Foreign Policy Blogs

Azerbaijan is undergoing a significant geopolitical realignment, moving away from Moscow’s traditional dominance and pursuing a more independent, multi-vector foreign policy. This strategic shift has been shaped by historical grievances, the post-war dynamics of the South Caucasus, and the weakening of Russia’s regional influence following the Ukraine war.   For years, Azerbaijan maintained a careful balance with Russia, recognizing Moscow’s power while safeguarding its own sovereignty. However, Russia’s decades-long alliance with Armenia, its reluctance to ensure the implementation of post-war agreements, and its failure to restrain Armenian provocations have eroded trust in Moscow’s role as a “neutral” mediator.   The 2020 Second Karabakh War highlighted a changing reality: Turkey’s military and diplomatic support, rather than Russian involvement, enabled Azerbaijan’s decisive victory. This demonstrated that Moscow was no longer the only power capable of shaping events in the South Caucasus.   Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022 weakened its global standing and diminished its ability to project power in the South Caucasus. Preoccupied with the conflict and isolated by Western sanctions, Moscow’s influence in the region has noticeably declined.   This created an opportunity for Azerbaijan to strengthen its role as a reliable energy partner for Europe. The Southern Gas Corridor, supplying gas to European markets, has made Baku a key player in Europe’s energy security strategy, further reducing its reliance on Moscow.   The proposed Zangezur Corridor, which would connect mainland Azerbaijan with its exclave Nachshivan through southern Armenia, is a strategic priority for Baku. This corridor would not only enhance regional trade and connectivity but also reduce Azerbaijan’s dependence on Russian-controlled routes.   Moscow’s lukewarm stance on this project and its attempts to maintain control over all transit links in the South Caucasus have created additional friction. Azerbaijan, supported by Turkey, seeks to establish the corridor as a sovereign project without Russian oversight.   Moreover, the corridor is viewed by Western and regional partners as a critical route that would integrate the South Caucasus with global trade networks, bypassing both Russia and Iran.   Azerbaijan’s partnership with Turkey has evolved into a robust strategic alliance. Military cooperation, defense industry collaborations, and joint regional initiatives underscore the “one nation, two states” principle.   At the same time, Baku has strengthened its relations with Israel, particularly in defense technology, intelligence sharing, and energy. The European Union and the United States have also deepened their engagement with Azerbaijan, viewing it as a vital partner in energy diversification and regional stability.   Azerbaijan’s growing influence is reshaping the South Caucasus power dynamics. While Russia remains a factor due to geography and trade, its weakened position has allowed Baku to pursue a more independent path. By leveraging its energy resources, modern military capabilities, and strong alliances, Azerbaijan is positioning itself as a leading regional power that is no longer bound by Moscow’s dictates.   Azerbaijan’s strategic pivot is not about severing ties with Moscow but about redefining its role in a multipolar world. The combination of energy diplomacy, the Zangezur Corridor initiative, and strong partnerships with Turkey, Israel, and the West reflects Baku’s determination to act as an autonomous and influential force in the South Caucasus.

A few short weeks into the Ceasefire with Iran, Iranian backed Houthis Kill Four, 15 kidnapped/missing after Houthis sink Greek ship in Red Sea.

After much talk and negotiations, the US has finally decided to go full steam ahead and resume its natural state of being as the tip of the spear for NATO in support of Ukraine. With much of the EU pushing for further kinetic involvement and border countries near Ukraine, notably Poland becoming the next major security superpower, the alignment of NATO comes after tough discussions between the Europeans and the United States on financial and supply obligations to the organisation. The new wartime commitment of 5% matches the reality of the current situation in Europe, a conflict that has erupted in other parts of the world despite the haughtiness of European denials on the reality of these situations. While not part of the common discussion in many NATO capitals, Europeans outside of Ukraine are being fired upon as European shipping fleets continue to be targeted and sunk abroad with limited response by the noble Western alliance. These actions during a supposed Ceasefire has resulted in deaths and likely more hostages, with an insufficient response by NATO against one of Russia’s allies. This trend of weak responses does nothing but encourage more conflict it seems, as Russia’s test of NATO’s fortitude continues to fuel more destruction.

In a sincere effort to end the war between Russia and Ukraine, new tariff measures aim to end Russia’s export of oil and gas to its main customers in many BRICS nations. Since the 2022 war began, there has been a concerted efforts to end the dependence on Russian oil and gas, while silently purchasing much of those same products by countries helping Ukraine to the tune of billions in military aid. The prohibition on the sale of North America energy to allies in Europe and Asia likely did more to fund Russia’s war machine than any attempted sanctions, as with high oil prices and the unwillingness to apply workable limits, the Russian military industrial complex would always be able to outproduce NATO with funding being constant. With these half measures, the war could always continue as long as there were men and metal available to put on the field, and Russia seems to be using many allies for these missions.

Effective sanctions on oil and gas must come with the displacement of these resources so other nations dependent on Russian energy have an alternative to conflict themselves. Acknowledging this reality was always a step never truly taken since 2022. A further acknowledgment of the greater war also prohibited and end to the conflict in Ukraine, as NATO sat on intelligence for years on drone production from Iran being sent to Russia. The scourge of these drones have become the essential terror weapon that are now murdering civilians at night in Ukraine. Now that drone facilities are operating in Russia, tank factories are on 24 hour shifts producing new armour and weapons, and former Soviet weapons storage facilities are being emptied out in record time providing refurbished equipment for the front, these targets should be met with the same vigour as the mission to end many of Russia’s strategic bomber fleet on the ground by Ukraine’s intelligence service.

A concerted effort should be taken against Russia’s military supply allies so that all sources of weapons can be limited along with tariffs and sanctions limiting funds towards Russia’s war production. Taking small steps to claim ceasefires only works when the ceasefire is committed to by both sides. In many situations, there is no rational side that can hold to any ceasefire agreement as it is usually just a tactic to delay a conflict until the West tires of the mission, leading to many deaths of innocents until that time comes. The war of delay is one that will always be lost as since the War in Vietnam, all adversaries of the United States have used this tactic with great effectiveness, now mixed with internal conflicts degrading the security situation in many of Europe’s and America’s great cities. Anarchy mixed with the normalisation of disproportionately undemocratic actions is the internal conflict that will likely weaken one side to such a great degree, that they will be unable to counter any conflict. To admit there is a war is the first step, to fight the war is what these new actions hope to achieve before it is no longer an option. Only time will literally tell of the eventual outcomes.

By Rachel Avraham

Donald Trump’s latest geopolitical positioning suggests a dramatic shift in U.S. attitudes toward the South Caucasus. In what critics call a “draining of the Washington swamp,” Trump appears ready to distance himself from the entrenched influence of Armenian lobbyists and place his bets on Azerbaijan—a nation that offers real strategic, economic, and security advantages to the United States.

For decades, the Armenian lobby in Washington, led by groups such as the Armenian National Committee of America (ANCA) and the Armenian Assembly of America, has been among the most vocal diaspora forces in U.S. politics. By leveraging historical grievances and emotional narratives, they lobby against military and energy cooperation with Azerbaijan.

However, the Trump camp sees this lobby as part of an outdated, unproductive political ecosystem. Trump’s strategy focuses on tangible gains: energy security, trade routes, and pragmatic alliances, rather than symbolic gestures. This shift has left Yerevan’s traditional lobbying tactics increasingly ineffective in shaping U.S. foreign policy.

Azerbaijan’s importance has grown significantly in the wake of global energy disruptions caused by the Ukraine war. As a key supplier of natural gas to Europe via the Southern Gas Corridor, Baku is now central to efforts aimed at reducing Europe’s dependence on Russian energy. For a dealmaker like Trump, Azerbaijan represents an opportunity to align U.S. economic and strategic goals with a rising regional power that delivers real results.

Moreover, Azerbaijan’s decisive victories in the 2020 and 2023 operations to restore its sovereignty over Karabakh have boosted its standing on the world stage. By contrast, Armenia has been increasingly seen as a struggling state, overly dependent on Russian protection and unable to adapt to the shifting geopolitical realities of the region.

Trump’s approach to international relations has always been guided by business logic and transactional partnerships. With Azerbaijan’s strategic location—bordering Russia, Iran, and the Caspian Sea—Trump views Baku not just as an ally but as a gateway for trade, energy, and influence in Eurasia. Political analysts suggest that a future Trump administration could dramatically expand U.S.-Azerbaijan cooperation, particularly in energy infrastructure, defense partnerships, and counter-terrorism efforts.

Armenia’s heavy reliance on the U.S. diaspora lobby has left it vulnerable to shifts in Washington’s priorities. As Russia’s grip on the South Caucasus weakens, Yerevan is scrambling to secure allies but has little to offer in terms of strategic value. Trump’s pivot to Azerbaijan highlights this reality: the U.S. is less interested in symbolic narratives and more focused on nations that can contribute to energy diversification and regional stability.

The Trump camp’s emphasis on Baku could redefine U.S. policy in the South Caucasus. By sidelining Armenia’s lobbyists, Washington could foster stronger cooperation with Azerbaijan, Turkey, and other regional players—ultimately reshaping the balance of power in a way that supports Western interests.

Trump’s shift from Yerevan to Baku is not just a diplomatic adjustment—it’s a signal that U.S. politics is moving toward pragmatic, results-oriented partnerships. As Armenian influence in Washington fades, Azerbaijan stands to gain from a renewed American focus on energy security, trade, and stability in the region. If Trump’s strategy continues, Baku could become a key U.S. partner, while Armenia risks sliding into political irrelevance.

A decentralized emirate system based on traditional governance structures could offer
Palestinians sustainable development and peaceful coexistence.

In recent days, the possibility of transforming governance in Judea and Samaria from the
failed Palestinian Authority model to a United Emirates system has been making headlines.
This model, based on traditional clan structures and local governance, represents a fundamental
shift from centralized authoritarian rule to decentralized, community-based administration that
prioritizes economic development and peaceful coexistence.

The emirates model offers what neither Hamas nor the PA can provide: legitimate local
governance rooted in traditional social structures, economic opportunity through industrial
zones and regional cooperation, and a pathway to joining the Abraham Accords framework.
Unlike the current system where over 80% of Palestinians view their government as corrupt
and disconnected from their needs, the emirates model builds on existing social trust within
communities.

Itamar Marcus, head of Palestinian Media Watch, emphasizes the systemic advantages: “There are communal leaders that care about their people. For years, there has been business going on between Jews living in Judea and Samaria and local Palestinians, with the blessing of the clan leaders for these people want the best for the Palestinians. If we are able to transition from the PA to the clan leaders, it will be for the people and for Israel as well.”

The economic dimension is crucial. As the Dor Moria Center research demonstrates,
sustainable peace requires addressing the root causes of conflict – particularly economic
exclusion and underdevelopment. With Human Development Index levels below 0.7 strongly
correlating with conflict, the emirates model’s focus on industrial zones, economic cooperation,
and integration into regional trade networks offers a concrete pathway above this critical
threshold.

The transition mechanism matters as much as the end goal. The current PA survives not
through legitimacy but through international funding – particularly from Europe. A phased
transition would involve redirecting this support from maintaining a failed centralized authority
to empowering local governance structures that can deliver actual services and economic
opportunities to their communities.

A Palestinian journalist, speaking on condition of anonymity, highlighted the systemic
failure: “Before 1988, we had dignity through economic integration. Today, 350,000
Palestinians who once worked in Israel are unemployed. The financial restrictions have
paralyzed our economy. People are so desperate they risk injury jumping the security barrier
just to find work. This isn’t about changing faces at the top – it’s about changing the entire
system.”

The emirates model addresses these structural problems through:
• Decentralized governance that maintains local accountability
• Economic integration through industrial zones and the Abraham Accords
• Traditional dispute resolution mechanisms that have legitimacy
• Direct service delivery without the corruption of centralized bureaucracy

Dr. Mordechai Kedar notes that the primary obstacle isn’t Palestinian opposition but
institutional inertia within certain Israeli administrative structures that have grown comfortable
with the dysfunctional status quo. The success of the emirates model requires Israeli support
for this systematic transformation – not just tolerating it, but actively facilitating the transition
from failed centralization to successful decentralization.

The window for this transformation is now. Each month that passes entrenches the failed
system deeper, while the population’s desperation grows. The United Emirates model offers
not just new leadership but a new system – one built on traditional legitimacy, economic
opportunity, and peaceful coexistence within the Abraham Accords framework.

Seo Sam-seok, National Assembly member for Sinan: a stark reminder that elected officials who assume public responsibility should bear public humiliation—not the powerless

In April 2025, the U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) issued a Withhold Release Order (WRO) barring imports of salt produced by Taepyung Salt Farm in Sinan, citing credible evidence of forced labor. This marked the first WRO imposed on a South Korean product, following a 2022 petition by advocacy groups. The CBP identified nine indicators of forced labor, as defined by the International Labour Organization (ILO), including the exploitation of vulnerable workers, movement restrictions, confiscation of identification documents, debt bondage, unpaid wages, and physical abuse. The WRO effectively halts imports unless the company can conclusively demonstrate that its supply chain is free from forced labor. This move represents a significant escalation in U.S. efforts to hold South Korea accountable on labor rights, reigniting scrutiny of a case long emblematic of systemic failures.

The Sinan salt farm slavery scandal first drew international attention in 2014, when media and police investigations exposed widespread abuse, particularly of people with disabilities. Since then, the U.S. Department of State’s annual Trafficking in Persons (TIP) Report has consistently cited labor exploitation concerns in South Korea, frequently referencing Sinan as a representative case. In 2021, a fresh incident of forced labor and wage theft triggered on-site investigations by the U.S. State Department and the U.S. Embassy in Seoul, which relayed detailed findings to Washington. Although South Korea has maintained its Tier 1 ranking in the TIP Report, the U.S. has repeatedly urged stronger enforcement, framing Sinan as a litmus test for Seoul’s commitment to international human rights norms. Even after the high-profile 2014 investigation, further cases emerged. In 2021 and 2022, new abuses were exposed, with reports that local police at times ignored victims’ pleas or returned escapees to their exploiters. Notably, in 2019, South Korea’s Supreme Court ruled that the government and police bore responsibility for failing to prevent such abuses, underscoring the systemic nature of the problem.

The Sinan case illustrates how entrenched local power structures and economic dependencies perpetuate exploitation. In isolated regions like Sinan, local elites—including landowners, law enforcement, and religious figures—often maintain overlapping interests, blurring the boundaries between governance and personal gain. Victims were not hidden; their suffering was an open secret sustained by collective silence and complicity. This points to a broader systemic problem: a feudal mindset that allows abuses to persist under the pretext of “community cohesion” and loyalty to entrenched power brokers. Such corruption not only obstructs justice but also undermines public trust in national protections.

No evidence to date implicates leaders of specific religious organizations or denominations directly in the Sinan forced labor case. However, media reports and NGO investigations have documented instances where salt farm owners leveraged their status as church elders or maintained close ties with local pastors to bolster their social standing. This influence sometimes discouraged whistleblowing or helped maintain a code of silence within the community. While isolated cases have seen individual pastors or church officials investigated for alleged complicity or negligence, there is no indication of formal involvement by religious institutions. The dominant pattern remains one of collusion among salt farm owners, politicians, and police, rather than coordinated action by religious groups.

Democratic Party politicians—many of whom represent constituencies in Jeollanam-do—have faced criticism for their muted response. Analysts point to a combination of regionalist loyalty, fear of alienating influential local actors, and a political culture averse to intra-regional critique as reasons for the inertia. Despite promoting human rights and labor reforms on the national stage, these politicians have often downplayed or sidestepped the Sinan scandal, wary of unsettling their rural support base.

The persistence of forced labor on Sinan’s salt farms galvanized artists and documentarians, who sought to confront public apathy. The UK-based Channel 4 documentary series Unreported World, produced by one of Britain’s leading public service broadcasters, aired a detailed episode in 2018 that investigated the Sinan salt farm forced labor case through firsthand testimonies and on-the-ground reporting. The program exposed how disabled and vulnerable individuals were lured under false pretenses, forced to work without pay, and subjected to violence and threats, all enabled by systemic failures in welfare protections and local complicity.

Although government crackdowns and rescues followed these media exposés, a 2023 investigation by Jeollanam-do authorities confirmed that exploitative labor practices persisted. Most perpetrators received only lenient sentences, such as probation, and many local elites avoided prosecution entirely. As a result, survivors continue to face daunting challenges in rehabilitation and reintegration.

The Sinan salt farm forced labor scandal is not a closed chapter of history; it remains an ongoing human rights challenge demanding vigilance, comprehensive reform, and above all, sustained commitment from all levels of governance and civil society. But such commitment must not be distorted or diluted by shifting narratives. A case in point is recent coverage by Maeil Business Newspaper, which highlights a media framing pattern that deserves scrutiny. While quoting workers, employers, and officials, the reporting tends to emphasize incremental improvements while downplaying systemic issues. The narrative often pivots to external trade concerns—such as U.S. misunderstandings or diplomatic repercussions—rather than keeping human rights violations at the center. Heavy reliance on government data without deeper investigation, and sympathetic space for employer grievances, may reflect subtle media bias aligning with official narratives. This framing risks diluting accountability and diverting focus from the structural reforms still urgently needed.

Gradual institutional socialization and internalization of the US-led deterrence identity—fostered by the ‘peace through strength’ doctrine—brings greater unity and satisfaction to the free world, symbolized by Trump’s successful breadwinning at the NATO table.

In the cacophonous return of great power competition, where authoritarian states test the margins of the liberal international order, a curious pattern has emerged: allies of the United States are not peeling away under pressure, but rather pulling closer. At the center of this gravitational force is not merely the United States itself, but a particular brand of American leadership—unapologetically transactional, muscular in posture, and deeply committed to the premise that peace is most credibly kept through strength. U.S. President Donald J. Trump’s foreign policy approach, long derided in elite diplomatic circles as reckless or unsophisticated, may be enjoying a quiet vindication. More than a foreign policy instinct, “peace through strength” is emerging as a functional mechanism of alliance synchronization and deterrence—one that modern international theory is now beginning to better explain.

The evidence is no longer anecdotal. The recent NATO summit in 2025 delivered one of the most historic shifts in alliance behavior in decades: European and Canadian allies committed to raising defense spending to 5% of GDP, a staggering leap beyond the long-disputed 2% threshold. More notably, this was not an isolated gesture of appeasement but part of a broader cascade of synchronization. Allies also agreed to tighter planning protocols and robust compliance mechanisms, echoing the kind of coordinated institutional behavior more commonly associated with wartime unity than peacetime policy.

While critics of Trump-era strategy warned that his bluster would alienate partners and destabilize norms, the opposite may now be unfolding: under the stress of external threat and internal hesitation, allies appear not only to follow Washington’s lead but to internalize it. What once looked like grudging compliance is morphing into institutional socialization. Supporting American leadership is not just a matter of obligation—it is becoming an expression of identity.

From Coercion to Internalization

Much ink has been spilled on hegemonic stability theory—the idea that a single dominant power underwrites international order through the demonstration of force and economic leadership. Trump’s doctrine fits snugly here, particularly with regard to his use of military signaling to reinforce deterrence. Case in point: the targeted U.S. operations against Iranian nuclear sites, conducted with surgical precision, significantly delayed Iran’s enrichment capabilities and delivered a costly signal not just to Tehran but to the broader international community. The message was clear: U.S. resolve was real, and its capabilities unmatched.

Yet to stop there would miss the deeper story. Unlike traditional coercive frameworks, the Trump-led realignment reveals patterns consistent with institutional socialization. As current international relations theory suggests, allies that routinely engage with a capable and consistent hegemon begin to internalize that hegemon’s norms—not just because they fear reprisal, but because they gradually come to see alignment as beneficial, legitimate, and even identity-defining.

Several conditions amplify this process. First, Trump-era diplomacy, for all its rhetorical volatility, has offered clarity of norms. There was no ambiguity about expectations: contribute more to collective defense, or face a reckoning. Second, by presenting NATO as both a burden and a benefit, the Trump administration forced allies to grapple directly with questions of institutional utility. Third, the repeated engagement—both in summits and behind-the-scenes military coordination—built the kind of social interaction that fosters shared identity.

The shift was subtle but real. Allies who once rolled their eyes at Trump’s demands are now aligning policy with Washington not out of compulsion, but conviction. And unlike more delicate forms of diplomacy that rely on endless consensus-building, the Trump doctrine seemed to understand a basic psychological principle of alliance politics: clarity and resolve, however brash, are often more persuasive than soft ambiguity.

A Networked Logic of Resilience

Beyond socialization, another theoretical frame further illuminates the Trump-era alliance realignment: resilience through interdependence. This model rejects the zero-sum lens of alliance politics and instead views security as a networked, shared good—dependent on the collective strength of interconnected actors.

In this context, Trump’s policies operated as a catalyzing force. By making credible demonstrations of U.S. capability, the administration reminded allies of their own reliance on the integrity of the transatlantic system. The 5% GDP commitment is not merely a concession to American pressure; it reflects a recognition that prosperity and stability are deeply intertwined with a robust and assertive alliance structure.

Moreover, interdependence is not merely functional—it becomes emotional. Solidarity emerges from crisis management and shared sacrifice. In this way, Trump’s pressure campaign—while confrontational—sparked an internal reckoning among allies. Do they wish to be passive observers in a system increasingly shaped by revisionist powers? Or will they reaffirm their place in what one might call the “House of the Free World”?

They chose the latter. This is not just compliance. It is contribution.

Theoretical Convergence and Practical Outcomes

When we map Trump’s approach onto the modern theoretical landscape, we see a surprising convergence. Hegemonic stability theory explains how his bold use of power coerced alignment. Signaling theory validates the credibility of actions like the Iran strikes. But it is institutional socialization and interdependence theory that give the most profound insights: they explain why the alliance is cohering more tightly now than at any time since the Cold War’s zenith.

To be sure, this realignment is not without risk. Overreliance on coercive tools can breed resentment, especially if leadership appears inconsistent or narcissistic. A purely transactional view of alliances can erode the kind of trust and shared identity that underwrite long-term solidarity. But Trump’s surprising strength was that, through the smoke and fire of confrontation, he clarified the stakes of membership in the liberal order. He didn’t merely ask, “What have you done for us lately?”—he forced allies to ask, “What happens if we don’t stand together?”

The answer, increasingly, is that fragmentation leads to vulnerability. In an age of networked threats—cyberwarfare, gray zone tactics, economic coercion—the collective is only as resilient as its weakest node. The Trump administration understood this, even if only instinctively, and the resulting behavior among allies suggests that a deeper transformation is underway.

An Anchor in a Shifting Sea

The world’s geopolitical landscape in 2025 is choppier than ever. China’s ambitions in the Indo-Pacific, Russia’s continued provocations on NATO’s eastern flank, and Iran’s regional adventurism all paint a picture of sustained instability. And yet, amid this turbulence, there is one surprising constant: the House of the Free World is not splintering. It is consolidating.

This is not a nostalgic return to postwar liberalism, but a more hard-edged, updated form of Western unity—less about Wilsonian idealism and more about a shared recognition of threat and mutual benefit. Trump, for all his breaches of etiquette, reminded the alliance that it is a house worth defending. More than that, he showed that defense requires clarity, commitment, and consequence.

Of course, the success of this model is not guaranteed. It depends on continued U.S. credibility, the institutional health of NATO and its adjunct bodies, and a commitment to the kind of routine engagement that sustains identity and interdependence. It also requires a leadership style that, while perhaps confrontational, is not capricious. Trump’s strength was his resolve; any future leader seeking to emulate his success must preserve that credibility without descending into chaos.

Conclusion: A New Strategic Normal

Peace through strength may once have sounded like an anachronism of Cold War thinking. But today, in an age of hybrid warfare and global fragmentation, it may be the only language that hostile actors and hesitant allies alike understand. Trump’s ability to extract historic concessions from NATO allies—and more importantly, to catalyze a shared sense of strategic identity—is not an aberration. It may be the blueprint for what comes next.

In this blueprint, power is not the opposite of persuasion—it is its precondition. Strength is not the negation of diplomacy—it is its amplifier. And leadership is not merely a seat at the table—it is the resolve to set the terms. If Trump has taught the free world anything, it is that the architecture of freedom is not self-sustaining. It must be funded, defended, and yes, demanded.

As the new strategic normal unfolds, the United States remains the anchor. And with Trump’s model—however polarizing—as the template, the House of the Free World appears ready, willing, and increasingly able to follow.

 

 

The concept of generic fascism helps understanding Russia’s war against Ukraine

 

Andreas Umland

 

The use of the term “fascism” in connection with the modern Russian state and its actions has at least three dimensions. First, it is a historical analogy used to guide public interpretation of current events in light of well-known developments in the recent past. Second, it is a Ukrainian code expressing the lived experience of millions of Ukrainians today. Third, “fascism” is an academic umbrella term that serves scientific classification, enables comparisons across time and space, and highlights differences and similarities between historical fascism, on the one hand, and Putinism, today on the other.

 

Fascism as a historical analogy

Most public references to Putin’s regime as fascist serve as a diachronic analogy or metaphorical classification to better understand recent developments in Russia and its occupied territories. Such historical comparisons and verbal visualizations of current phenomena with events and images from the past help to identify key characteristics and challenges of today’s Russia. The attribution of “fascism” to Putin’s regime serves to illustrate to the general public what is happening in Russia and the Russian-occupied Ukrainian territories.

This comparison is justified insofar as there are numerous parallels between the political rhetoric and actions of Putin’s Russia, on the one hand, and Mussolini’s Italy and Hitler’s Germany, on the other. By mid-2025, many political, social, ideological, and institutional similarities will have accumulated. These range from increasingly dictatorial and partly totalitarian features of the Russian regime to revanchist and increasingly genocidal features in the Kremlin’s external behavior. Against this backdrop, the use of the term fascism serves to guide debates in mass media, civil society, and educational institutions.

 

Fascism as lived experience

The use of the term “fascism” to describe Putin’s regime by outside commentators aims to give audiences outside Russia and Ukraine an impression of current Russian domestic and foreign affairs. In contrast, the Ukrainian use of the term “fascism” and the neologism “rashism” – a combination of “Russia” and “fascism” – is primarily an expressive act. In Ukraine, describing Russia as fascist has, since 2014, articulated the collective shock, deep grief, and ongoing despair at the Kremlin’s morbid cynicism toward ordinary Ukrainians—especially in the last three and a half years of war.

“Fascism” or “rashism” also serves as a battle cry for the Ukrainian government and society to mobilize domestic and foreign support for resistance against Russian aggression. These terms are intended to draw the outside world’s attention to the serious consequences of Russia’s war of expansion and destruction for Ukraine. The adjectives “fascist” and “rashist” indicate that Russia’s military expansion is not just about conquering Ukrainian territory. Russia’s revanchist adventure, especially since 2022, aims to destroy Ukraine as an independent nation-state and a cultural community separate from Russia.

The words and deeds of the Russian government are largely consistent in this regard. Statements by Russian government officials, parliamentarians, and propagandists, especially since February 24, 2022, indicate that Russia’s intentions toward Ukraine go beyond merely redrawing state borders, restoring regional hegemony, and preventing the Westernization of Eastern Europe. Moscow has already since 2014 been ruthlessly suppressing Ukrainian identity, culture, and national sentiment in Crimea and the Donbas.

It would be going too far to equate Russian Ukrainophobia with the biological and eliminatory anti-Semitism of the Nazis. With its irredentist war, Moscow “only” wants to destroy the Ukrainians as a self-confident nation and integrated civil society. The Kremlin does not aim to physically eliminate all Ukrainians, as the Nazis attempted to do with the Jews. Nevertheless, the Russian agenda goes beyond “mere” expulsion, harassment, deportation, re-education, and brainwashing of Ukraine’s inhabitants. It also includes the expropriation, terrorization, imprisonment, torture, and murder of those Ukrainians (as well as some Russians) who oppose Russia’s military expansion, political terror, and cultural dominance in Ukraine in word and/or deed. It is therefore hardly surprising that many Ukrainians, as well as some Russian observers, spontaneously describe Russia’s genocidal behavior as “fascist.”

 

Fascism as a scholarly concept

A growing number of prominent experts on Central and Eastern Europe today describe Putin’s Russia as fascist. In contrast, many contemporary historians and political scientists who work with comparative methods have so far avoided using the term fascism to categorize Putinism. This has to do with the narrow definitions of generic fascism used by many of these academics. According to these definitions, the key feature that distinguishes fascists from other right-wing extremists is their goal of political, social, cultural, and anthropological rebirth.

Fascists often refer to a supposed Golden Age in their nation’s distant past and use ideas and symbols from this mythologized prehistory. However, they do not want to preserve or restore a past era, but rather to create a new kind of national community. Fascists are right-wing extremists, but they are more revolutionary than ultra-conservative or reactionary. Today, many comparativists would be cautious about applying the term fascism to Putinism, as Putin seeks to restore the Russian Empire rather than create an entirely new Russian state and people.

Admittedly, Putin’s transformation of Russian domestic and foreign policy over the past 25 years has had a clear direction. It has meant a continued increase in rhetorical aggression, internal repression, external escalation, and general radicalization, which now culminates in monthly Russian threats of world war. For most comparative historians, nevertheless, these and similar changes in the last quarter-century of Russian history would still be insufficient to classify Putinism as fascism.

 

Ukraine as Russia’s interior

On the other hand, Russia’s policy in the occupied Ukrainian territories could be classified as quasi-fascist in a more direct sense. The ruthless Russification campaign that the Russian state is carrying out in the annexed parts of Ukraine through targeted terror, forced re-education, and material incentives aims to achieve a profound sociocultural transformation of these areas. Admittedly, such irredentist, colonizing, and homogenizing policies are not seen as necessarily fascist in comparative imperialism studies. However, the instruments used by the Kremlin to implement its Ukraine policy and the desired outcomes are in some respects similar to those of the fascist revolutions attempted by Mussolini’s Italy and Hitler’s Germany.

Moscow wants to fundamentally reshape the conquered Ukrainian municipalities and turn them into cells of a culturally and ideologically standardized Russian people (russkii narod). Russian imperial ultra-nationalists regard most parts of Ukraine as originally Russian territory and refer to them as “New Russia” and “Little Russia” (Novorossiya, Malaya Rossiya). Ukrainians – insofar as the term is accepted at all – are thus merely a sub-ethnic group of the greater pan-Russian people, whose Ukrainian language is merely a Russian dialect and who have regional folklore rather than a national culture.

According to the Russian irredentist narrative, the western Russian border dwellers were misled by anti-Russian forces in order to form an artificial nation, “the Ukrainians.” Foreign actors such as the Catholic Church, imperial Germany, the Bolsheviks, and/or the West today have divided the larger pan-Russian people. They have alienated the “Great Russians” (velikorossy) of the Russian Federation from the “Little Russians” (malorossy) of Ukraine.

Moscow’s occupation policy in Ukraine, aimed at reversing this supposedly artificial division of Russian civilization allegedly caused by foreign powers, could be understood as an attempt to give new birth to “Little Russia.” The Kremlin’s goal is to bring about a local political, social, cultural, and anthropological revolution in the Ukrainian territories annexed by Russia. The Russification policy in Ukraine is thus sufficiently similar to classic fascist domestic and occupation policies, so that Moscow’s transformative goals and actions with regard to Russia’s Ukrainian “brothers” could be classified as, at least, quasi-fascist.

 

Dr. Andreas Umland is an analyst at the Stockholm Center for Eastern European Studies (SCEEUS) in the Swedish Institute of International Affairs (UI).

 

This article is the summary of larger chapter forthcoming in: Ian Garner and Taras Kuzio, eds., Russia and Modern Fascism: New Perspectives on the Kremlin’s War Against Ukraine. Stuttgart: ibidem-Verlag, 2025.

June 20, 2004—South Korean national Kim Sun Il was brutally beheaded by an al-Qaeda-linked extremist group, a tragedy that underscores how the spread of Islamic extremism—fueled in part by Iran’s 1979 revolution and, as Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman has acknowledged, the export of radical ideology—continues to claim the lives of innocent civilians simply because of their countries’ alliances.

On June 22, 2025, in a moment of blistering clarity, the Iranian regime stripped away the last fig leaf of plausible deniability. In a declaration broadcast on state television, Tehran vowed that “every American citizen or military personnel in the region is now a target.” This was not a coded message, nor a vague allusion—it was a direct threat against innocent civilians, a calculated act of rhetorical terrorism from a regime unraveling in the wake of its own miscalculations.

The context is clear: mere hours before this pronouncement, US-led strikes had decisively disabled critical components of Iran’s nuclear infrastructure. It was a blow aimed at halting Tehran’s march toward nuclear armament—one that, in the absence of good-faith diplomacy from Iran, had become necessary. But instead of addressing its own provocations, the regime lashed out with characteristic fury, scapegoating Americans—military and civilian alike—as acceptable collateral in its campaign of revenge and propaganda.

Let’s not mistake this for a novel turn. Iran’s leaders are not new to the politics of terror. Since the Islamic Revolution of 1979, they have deployed violence not just as a defensive tool, but as a primary mechanism of statecraft. Whether through the brazen hostage crisis of 1979, the devastating Beirut bombings of 1983, or the countless proxy attacks on US troops across Iraq and Syria in the decades since, the Islamic Republic has honed a consistent strategy: when diplomacy falters or its ambitions are thwarted, it targets the innocent.

This is not the tactical desperation of a beleaguered nation. It is the doctrine of a regime that views terrorism not as a shameful aberration but as a legitimate expression of power. And with this latest threat—an open call to murder civilians—it has once again reminded the world of its moral bankruptcy.

The regime’s calculus is cynical but revealing. It cannot defeat the United States militarily. Its conventional forces are outmatched, its economy is strained, and its legitimacy is eroded both domestically and abroad. So it falls back on its tried-and-true method: asymmetrical terror. It empowers proxies, radicalizes militias, and weaponizes fear—hoping that the West, weary of endless conflict, will trade justice for quiet, and leave tyrants to rule without consequence.

What Tehran perhaps failed to calculate is how utterly this declaration confirms everything its critics have said for decades. For years, some insisted that Iran’s aggression was reactive, that its support for groups like Hezbollah and Hamas was strategic rather than ideological, that it could be coaxed into moderation through economic engagement. But threats to murder civilians—for the crime of holding a blue passport—leave no room for such illusions. This is not realism. This is raw, unreconstructed terrorism.

And yet, this moment must not be wasted on outrage alone. The United States and its allies must recognize that this is more than a rhetorical shift; it is a declaration of intent. Every American in the Middle East is now living under a threat sanctioned by a sovereign government. That is an extraordinary—and extraordinarily dangerous—development.

It also places an urgent burden on the international community. The rules-based order cannot survive if state actors are allowed to incite violence against civilians without consequence. The targeting of innocents must remain a red line—not just in theory, but in enforcement. If the regime in Tehran is allowed to get away with this, it will not be the last to abandon international norms in favor of the politics of fear.

Ultimately, the Iranian regime has revealed what it truly is: not a misunderstood player seeking regional autonomy, but a paranoid, theocratic oligarchy whose first instinct in crisis is to threaten murder. That instinct—nurtured over decades, bolstered by proxy wars, and now made explicit on national television—should end any remaining debate about its nature.

The world has been warned. Now it must respond

By Rachel Avraham

It might not have caught the attention of Westerners, but people in the Global South noticed it long ago: Europeans exhibit a double standard when it comes to violations of sovereignty and civilian lives. What does that mean? In Europe, it’s customary to support a particular side in a military conflict based on the defense of a specific value. For example, a country whose territory has been invaded by soldiers from another nation can be supported in the name of defending territorial integrity, the right to sovereignty, or the right to life, and so on.

However, every now and then, we notice a phenomenon where European countries choose to support nations that don’t represent the very values they championed when it came to other countries. This exposes the hypocritical and sycophantic self-interest of the “enlightened” Western nations. This double standard is one of the reasons many countries in Eurasia and Africa are not taking sides in the Russia-Ukraine war. While many European countries engage in this demeaning and hypocritical behavior, one country acts this way most overtly: France.

When the Russia-Ukraine war broke out, France gave its absolute and unequivocal support to Ukraine, claiming that Russia had invaded its legal territorial boundaries and that Ukraine had the right to defend its independence and sovereignty over its lawful territories. The truth? There’s some truth to what the French say. However, what’s infuriating about this story is that France is playing favorites when it comes to supporting countries that need to defend their territories and sovereignty from external attacks by other nations. The most striking example of this is France’s support for Armenia in its military conflict with Azerbaijan. Why, in the Caucasus war, does France support the aggressor who initiated the illegal occupation of territory legally belonging to another country, rather than the one defending its sovereign territories?

Let’s take a step back. After the dissolution of the Soviet Union, two countries disagreed with the territorial division for each nation that separated from the Soviet Union: Russia and Armenia. According to the division, each Soviet Republic that became an independent state received its territorial area as a country based on its territory as a Soviet Republic. This fundamental division was agreed upon in the Alma-Ata Declaration on December 21, 1991. From Russia’s perspective, its leaders have always viewed the post-Soviet Eurasian countries as semi-independent states, allowing them (the Russian leadership) to act in these countries as they please. As for Armenia, it decided not to be content with its original territory and forcibly conquered the Azerbaijani region of Karabakh. Thus, Armenian nationalists managed to create “Greater Armenia” from the territory they seized from Azerbaijan in the “First Karabakh War,” a territory that constituted a fifth of Azerbaijan’s landmass.

According to the French moral compass, as demonstrated by France’s support for Ukraine in its war against Russia, we would infer that France would also support Azerbaijan, whose territory was shamefully occupied. But no. Not only does France not support Azerbaijan but Armenia, it also tried for years to prevent Azerbaijan from reclaiming its occupied territory and intensified its opposition to Azerbaijan after the “Second Karabakh War” in 2020, in which Azerbaijan regained its occupied land.

As mentioned, it seems France wasn’t content with just standard diplomatic support for Armenia but engaged in direct external intervention in an issue not directly related to it (and frankly, not even indirectly so much). France is a member of the OSCE Minsk Group (Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe). This organization was established in 1992 to resolve the conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan, with France being one of the three co-chairs of the group, along with the United States and Russia. It’s important to note that each of these three countries has a large and politically powerful Armenian lobby. The OSCE Minsk Group largely failed in all its endeavors for three decades, not only in the Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict but also in conflicts created by Russia in Moldova, Georgia, and Ukraine in 2014-2021. Furthermore, the group failed to negotiate a peace agreement between Armenia and Azerbaijan based on the Alma-Ata Declaration, which would have forced the Armenians to withdraw militarily from Karabakh. Beyond that, the group achieved no breakthrough in resolving the conflict.

Over time, questions arose about France’s participation in the group and its role as a co-chair. Firstly, as mentioned, France has the third-largest Armenian diaspora in the world (after Russia and the United States), which constitutes a strong political force. You tell me, what French politician would want to disappoint such a large number of potential voters over some conflict that doesn’t concern their private life in any way? I imagine none.

Secondly, in recent years, France has been grappling with large-scale Muslim immigration, which is not sitting quietly and is shaking the streets of France and French politics. Today, many French people understand that opening their country’s doors to anyone seeking assistance from the Middle East was not the best decision made in Paris, leading to a significant political shift across France towards the far-right. Based on the anti-Muslim sentiment that has become so prevalent in France, the decision to support Christian Armenia over Muslim Azerbaijan is the only decision supported across the entire French political spectrum. Politicians like Le Pen use crusade-like terminology to defend the Christian Armenian population from the Muslim Azerbaijanis, even though Azerbaijan is a completely secular country, and its conflict with Armenia has nothing to do with religion or any particular civilization, but rather with international law. And frankly, it’s ludicrous to portray Azerbaijan as an evil Muslim country, given that one of its greatest allies is the Jewish state of Israel. Thirdly, France also supported (Christian) Greece against its conflict with (Muslim) Turkey, so it’s not surprising that France would not support Turkey’s close and significant ally—Azerbaijan.

In November 2020, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Both French parliaments unanimously voted for French recognition of the independence of the separatist enclave of Artsakh (the Armenian name for Karabakh), mirroring the positions of Russia and Armenia. Subsequently, a frustrated Azerbaijan called for the closure of the OSCE Minsk Group.

The conflict between France and Azerbaijan is not just a conflict between two countries but a mirror image of a larger conflict between the West and the Global South, ignited by double standards and justice. Western countries will not gain the support of the Global South, even on substantive issues like the Russia-Ukraine war, as long as justice is not served and Western countries stop supporting other occupiers who act against international law, similar to the case of the Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict. We must not normalize double standards regarding separatism, the sanctity of states’ territorial integrity, and colonialism. Countries like France must not continue to behave in such a despicable manner, dictating the “right” and “wrong” sides of conflicts between different countries based on their political interests. Only in a political world like the one countries such as France are trying to bring us into, does it make sense to support Ukraine but vehemently oppose Azerbaijan.

A German Gepard in unique camo colours, popular in both games and in drone defense in Ukraine.

 

The era surrounding 2014 was one where life in some parts of the world could not have been more different than life in the West. Around 2014, when the Syrian Wars became very hot and violent, most people were sitting in their homes, playing games like Call of Duty with actual combat being the farthest thing from their mind. While the following years gave way to some youth in the West becoming ISIS fighters, the average family hardly felt this effect or were plagued by their children going abroad to brutalise people in Iraq and Syria.

Despite that era being one where some of the oldest communities in the Middle East were almost completely wiped out, things in Europe and North America changed very little. Even when returned ISIS fighters came back to the West, little was done in many cases to charge them, seek justice for their victims, or even take actions to protect communities in Western countries from future attacks. Even today, there is little mention of it or measures to compensate victims of acts done by Western citizens in Iraq and Syria, despite the world being a much more divisive place in 2025.

Post-Covid seemed to change the norm in many of these formerly peaceful communities. They still played games and watched similar media, still ignored many of the horrors abroad, and did little to think they would be in a dire situation themselves. The 2022 War in Ukraine took young video game players, ones with online friends in your town who played the same games and had similar lives to their team members in the West, and put many of them in the front of actual combat.

Some successes of these formerly peaceful game players and average kids were mentioned on the battlefield. In a well known incident, caught mostly on video, two Ukrainian operated American Bradley armoured personnel vehicles were able to disable one Russian T-90M tank, the most modern Russian tank on the battlefield. The tactics and knowledge they used against the ultra modern T-90M was claimed by one of the Bradley crews to be the result of playing the game War Thunder, a simplified war vehicle simulator. To improvise during the tense situation, the Bradley did something he often did in game when he targeted the sensors of an enemy tank. With the experience he had fighting against other real players online, he took to damaging the equipment of the enemy tank so he could stop the enemy from firing on the two Bradleys. While the game is not exactly designed to be a proper simulator for the Bradley or the T-90M, it enabled the driver to have a tactical mind and improvise an idea learned from their earlier days playing one of their favourite games. To note, the T-90M did not make it, and it is not clear if the Russian crew survived.

A simplified simulation of many of the systems used in Ukraine and in other parts of the world may train this generation in quick responses in actual combat. Many weapons designs are often based on control mechanisms for an XBox or Playstation, and playing something like the game mentioned above may introduce soldiers in how to manage the targeting system of a Gepard or ZSU-23-4 radar in shooting down drones attacking cities in Ukraine. It is likely the case that drone systems have already benefitted from controls and imaging seen in many modern games, drones which have changed the face of battle since 2022.

The unfortunate reality of combat in Ukraine and other parts of the world is that such technological advancements also make it very difficult to survive a war. There are estimates of thousands of young men losing their lives weekly in Ukraine, and the total number of deaths of soldiers in the war is approaching levels of losses not seen since the Second World War. Quick and rapid defeats have been recently seen in the air conflict between Pakistan and India, where many pilots likely lost their lives in the first few hours of combat with little chance to survive modern weapons technology. An advanced and well planned attack may remove the defense of military targets without a means of response, weighting one military’s strength to such a great degree that it would mirror the strategic victory at Pearl Harbor. The reality of modern warfare is that most will not survive, and for many of those on the battlefield who are more alike than different, it would be best if they were challenging each other online instead of using those skills to massacre each other on the battlefield.

Leftist pundits should remember: God answered Abraham’s own sacrifice. The sin of sacrificing another’s child is eternal—and paid in hell. (Image generated by ChatGPT-4o-)

Whether it’s the weight shouldered by members of the vulnerable population—Emma Sulkowicz’s mattress, George Floyd’s last breath, Breonna Taylor’s bedroom, or Alan Kurdi’s shoreline—each was made into a symbol not by their own will, but by the myth-making impulses of leftist punditry and media machinery eager to construct heroes out of hurt. Their pain was aestheticized, their names invoked, their images distributed. But in many cases, they and their families suffer—not only from the original violence, but from the relentless symbolic labor they are forced to perform. Some are harassed, surveilled, erased. Others are iconized so completely that they are never seen again as people. Their public meaning grows while their private agency collapses. They become scaffolding for a morality play in which they never auditioned. Their liberation is recited, never lived.

This transformation from person to parable is not incidental—it is embedded in the moral economy of contemporary wokeism. Liberation is not a shared project but a transaction, sealed through sacrifice. Political legitimacy is won not by organizing for freedom, but by offering up a body to be injured, a voice to be silenced, or a subject to be mythologized. These figures are not truly seen. They are deified, consumed, and converted into liberal cautionary tales—fetishized icons whose pain is preserved but whose personhood is discarded.

This is the tragedy of postmodern identity: real lives become metaphorical instruments. The dead speak only through curated remembrance, and the living suffer as placeholders for unredeemed history. Heidegger might call this the reduction of being to utility: the human as object, politically visible only when useful to others’ narratives. In this way, ontological erasure becomes functional visibility—a form of legibility that only emerges through subjugation, when pain becomes performance. This seamlessly echoes Michel Foucault’s notion of biopolitics, where power does not merely repress but regulates the conditions under which life is allowed to be seen, counted, and managed. In a world where not all lives are equally protected, the bourgeoisie monopolize not only the payoffs from the moral economy of contemporary wokeism, but the full expression of life—safety, rest, and the dignity of emotional bandwidth. Others are permitted only visibility through trauma, and even that is selectively allocated.

Even that visibility, however, often comes posthumously. The sacrificed individual is remembered, not lived. Their death becomes an ethical signal; their life is a discarded draft. The real horror lies in this economy of symbolic compensation, where systemic injustice is aestheticized, not remedied. Tragedy becomes theater, and mourning becomes moral capital. In many cases, the market absorbs these symbolic deaths with stunning efficiency. Grief becomes brandable, pain becomes a hashtag, and corporations don the colors of solidarity while continuing to exploit those very lives behind the scenes. The commodification of trauma thus becomes the final act in the ritual: mourning not as a reckoning, but as marketing.

Hannah Arendt saw the mechanics of evil, not its texture. Her account of the “banality of evil” captured bureaucratic amorality, but did not dwell in the suffering it produced. Her reflection is Lacanian: a cold mirror without skin. It renders evil comprehensible, but not felt. In effect, Arendt displaced the burden of suffering—transferring it from analytical engagement to symbolic abstraction, a form of ethical outsourcing that left the pain of victims intellectually acknowledged but existentially untouched. She succeeded in anatomizing the structures of evil, but left unexplored how suffering is lived, fragmented, and erased within those very structures. Arendt gave us the ethics of the thinking subject, but not of the suffering one. Perhaps for Arendt, that suffering was not just analytically elusive—it was something unspeakable, something she refused to represent precisely because its intimacy defied conceptual containment. In this absence, suffering becomes an epistemic object, not an ethical imperative. Diagnosis arrives without embodiment; politics speaks without contact. Her refusal to descend into the phenomenology of pain was not philosophical neutrality—it was an ethical omission. To map evil without feeling its tremor is to risk normalizing it anew, in cleaner language.

Thus, suffering is neutralized into mythology. The wounded are sainted but silenced. Pain becomes proof of virtue—an untouchable credential that resists criticism and political transformation. The sacred victim cannot be questioned, only mourned or idealized. And here lies the ethical stagnation: trauma becomes a closed loop, an immutable symbol, rather than an impetus for structural change. When political identity is secured by suffering, liberation becomes a performance endlessly rehearsed but never concluded.

If pain merely confers symbolic status, then the living are doomed to repeat the dead’s script. The suffering subject’s current life becomes unlivable. Their future is overwritten by a demand to represent trauma, indefinitely. Woke politics, in this form, enshrines suffering without transforming it. It is a politics of infinite repetition, not release. And it leaves no room for agency beyond grief.

Contrast this with the figure of the Bodhisattva: in Mahayana Buddhist philosophy, the Bodhisattva is one who, despite being capable of entering nirvana, voluntarily delays personal liberation to remain in the world and accompany others in their suffering. They sense suffering and remain with it, not to define others by it, but to transmute it. The Bodhisattva does not use pain to confer meaning. They use presence to restore it. Their compassion is not forensic, but existential—a form of dwelling. The Bodhisattva is not merely compassionate; they are co-present. Their ethics emerge not from abstraction, but from dwelling beside. Where liberal politics universalizes suffering into policy, the Bodhisattva particularizes it into presence.

But presence is not enough without structure. In political terms, presence must be accompanied by material reparation. The craftsman—an ethical architect—must build beyond reflection. But craftmanship is no longer ethically sufficient if it only judges who deserves repair based on performative pain. This is where the symbolic economy of sacrifice collapses: those who have suffered must not merely be honored or remembered—they must be structurally equalized. They must be permitted to live lives as full and rich as those who now consume their memory as moral capital. There is no justification, ethical or political, for the continued monopolization of livable life by those who hide behind commemorative virtue while enjoying the fruits of unshared freedom.

Yet even this ethical craft has limits if it is not coupled with radical redistribution. The mythic victim must not only be acknowledged—they must be released from their myth. Here, capitalism, paradoxically, offers a necessary tool: not because any one mechanism is inherently virtuous or profound, but because no existing liberal or progressive instrument—reparations, welfare, or identity-based redistribution—has succeeded in releasing the mythologized victim from their symbolic role. In the absence of a non-patron-clientelist structure that can offer real exit from sacrificial identity, instruments like shareholdership or even randomized redistribution remain the only viable tools to shift the terrain. Capital, at its coldest, is indifferent to lineage, grievance, and symbolic performance. And that very indifference may be the most ethical feature available: it does not measure worthiness; it redistributes possibility. Not as reward, but as rupture. A metaphysical wager against inherited repetition. A refusal to remember, so that others might begin to live.

And in a world that only remembers your surname, hometown, or trauma—capital remains the only force indifferent enough to liberate you from all three. It may not have a conscience, but it also has no prejudice. And sometimes, that blankness is the most just form of remembering we have left.

This perspective is not rooted in the ivory towers of philosophical critique. Unlike Adorno, Arendt, or Benjamin—who observed authoritarian violence from historical distance, where suffering remained a subject of analysis rather than an object of shared responsibility—this argument emerges from within the vulnerable population itself. It does not mourn trauma as a conceptual loss; it lives within its ongoing consequences. If traditional critical theory attempts to historicize injustice, this voice demands to de-historicize survival. It refuses to be remembered. It insists on being redistributed.

Thus, to move beyond symbolic sacrifice, we need three agents: the Bodhisattva who stays, the craftsman who builds, and the system that gives. This system need not replace ethics, but it must outmaneuver its exclusions—the binaries of good and evil, victim and bystander. Without presence, structure, and rupture, suffering remains mythic, and justice remains posthumous. The task is not to mourn more skillfully, but to liberate more concretely.

A shifting power balance in the South Caucasus is pushing Azerbaijan–Russia relations into a critical phase. In recent years, geopolitical changes in the South Caucasus have begun to reshape the once seemingly strategic relationship between Azerbaijan and Russia. Although the two countries were historically considered close allies, they are now facing a deep crisis of mutual trust — a development not accidental but rather an inevitable result of diverging political trajectories.   The trilateral declaration signed in November 2020 marked Russia’s return to the region through the deployment of peacekeeping forces in Karabakh. However, from the outset, the Russian mission has been met with skepticism in Azerbaijan. The main concern lies in Russia’s perceived lack of neutrality and its occasional implicit support for Armenian separatist elements in the region.   Azerbaijan’s counter-terror operation in September 2023, which restored its full sovereignty over Karabakh, took Moscow by surprise. During the operation, Russian peacekeepers remained passive, and Armenia’s subsequent public expressions of distrust toward Moscow further shifted regional dynamics. Russia found itself losing influence not only in Baku but also in Yerevan.   In recent months, Russian media outlets have intensified anti-Azerbaijani rhetoric, accusing Baku of promoting “Pan-Turkism,” aligning with the West, and failing to show loyalty to Moscow. Such narratives have deeply affected public perception in Azerbaijan. Among citizens and political circles alike, there is growing suspicion that Russia no longer seeks peace and stability in the region but instead aims to maintain leverage through instability.   Azerbaijan’s strengthening ties with Turkey, its push for the Zangezur Corridor, expanding cooperation with the European Union in energy, and increasingly close relations with Western actors directly contradict Russia’s strategic interests in the region. While Baku once pursued a balanced foreign policy, it is now transitioning toward a more assertive, principle-based approach. The shift indicates a growing preference for sovereignty and multi-vector partnerships, notably with Turkey, Pakistan, Israel, and Western allies.   Since mid-2024, Azerbaijan has observed what appears to be informal economic pressure from Russia. Delays at customs checkpoints, transport slowdowns, and unexplained technical barriers have been interpreted by Baku as punitive measures. In response, Azerbaijan has accelerated efforts to diversify trade routes, strengthening links within the Middle Corridor (Trans-Caspian route) and forming deeper economic ties with the Organization of Turkic States.   The information space has become another battleground. Russian state-controlled media are increasingly targeting Azerbaijan with disinformation and geopolitical accusations. In turn, Azerbaijan is responding with its own media strategy, working through public institutions, expert communities, and diaspora networks to present its position to international audiences. The informational dimension of the conflict has, in many ways, become as significant as the diplomatic and economic aspects.   Analysts suggest that Azerbaijan–Russia relations have entered a phase of “cold peace.” Diplomatic gestures and formal statements continue, but genuine strategic trust between the two capitals has eroded. For Azerbaijan, the priority is to pursue national interests without external dependency. For Russia, the goal is to preserve influence and resist Western encroachment in its perceived backyard. These competing priorities point toward either prolonged tensions or a potential confrontation in the future.   The growing rift between Baku and Moscow highlights Azerbaijan’s determination to act independently in pursuit of its national interests. Meanwhile, Russia’s increasing assertiveness and use of economic and informational tools reflect its struggle to retain its role in the South Caucasus. Whether the two countries can recalibrate their relationship based on mutual respect, or whether they slide into a deeper geopolitical rift, will significantly impact the region’s future. The outcome depends on one crucial question: Will they choose cooperation — or confrontation?  

https://reinvantage.org/the-worlds-problem-solver/

The Russo-Ukrainian War is just one destructive trend in today’s international order. But its outcome will help determine the direction in which the world will develop.

 

Andreas Umland

 

Popular labels such as “Ukraine Crisis” or “Ukraine War” lead many people to believe that the Russo-Ukrainian War is a regional problem in East-Central Europe. According to this misjudgment, a Ukrainian leadership more submissive to Russia could not only have avoided the unfortunate war. Kyiv could allegedly still prevent a further conflagration of the conflict, and the spread of the “war in Ukraine” to other parts of Eastern Europe and beyond by way of making territorial and political concessions to Moscow.

From a historical and comparative perspective, the Russo-Ukrainian War looks very different. It is only one of several manifestations of Moscow neo-imperialism and merely one expression of more general regressive developments in the world since the end of the 20th century. Russia’s attack on Ukraine is merely a repetition, manifestation, and anticipation of pathologies that plague not only Central and Eastern Europe but also other regions of the world. The so-called “Ukraine Crisis” is neither an isolated case nor a local problem. It is less a trigger than a symptom of a larger disintegration in the geopolitical and legal order of the planet, in recent years.

At the same time, the Russo-Ukrainian War is a struggle for the future of Europe. Moreover, Ukraine’s self-defense is about upholding the general principles of immutability of state borders and inadmissibility of acts of genocide such as Russia’s current displacement, deportation and Russification of unaccompanied Ukrainian children. The war affects the integrity of the entire UN order established after the Second World War, as it calls into question the right to exist of the Ukrainian republic as an integral member of the United Nations, which – unlike the Russian Federation – has been a member of the UN since 1945. The Russo-Ukrainian War is therefore of not only pan-European but also of global significance.

Russia’s war is, to be sure, only one of several expressions of greater international disorder today. However, its course and outcome could either accelerate or slow down, if not reverse, the current general decline in observing elementary rules of inter-state relations. Even a partial success for Moscow in Ukraine would permanently destabilize international law and order. It could trigger further arms races and armed conflicts not only in Europe, but also other regions of the world.

A successful defense of Ukraine, on the other hand, would have three positive effects on international security, global democracy, and worldwide development. First, a Ukrainian victory would stabilize the rules-based UN order that emerged after 1945 and was consolidated with the self-destruction of the Soviet bloc after 1989. Second, it would foster a revival of democratization trends around the world, which have stalled since the beginning of the 21st century and need new impetus. And third, Ukraine’s experience in national defense and state reform can contribute to global innovation and revitalization in various areas, from cybersecurity and drone use to public administration reform in transition countries.

 

A Ukrainian success would stabilize the international order

The Russo-Ukrainian War is just one of several attempts by powerful states to expand their spheres of influence in their respective regions, since the end of the Cold War. In the wake of a revival of pre-1945 foreign policy practices, revisionist governments are attempting or planning to expand uninvited into their countries’ neighbors. The resulting military operations have been or are offensive, repressive, and unprovoked rather than defensive, humanitarian, and preventive. Several revanchist autocracies are attempting to replace international law with the principle of Might Makes Right.

An early example from the post-Cold War period was Iraq’s annexation of Kuwait in 1990, which was reversed by an international coalition in 1991. Another example from the 1990s was Serbia’s revanchist aggression against other former Yugoslav republics that were once ruled from Belgrade. During this period, Russia also began creating separatist “republics” controlled from Moscow within Moldova (i.e., Transnistria) and Georgia (i.e., Abkhazia and “South Ossetia”). At the same time, Moscow ruthlessly suppressed the emergence of an independent Chechen republic on its own territory.

The Kremlin’s full military attention has only recently turned to Ukraine. Not only did Moscow create so-called “People’s Republics” in the east Ukrainian regions of Donetsk and Luhansk in 2014, with partly irregular, partly regular troops. Russia also occupied and annexed the southern Ukrainian peninsula of Crimea to the Russian Federation. Eight years later, Russia also illegally incorporated the Ukrainian regions of Donetsk, Luhansk, Zaporizhzhia, and Kherson into its official territory. Unlike the attempts by Iraq and Serbia in the 1990s, the international community’s response to Russia’s border revisions remained half-hearted.

The West’s timid responses have only led to further Russian adventurism. Moscow is now demanding that Kyiv voluntarily cede all parts of the four Ukrainian mainland regions that Russia annexed in 2022. This even includes some parts of Ukraine’s state territory that Russian troops were never able to capture. The Kremlin’s ultimate goal remains the annihilation of Ukraine as a sovereign state and of the Ukrainian nation as a cultural community independent of Russia.

At the same time, Beijing is flouting established rules of conduct in the South and East China Seas and stepping up its preparations to incorporate the Republic of China on Taiwan into the People’s Republic by force. Venezuela has laid claim to territory belonging to neighboring Guyana. Against this backdrop, numerous revisionist politicians, diplomats, and strategists in other countries are likely to be hatching similar expansionist plans.

Moscow’s official incorporation of Ukrainian territories into Russian territory is a particularly serious violation of international norms. These annexations were carried out by a permanent member of the UN Security Council, even though this body was created in 1945 to prevent, among other things, such border revisions, which had been frequent until then. The Kremlin’s behavior is also worrying in view of Russia’s role as an official nuclear-weapons and depositary state of the 1968 Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT).

With its attempt to permanently dismember or even destroy Ukraine, Russia is acting in direct contradiction to its special status within the UN Security Council and NPT, as well as the special responsibility for the post-war international order that this entails. The Kremlin is doing this even though Ukraine is an official UN member, a 1945 founding republic of the UN, and an official non-nuclear-weapon state within the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. This undermines the normative, political, and psychological foundations of both the United Nations and the world-wide nuclear non-proliferation regime. Russia has turned its privileges as a permanent member of the UN Security Council and an official nuclear-weapons state under the NPT into instruments for attempt to officially expand its already vast state territory and to eradicate an independent nation that had once been a colony of the Tsarist and Soviet empires.

A Ukrainian victory over Russia would therefore not only be a regional triumph for international law and justice, but an event of greater significance. A Ukrainian success could become an important factor in consolidating the post-war UN order, developing rule-based international relations, and deterring future border revisionism around the world. Conversely, a defeat for Ukraine or an unjust Russia-favoring victory would fuel territorial irredentism across the planet and normalize genocidal warfare. The Ukrainian struggle for independence is thus both an expression of broader global problems and, if successful for Kyiv, an instrument for solving them.

 

A Ukrainian success would revitalize international democratization

Russia’s attack on Ukraine is not just one of several recent challenges to principles such as national sovereignty and the immutability of borders. It is also part of a broader negative global political trend in the early 21st century, namely the increasing confrontation between democracy and autocracy and the weakening of the former. The escalation of this fundamental political conflict is manifested, among other things, in the concerted attack by Russian, North Korean, Chinese, and Iranian anti-democrats on Ukraine as an, at least in the post-Soviet context, relatively liberal, open, and pluralistic nation-state.

An important internal factor in Russia’s invasion of Ukraine since 2014 is that Putin’s wars since 1999 have repeatedly served as sources of popularity, integrity, and legitimacy for his undemocratic rule. Analyses of Russian public support for authoritarianism sometimes overlook the fact that the military punishment, subjugation, and/or oppression of freedom-loving peoples, such as the Chechens, Georgians, and Ukrainians, find broad approval among many ordinary Russians. The support of a large part of Russia’s population for victorious military interventions – especially on the territory of the former Tsarist and Soviet empires – is an important political resource and social base for Putin’s increasingly autocratic regime.

Such regressive tendencies were already evident in Yeltsin’s semi-democratic Russia of the 1990s, with Moscow’s unvarnished military interventions in the internal conflicts of the republics of Moldova and Chechnya in 1992 and 1994, respectively. Under Putin as prime minister (1999–2000, 2008–12) and as president to this day, however, the brutality of Russia’s armed operations, especially outside its borders, has increased rapidly. This radicalization is not only a consequence of escalating Russian irredentism per se, but also an effect of fundamental changes in the political regime within Russia. Moscow’s increasing aggressiveness abroad has been accompanied by a crackdown on dissent at home since Putin came to power in August 1999.

The Kremlin’s growing aggressiveness toward the West and Ukraine did not follow by chance the Ukrainian anti-authoritarian uprisings of 2004 and 2014. It had a lot to do with the triumphant victories of the liberal-democratic Orange and Euromaidan revolutions in those years. Ukraine’s domestic political development not only challenges Russia’s neo-imperial claims to Moscow’s largest former colony. The democratizing Ukrainian state is also a conceptual counter-project to the authoritarian state model prevailing in the post-Soviet space. The mere existence of a relatively democratic Ukraine calls into question the legitimacy of the post-communist autocracies in Russia, Belarus, Azerbaijan, and Central Asia.

The Ukrainian struggle for independence is therefore not only a defense of international law and the international order, but also a battle for world-wide democracy. The conflict between pro- and anti-democratic forces is global and had already intensified before, parallel to, and independently of the Russo-Ukrainian War. At the same time, the confrontation between Russian autocracy and Ukrainian democracy is a particularly epic battle between the two political principles of order, in the heart of Europe.

If Ukraine wins, the international alliance of democrats will prevail, while the axis of autocrats around Putin will lose. In this scenario, not only will other democracies become more secure, self-confident, and dynamic. It is also likely that more authoritarian regimes will falter, especially in Eastern Europe, the Caucasus, and Central Asia. Diffusion, spillover, or domino effects of such changes in the post-Soviet space could in turn give new impetus to democratization elsewhere.

Conversely, a Russian military success or victory in Ukraine would embolden autocratic regimes and anti-democratic politicians worldwide. In such a scenario, democratic forms of government and open societies would be stigmatized as weak, ineffective, and impotent. The recent global decline of democracy would be not reversed but continue and possibly accelerate. The so-called “Ukraine Crisis” is not the cause of the current problems facing the idea of democracy worldwide. However, a just, internationally lawful, and lasting solution to it would revive international democratization.

 

A Ukrainian success would help transferring useful innovations

A third, hitherto underestimated aspect of Kyiv’s contribution to global progress is the growing number of new cognitive, institutional, and technological developments in Ukraine that can also be applied elsewhere. Even before the escalation of the Russo-Ukrainian War in 2022, Kyiv initiated a number of domestic reforms that are also relevant for the modernization of other transition countries. After the victory of the Euromaidan uprising, or “Revolution of Dignity,” in February 2014, Ukraine began a fundamental restructuring of the relationship between the state and society.

This included the creation of several new institutions to combat corruption, including an anti-corruption court and an anti-corruption prosecutor’s office, as well as a corruption prevention agency and an investigative office for bribery cases. What is new about these institutions is that they are dedicated exclusively to preventing, detecting, and prosecuting embezzlement, fraud, and nepotism. In April 2014, Ukraine began a far-reaching decentralization of its public administration system, leading to the comprehensive municipalization of the country. The reform transferred significant powers, finances, and responsibilities from the regional and national levels to local self-government bodies of amalgamated communities, which have now become important centres of power in Ukraine.

The Euromaidan revolution also led to a reshaping of relations between state and non-state organizations. Like other post-Soviet countries, early independent Ukraine suffered from alienation between central state officials and civil society activists. After the victory of the “Revolution of Dignity” in 2014, this divide began to close. For example, the famous Kyiv-based “Reanimation Package of Reforms” is a coalition of independent think tanks, research institutes, and non-governmental organizations that has prepared important new reform laws for the Verkhovna Rada (Supreme Council), Ukraine’s unicameral parliament, over the past 10 years.

Also in 2014, Ukraine, Moldova, and Georgia signed far-reaching association agreements with the EU that are unique in this form. The three bilateral mammoth pacts go far beyond older cooperation agreements between the European Union and non-member countries. They include so-called deep and comprehensive free trade areas between the EU and the three associated post-Soviet states. Since 2014, these particularly large association agreements have been gradually integrating the Ukrainian, Moldovan, and Georgian economies into the European economy.

These and other regulatory innovations related to or originating in Ukraine have broader normative significance and greater political potential. They offer reform templates, institutional models, and historical lessons for other current and future transition countries, not only in the post-Soviet space. Ukraine’s experience can be useful for various nations seeking to transition from a traditional to a liberal order, from clientelist to pluralist politics, from a closed to an open society, from oligarchy to polyarchy, from centralized to decentralized rule, and from mere cooperation to deep association with the EU.

While Ukraine’s post-revolutionary developments are particularly relevant for transition countries, its recent war-related experiences and innovations are also likely to be of interest to established democracies, not least NATO member states. This diffusion potential concerns both the knowledge gained in Ukraine about hybrid threats and how to defend against them, and the rapid technological and tactical modernization of the Ukrainian armed and security forces fighting Russian troops and agents on the battlefield and in the hinterland. Since 2014, Ukraine has been the target of Moscow’s multilateral attacks—more than any other country in the world—with irregular and regular units, in the media and cyberspace, in domestic and foreign policy, and on its infrastructure, economy, as well as religious, academic, educational, and other cultural institutions.

Since February 24, 2022, Ukraine has been engaged in a dramatic struggle for survival against a nominally far superior aggressor. The Ukrainian government, army, and society have had to adapt quickly, flexibly, and thoroughly to this existential challenge. This has included the rapid introduction of new types of weapons and applications, such as a wide range of unmanned aerial, aquatic, and land vehicles, and their deployment with the help of artificial intelligence, among other things.

Ukraine had to be highly innovative in a range of military and dual-use technologies in order to withstand the deadly Russian attack. In areas such as power transmission and storage, electronic communications, information verification, emergency medicine, mine clearance, post-traumatic psychotherapy, and the reintegration of veterans, the Ukrainian government and society had no choice but to respond swiftly and decisively. While Ukraine often draws on foreign experience, equipment, and training, it is also constantly developing its own innovative equipment, approaches, and mechanisms that could be useful elsewhere. Ukraine’s knowledge and experience will be particularly beneficial to countries that may face similar challenges.

 

Ukraine as a problem solver

Many observers see Ukraine merely as a disruptive factor in maintaining or restoring the European security order and international cooperation practices. However, the general rise of global revanchism and authoritarianism in recent years began largely independently of developments in Ukraine. The regional escalation of Moscow’s neo-imperialism in the post-communist space in general, and the genocidal obsession of Russia’s imperial nationalists with Ukraine in particular, has little to do with Ukraine as a projection screen for such Russian pathologies. Ukraine, like Moldova, Georgia, and other states under external pressure, is merely a victim and not the cause of growing international tensions and anti-democratic trends.

The Russian military attack on Ukraine since 2014 has turned this hitherto little-noticed European country—nolens volens—into a flashpoint for global regressive tendencies. The escalation of Moscow’s attack into a full-scale invasion in 2022 transformed Ukraine into an object of strategic decision-making about the future world security order, a fateful confrontation between democracy and autocracy, and a source of important technical and administrative innovations with international diffusion potential. In the wake of Ukraine’s transformation and national defense efforts in recent years, Ukrainians are fundamentally reshaping their state, economy, army, and society. The new solutions, reform models, and key technologies that have emerged and are emerging from this Ukrainian process are likely to be of interest to many countries around the world, if not of vital importance to some.

 

Dr. Andreas Umland is an analyst at the Stockholm Centre for East European Studies (SCEEUS) in the Swedish Institute of International Affairs (UI).

An Iranian F-14 Tomcat, similar to the one stolen by Mavrick and Miles Teller in the latest Top Gun 2 movie, meets it’s fate soon after this image was taken by a targeting camera.

The pending change of the game in the Middle East has often depended on who rules in Iran, and the type of Government and allies it wishes to pursue as one of the oldest cultures in the region. With the collapse of the old Regent in Iran in 1979, and the massive assaults on some of the other oldest cultures in the region since 2014, a change in Government might show that old cultures in the region may still have a path to a future in their indigenous homelands. The question remains however, will this pending change actually take place, and who has the right and ability to rule the country once it takes shape?

The voice of the Government in exile from Iran is a descendant of the former Shah of Iran, and he has actively promoted freeing Iran from the current regime with a great deal of support from international opposition to the regime and his people abroad. An example of a Regent reforming a country from one party rule towards a democratic system came about in the late 70s in Spain. Spain was controlled by General Franco since before the Second World War, and was almost frozen in tyranny apart from the rest of Europe under his dictatorship. When General Franco of Spain was on his last years, he apparently had asked that King Juan Carlos I of Spain continue his regime by passing the mantle of leadership to a new one party ruler, to which the King decided to free Spain from one party rule and guide the country into an elected and democratic government. While King Juan Carlos I was present inside the country for many years and was not in direct conflict with the former regime, he decided to guide his nation away from Franco’s regime towards a democratic future. While Spain is now considered one of the most free countries in the world, reforming a nation from decades of one party rule is no simple act.

Questions in how to handle former victims of regimes was a major societal discussion in Spain, as a change in Government may not remove all those with state secrets, with embedded unearned wealth, or even those who committed atrocities against their own citizens in the decades long control of the state. Countries in Latin America, who also suffered under one party rule or rule by military Government in the Cold War period, almost all moved away from their military Governments. Despite this major reformation, they were hard pressed to remove the agents of chaos still present in their democratically elected Governments post dictatorial rule. The hindrance in building a democracy was always plagued by enshrined interests linked to former regimes, especially ones connected to former “Disappeared” victims of the military junta, with those having knowledge of the crimes never properly facing justice. Regime change is always difficult when attempting it from abroad, but can be just as complex if done internally with local interest groups leading the charge.

Spain fell under its own weight, but the cause of change really came about from the death of the one man running the entire country. Change in Iran, if it comes, will come from decisions from those running the decades long regime to engage in conflict it was not able to win or manage from within the country. It could be the case that any type of one person or one party regime has a shelf life, as they tend of often unravel after 60 to 70s years of internal chaos if not directly challenged from abroad. When they do not collapse from the passing of Dear Leader, they often commit to self fulfilling conclusions by challenging their neighbours while in a cocoon of corruption and blind, uninformed ambition. When those in power are at the end of their days due to age or illness, the only value they really are satiated by is one of legacy and reputation. This is often why their loss is most effective with a demonstration of weakness and shattering of ego. A show of strength is often as powerful as strength itself if it continues to maintain their control over an oppressed population. It is why chaos and anarchy is used by regimes as their main weapon of dictatorship….especially by the weakest of regimes. It is why weakness fears the truth, and will do everything against an army of words and letters.

In recent years, diplomatic developments have significantly disrupted and reshaped the global trade and logistics systems that had been established over decades. One of the most impactful events in this context was Russia’s — or more precisely, President Vladimir Putin’s — decision to launch a military invasion of Ukraine, effectively sparking the ongoing Russia-Ukraine war that began in March 2022.

In response, the West — namely the United States and Western Europe — sought to impose severe economic penalties on Russia as both a form of punishment for igniting a European war and as a strategy to cripple its military and other critical sectors by cutting off financial lifelines. As part of this effort, Western Europe dap dramatically reduced its purchases of Russian natural gas and began searching for alternatives to both Russian gas and oil (it’s important to note that Russia is the world’s largest gas exporter and the second-largest oil exporter, after Saudi Arabia). Furthermore, Western countries are avoiding any diplomatic or economic engagements that might benefit Russia — including allowing goods to transit through Russian territory, which could generate revenue for Moscow through taxes.

A similar approach has been adopted toward another pariah state — the Islamic Republic of Iran. The recent war between Hamas and Israel, along with Iran’s involvement in supporting jihadist attacks and missile strikes, has led the West to double down on efforts to economically isolate Iran, much like they have with Russia.

It is precisely in this geopolitical context — where Russia and Iran have become largely untouchable for most global actors — that the “Organization of Turkic States” (OTS) has emerged. This alliance, while not radically different from the European Union in structure or vision, resembles the foundational logic behind the United States of America — only this time, among Turkic-speaking nations. Member states include Azerbaijan, Turkey, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and Kyrgyzstan.

Historically, Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser attempted to create a unified Arab state, based on the belief that a pan-Arab union — blessed with oil, natural resources, and control over critical chokepoints like the Suez Canal — would be geopolitically unbeatable. That vision failed, primarily because every Arab leader at the time wanted to be the one in charge. Today, the Turkic alliance avoids that trap. It is not about creating a new country, but about forming a unified bloc that empowers each member and increases their collective influence in dealing with the West and the East.

The OTS’s objective is to establish a barrier-free space for international cooperation and joint development, stretching from Western Europe to South and East Asia. Its strategic mission is to reunify the fractured Eurasian continent — which global powers have historically divided — and to restore peace as a central element in the global agenda. Unlike the failed pan-Arab unity project, which was founded on hostility toward Israel, the OTS is not built on conflict but on shared interests for regional stability and prosperity.

So what gives the OTS its strategic strength in this complex global moment? The answer lies in geography and logistics. The Turkic states control the only viable overland route for transporting goods between Europe and parts of Asia. They also serve as critical gateways for Europe to access essential natural resources — both those located within the Turkic states themselves and those that must pass through them en route to Europe. With the West refusing to collaborate with Iran and Russia, the OTS corridor — which stretches from China and Pakistan to the heart of Europe in Hungary — becomes essential.

A successful partnership between the OTS and European states could lead to uniquely accessible transport and communications corridors that connect Western Europe’s economic hubs with those in East Asia, while also linking them to the growing markets and production centers of Central and South Asia. In short, this is a win-win situation for everyone — except, of course, for Russia and Iran.

On May 21, Budapest — the capital of Hungary — hosted the latest OTS summit. Although Hungary is a European country, it holds observer status within the OTS and actively participates in its activities (it’s worth remembering that large parts of Hungary were once under Ottoman rule). There is, in fact, no significant geopolitical gap between Hungary and the Turkic states. As Europe has lost its traditional eastern routes through Russia and Iran and now faces instability along its southern borders — not to mention threats to the Suez Canal — it seems that the OTS corridor may be Europe’s only realistic path to the East. 

Without it, Europe risks becoming a marginal appendage to the United States — a country skilled at rhetoric but lacking meaningful initiatives. European states have begun adjusting their foreign policies accordingly, recognizing the OTS as a key player in the emerging Eurasian order. Even the European Union was forced to accept the observer status of the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus in the OTS — despite longstanding opposition from Greece.

The OTS also offers political backing to Hungary against pressure from liberal elites within the EU and presents an alternative to other “pseudo-liberal” projects.

At the conclusion of the summit, the OTS issued the “Budapest Declaration,” directed at global leaders and especially those in Europe. The declaration emphasized the OTS’s vital role in securing global peace, security, and sustainable development. It reaffirmed the Turkic states’ commitment to building a reliable transportation and communication corridor linking Europe to Asia, fostering a zone of peace and development along the way. The core message was a call to overcome international divisions and construct a peace-oriented region stretching from Europe to China. However, the declaration did not shy away from defense and security issues — for example, it referenced the expansion of cooperation in the defense industry.

The OTS draws upon Turkic legacies of the past, promotes inclusivity, and is rooted in shared histories across regions such as the South Caucasus, the Balkans, the Middle East, and Eastern Europe. The Budapest Declaration underscores the “Turkic World Vision,” which affirms the value of uniting Turkic nations not only through a shared past, but through a common vision for the present and future. The vision promotes cooperation based on a shared Turkic identity, history, culture, and traditions, explicitly rejecting racist ideologies and embracing multiculturalism. The definition of a “Turkic state” is broadly interpreted — as evidenced by Hungary’s observer status.

It appears that the Turkic era is making a powerful return, echoing the days when three great Turkic empires — the Ottoman, the Mamluk, and the Mongol — dominated the Middle East, the Balkans, Eastern Europe, and Asia. History, it seems, is repeating itself.

 Among all the member states of the Organization of Turkic States (OTS), one country stands out more than the rest—Azerbaijan. First and foremost, there is no doubt that Azerbaijan holds a crucial position in the emerging trade corridor the OTS is striving to establish. Alongside Kazakhstan, Azerbaijan controls a key transit route from Europe to several important regions in Asia, making its role irreplaceable. Without its cooperation, the entire trade initiative would likely collapse.

Secondly, over the past few years, Azerbaijan has gradually become one of the major transportation and logistics hubs in the wider Eurasian region. This status was acknowledged by Kazakhstan’s President, Kassym-Jomart Tokayev, who publicly thanked Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev for the logistical support Azerbaijan provided in boosting Kazakhstan’s oil exports. Third, Azerbaijan is the largest investor among all Turkic states, with its total investments in OTS countries exceeding 20 billion US dollars. This financial strength suggests that Azerbaijan may well be the most economically stable member of the organization—and potentially one of the most militarily capable as well.

Aside from Turkey, Azerbaijan is the only OTS member that has engaged in actual warfare in the past decade. Its conflict with Armenia led to increased military funding and the development of a highly trained army. In addition, Azerbaijan maintains exceptionally close ties with Turkey—often referred to as its “brother nation”—and with Kazakhstan, with whom it cooperates across a wide range of sectors. Taken together, these factors position Azerbaijan as arguably the strongest member of the OTS in terms of economy, security, and diplomacy. What is certain, however, is that it is one of the most dominant and influential players within the organization.

The Iron Beam is the next Generation of Air Defense

The idea of the Golden Dome for Air Defense over the United States and some of its allies is not a new concept, but it likely was not possible to be completely effective until the 2020s. In the 1980s, President Reagan’s idea of his Star Wars named SDI space based defense system was an ambitious plan to have missile interceptors and possible laser based weapons in space that would target ICBMs once they entered the upper atmosphere. While ballistic intercontinental missiles entered space or near space when meeting targets on the other side of the globe, the amount of computer processing power and technology needed to hit a very fast moving target was in its infancy. At the time as well, MIRV Missiles, or missiles that launched multiple warheads was at the peak of nuclear missile technology, and would likely ensure that at least some of the warheads would hit, even if the SDI-Star Wars concept was feasible. Such MIRV nuclear missiles are still a threat today, difficult to stop even in the 2020s.

The idea that the United States could defend against a nuclear missile attack did have some utility, as the Soviets were unsure at the time if they would be able to penetrate a US defense shield, putting them in a weak position militarily. The Soviets were aware of the US Nike missile defense systems, one version that worked by setting off a nuke in the sky to destroy many incoming targets, but thought that Star Wars may have been the effective answer to MAD for the US, and would have changed the power dynamic completely. Later in the early 90s during the Gulf War, the first generation of US Patriot Missiles were sent to the region to defend against Soviet made SCUD missiles being launched from Iraq. While they claimed the Patriot could shoot down missiles at the time, the reality is that few SCUDs were shot down by Patriots, being a system geared towards shooting slower flying, larger aircraft.

The War in Ukraine showed the effectiveness of even older anti-aircraft systems against airplanes, with even old 1980s era systems like the SA-8 keeping both Russian and Ukrainian higher flying aircraft grounded during the war. The start of the war began with Ukraine’s most experienced pilots being shot down soon after take-off in Ukraine by Russian S-300 type missiles based in Belarus. The reality of missile technology at the time effectively grounded both Air Forces. As the war continued on, newer and more expensive NATO missile systems were placed in Ukraine, as Russian bombers would take to launching long range missiles from a safe distance and the new systems were the only ones that had the chance to stop many of these extremely fast missiles.

The Golden Dome Type missile shield desired by the US Administration would likely be composed of different tiers of defense, some of which already exist today in one form or another. Many believe that the Golden Dome would be a copy of the Iron Dome, but even in Israel, the Iron Dome is only used for small munitions, shot in volleys and easily destroyed with small warheads. For ballistic missile defense, the Arrow type missile system is used along with another ranged system. A US version would likely be needed more for long range ballistic missiles, as the threat to the US would be from abroad, not likely from directly over the border Katyusha rocket attacks. The US THAAD system is already deployed in Israel, along with US Navy missile defense systems and radars which are already very effective against incoming missile attacks.

The THAAD system is already deployed by the United States as a missile defense system against threats from North Korea. There is a THAAD system based in South Korea at the moment, and THAAD based in protection of Hawaii in Guam. It could be imagined that the Golden Dome could be easily established with an expanded radar network for THAAD into Central America, Northern Canada(where there was always a radar base in Alert, Canada), and Greenland. Improvements on the THAAD may take place using information in defending against Iran’s ballistic missile attacks and hypersonic missile attacks in Ukraine. The challenge for the THAAD or other systems is that THAAD should be used ideally only for longer ranges, and have enough interceptors to defend against a large swarm attack of enemy missiles. The concept of multi-tiered defense already exists within the US Navy, with SM-6 and other variants of SM missiles being used to target differing levels of threats. The reality is that few planes could likely evade a modern missile defense if targeted by the radar and having a Meteor missile, PL-15 or new US missiles shot at them. The Golden Dome requires a THAAD or similar type missile, ones that can hit hypersonic nuclear threats, can see stealthy and intelligent incoming missiles and will be aided by preventive diplomacy and preemptive strikes as best policy.

Ukraine made history by sneaking truck based shipping containers close to bomber air bases in Russia and launching a drone attack on several bases at once, targeting sensitive parts Russia’s bomber fleet. Russia has a limited bomber capability with many of their ships made during the Soviet era, many being out of production, or difficult and expensive to replace. These bombers were the stand off launchers for Russian missile attacks on Ukraine, and a plan was made over a year ago to execute this highly precise mission. Information has been rolling in about destroyed targets, with slower, older and more numerous TU-95 Bear bombers taking the brunt of the hits. Many supersonic TU-22M3/TU-26 bombers were also hit, planes that are no longer replaceable as they are out of production. Some of the prized TU-160 Blackjack bombers may have also been lost, along with a very valuable A-50 AWACS aircraft and many transport aircraft, all burned on the airfields.

The Golden Dome concept should not assume that their systems are infallible, as Russian territory is blanketed with S-400, Pantsir and S-500 defense systems that have not stopped attacks inside Russia, despite being comparable to the US THAAD system. The Ukrainian intelligence operation to attack Russia’s bomber fleet inside of Russia, along with a possible Submarine base, is a lesson in humility…in that you should not assume there are not internal threats when possessing the best missile defense in the world…and humiliation, where wars can be shifted in direction via narrative as much as via the number of soldiers an army possesses. Internal Guerrilla threats can be as dangerous as external missiles, and the Golden Dome is only as good as safe streets and a responsible Government.

The newly reinstated President of the United States, having returned to the White House and the Oval Office, has quickly managed to initiate a range of diplomatic processes that once seemed like distant fantasies. Even more remarkably, he is already beginning to reap the rewards of these efforts in a surprisingly short amount of time.

Donald Trump has resumed the presidency during a time when the world is engulfed in a storm of violence, hatred, and chaos. A prolonged war between Ukraine and Russia has triggered numerous global crises, as both countries are major wheat exporters vital to international food supply chains. Meanwhile, the conflict between Israel and the terrorist organization Hamas is reshaping the entire Middle East landscape, robbing the region’s residents of peace and stability. Beyond the war itself, the issue of Israeli hostages held by Hamas in Gaza has had global repercussions, as many of the hostages also hold dual citizenships—Argentinian, French, and American among them.

On top of that, Syria’s regime has collapsed, Lebanon has appointed a new president after a long power vacuum, and China continues to grow stronger economically. Despite this complex global reality, Trump has not been deterred. Instead, he has chosen to tackle these challenges through the method he knows best: advancing mutual interests- in a word, business.

During a recent speech in Saudi Arabia, Trump declared that the decisions he has made and the actions he has taken in his first four months in office surpass the accomplishments of previous presidents over the past eight years. And frankly, he’s not wrong. It appears Trump has made a conscious decision to stop observing global problems from a distance and instead begin seeking fast, practical solutions.

Moreover, Trump has shifted the American approach to international conflicts—moving away from forceful intervention and one-sided involvement, and toward genuine dialogue and strategic negotiation. In his speech, he praised a “new generation of leaders” in Riyadh, Abu Dhabi, Doha, and Muscat, saying they are “transcending the ancient conflicts of tired divisions of the past and forging a future where the Middle East is defined by commerce, not chaos; where it exports technology, not terrorism; and where people of different nations, religions and creeds are building cities together, not bombing each other out of existence.”

Trump emphasized that this new era in the Middle East was not brought about by Western interference, but by the efforts of local Arab leaders themselves—who followed their own vision in pursuit of their goals. He argued that past Western involvement in the region often did more harm than good, drawing a direct comparison between President Biden’s administration and the colonial powers of Britain and France in the early 20th century, who carved up the Middle East according to their own interests. Trump accused Biden and his team of making misguided decisions and arbitrarily favoring certain nations over others.

He concluded his remarks to the Arab leaders by praising their cultural resilience, stating: “You achieved a modern miracle the Arabian way, that’s a good way.”

In Azerbaijan, many who heard Trump’s speech in Saudi Arabia couldn’t help but notice the parallels he drew between the Biden administration and how Azerbaijan felt it was treated under Biden’s leadership. Azerbaijanis perceived themselves as second-class in the eyes of key international powers, believing other countries received preferential treatment. Many in the country recall the words of President Ilham Aliyev just a month earlier: “Those who smiled at us were in fact trying to stab us in the back,” referencing the alleged channeling of funds into Azerbaijan to support groups working to overthrow the government.

Aliyev claimed that “such notorious institutions like the National Democratic Institute (NDI) were actually plotting a coup d’état here.” He continued, “We traced more than 1 million US dollars from a bank account, which was cashed out, and then we found part of that money in rented apartments of opposition activists, together with Molotov cocktails and instructions on how to attack government buildings, how to attack policemen. So, we experienced all of that. The attempts of an Orange Revolution here in 2005 were inspired by the U.S. State Department.”

According to Aliyev, during Biden’s tenure, Azerbaijan was the target of many false rumors, which suddenly stopped once the Democrats left office. Regarding this, he remarked: “We knew that the source of these articles was the State Department.”

In conclusion, Trump’s return to the White House offers hope for a better future—especially for the Middle East and Azerbaijan. It’s hard not to suspect that the Biden administration had ulterior motives for withholding cooperation with Azerbaijan and repeatedly undermining it. After all, how else can one explain the dramatic shift in the U.S. approach within just a few months? All we can do now is hope that Trump- “the gift that keeps on giving”—will continue supporting Azerbaijan and other countries in the region toward a future of peace, prosperity, and strong economies.

India’s French Made Rafale is one of the most advanced fighter jets in their region.

The recent bouts of battles between India and Pakistan comes at a time where many other parts of the world are in conflict, and many suspect that conflict will extend East towards Asia. While it is difficult to get precise information on details of the active battlefield between the two countries, the defense establishment in many parts of the world are watching with great interest on the developments of their systems in actual combat.

India’s and Pakistan’s Air Forces are an interesting mix of different planes and systems from various parts of the world. Pakistan uses US military equipment like the F-16, and is heavily invested with China in developing many weapons systems against Indian interests. China and Pakistan’s joint fighter program of the JF-17 has likely seen combat in the latest row with India, a program meant to solidify both Pakistan’s and China’s combined security push against India. While other weapons systems have followed this joint program, they are usually based around ground vehicles and tanks, with the JF-17 being a jointly produced and advanced small fighter plane.

What has been the focus of a great deal of interest is the use of the Chinese made J-10 fighter jet by Pakistan. The J-10 is one of the more advanced Chinese fighter jets in the region, albeit one that never had been used in actual combat. Paired with the J-10 is the new long range PL-15 missile, a modern system that can theoretically out range most similar NATO missiles. Claims that the J-10 had been very successful in countering advanced Indian Air Force fighters often come with the claim that long range PL-15 missiles played a major role in their success.

India’s Air Force has one of the most diverse and capable fleets in the region. India’s close ties with Soviet and Russian technology has equipped India with some of the most advanced Russian technology, despite India being a strong Western ally. Often produced via license in India, systems like the T-90 tank and SU-30 keep India supplied with advanced weapons systems. The purchase of French aircraft like the Mirage 2000 and Rafale give India some of the most capable technology worldwide in securing their territory.

Claims that a J-10 shot down at least one Rafale is one of the most notable claims made during the start of the war, with both sides trying to demonstrate their strengths using the narrative of the lost or survived Rafale. In reality, new technology battles involve long range targeting of enemy aircraft using BVR, Beyond Visual Range radars and missiles. Evading new missile technology is difficult for any aircraft that can be picked up on long range radar, and it could be the case that the side with the most missiles will often dominate the airspace. The point of interest from NATO allies seems to be whether or not the French Mirage 2000 and Rafale has a radar and missile combination that can best China’s new J-10 with the PL-15 missile, or if China’s new weapons are as advanced and as capable as they claim them to be?

China’s weapons programs often came with licensing and taken Western and Soviet technologies that were seen as technologically behind those of their counterparts. Many Chinese weapons systems were officially licensed from France, like their HQ-7 Crotale missile system, or taken from Russian samples like China’s J-11 fighter, a copy of Russia’s SU-27. Even recent Chinese made fighters like the J-10 often depended on Russian made engines and equipment, limiting China’s ability to sell its equipment abroad due to Russian licensing controls on weapon parts. With the J-10 demonstrating any victory over their Western or Russian counterparts, China would be able to finally develop its foreign weapons sales past its traditional allies and establish a serious international presence outside of its region.

The air battles between India and Pakistan were different than air to air conflict in Ukraine as much of the Russian and Ukrainian long range fighter systems have been grounded, or dedicated to launching long range air to surface munitions as opposed to engaging other enemy aircraft. With the F-16 and now Mirage 2000 being present in Ukraine, it is still difficult to see how successful they would be against Russia’s air force in direct combat. The reality of the air war in Ukraine is that both Ukraine and Russia have flooded the airspace with advanced anti-aircraft systems and radars, and flying too far into the combat zone would guarantee being targeted. While India is covered by S-400 systems, and Pakistan is using an S-300 copy/licensed HQ-9 Chinese system, their air war looks a lot more like ones from years ago when anti-air systems were not as deadly as they are post-2020. The interest in the advancement of China’s technology will play into battle simulations as the long range missile and radar is the king of air combat, and will determine whether or not an attack is viable.

A huge rally in solidarity with the Sudanese people victims of chemical weapons and calling for
peace in Sudan was organized on May 18th in front of the UK parliament in London . The
demonstration gathered more than 100 people from different EU and UK organizations as well
as a coalition of Sudanese human rights organizations under the “Sudanese peace forum”
including Safe steps and Sudanese women for peace as well as and the Peace and Democratic
Transition Organization to call for an immediate action to stop war in Sudan and prosecute the
Sudanese army for human rights violations.

Representatives from EU human rights organizations invited the international community to stand up for the rights of the Sudanese people and stop the war as well as end the suffering of civilians mainly women and children. Film director and human rights activist Deborah Paul highlighted that” Caught in the crossfire are millions of innocent civilians—and tragically, women and children have become
deliberate targets. Rape is being used not only as an act of violence, but as a weapon of
war. Girls as young as one. Boys. Mothers, grandmothers, daughters. Sisters, friends.
Entire communities torn apart” she also added the need to act now and demand
accountability. We must amplify the courage of survivors. We must support the frontline
organizations offering medical care, trauma healing, and protection. And we must name
this for what it is: a crime against humanity”

Aye Soe Kari, president of international Burmese students ,youth activist and human
rights defender pointed out that “Sudan is now the crisis of the world’s worst hunger crisis,
a crisis that barely makes global headlines. More than 26 million people, over half the country, face food insecurity. That means children crying from hunger with nothing to eat. That means mothers skipping meals for days just so their babies can survive a little longer. In some areas, families are eating
leaves from trees. In others, people are boiling water with rocks, pretending it’s soup to
comfort their starving children.

In the camps, there’s no milk, no bread, no fruit. People line up for hours in the heat for a
bowl of porridge, and often there’s not enough to go around. Children have swollen bellies
and thinning hair, classic signs of starvation. Some families have been forced to eat the
seeds they were saving for the next planting season, knowing full well it means they might
not be able to grow food next year.

And while people starve, aid trucks and international help gets blocked by violence. Farmers
have fled their land. Markets have been bombed. Food prices have skyrocketed. And
what little help is available often doesn’t reach those who need it most”
ABDELRAHIM GREIN Adam ,the head of the Peace and Democratic Transition
Organization addressed an urgent call to the international community to stand with the
Sudanese population victim of chemical weapons.

He added that “The Sudanese army is no longer a national army. It is a criminal militia hijacked by radical
Islamists, and partnered with extremist groups like Al-Qaeda, ISIS, and the remnants of
the Muslim Brotherhood. These are not accusations. They are facts — documented by survivors, field reports, and the smoldering ruins of our cities. Chemical Weapons are used against children, families, hospitals, and markets. Invisible death, seeping into homes and lungs, leaving entire communities”

Mohammed Momin, a communication officer at Safesteps organization pointed out that
“The most notable violations against the use of chemical weapons in the army of Abdel
Fattah al-Burhan in the capital. This brutal use of the Armed Forces causes a general
population and the attention of organizations to defend human beings from the necessity
of causing all urgency.

Mrs Fathia Elbushary ,president of Sudanese women of Peace called international
community to stand with Sudanese Women and children as well as the vulnerable
communities victims of violence , famine and displacement .

The use of chemical weapons, violence against women and children, and discrimination against
ethnic and religious minorities—primarily the Christian minority—by Armed Sudanese forces
were denounced by all participants, human rights organizations, journalists, and academics.
They also called for immediate action to end the war and to promote peace and dialogue
between the various ethnic, religious, and political groups in order to end one of the worst
humanitarian crises in history, which has resulted in the death of more than 150,000 people
and the displacement of more than 14 million people and causing the famine of almost 25
million people.

Bandar Abbas explosion of suspected rocket fuel shipped from China.

The new Tariff policy of the United States has been dealt with very differently in various countries, but the most successful approaches tend to be the ones that treat the tariff issues as tax issues, instead of national security issues. It will often be easier to challenge a tariff with a counter-tariff, and try to come to a meeting of minds where both parties benefit in a situation where one side has less power than the other. Working to eliminate as many tariffs as possible will leave some key sectors more vulnerable, but will also aid in having the best products win out in competition worldwide. Working for a country’s own self interests is a rationale response to a difficult economic environment, and those countries that apply added taxes on their own citizens will lose out as tariffs compound trade issues and force countries to compete or lose jobs.

When the Tariff War is taken as a Hot Conflict, the issues will most likely spiral into a self fulfilling security issue. Passive support given to acts that damage international trade will illicit a strong response, as some countries look to find cause to take trade issues beyond simply negotiating contracts. While newer events like China’s apparently intelligence support for Houthi targeting of US ships comes after the tariff complications, there is often a history of security issues that do not seem to be tied to tariff issues, but were always a persistent threat.

The recent explosion of rocket fuel materials at the port of Bandar Abbas in Iran looked to be shipped from China, materials used to make ballistic missile systems that have plagued many other nations in the region. Similar to the explosion at the port of Beirut a few years ago, the links between Iran’s regime to these events may be linked to similar materials from China in the past, but it is impossible to verify. With former Chinese PLA soldiers now known to be fighting with Russian forces in Ukraine and the Kursk region, tariffs may evolve to become only the first step in challenging security issues from China and other rogue nations.

With the recent election in Canada, there are many questions on how the rhetoric of the winning party has been applied in relations countering the United States. While the latest election was based on the belief by many in Canada that the US President wished to physically invade the country, past actions between the same Governing party in Canada and US adversaries show that there were many pre-tariff concerns for both Canadians and Americans.

Activities in the recent past between Canada’s Government and China’s PLA resulted in joint military training exercises to enable China’s PLA troops to fight more effectively in arctic conditions, skills likely used during the winter months on the front in Ukraine. Contact with NATO forces, strategies, and equipment is not something most of Canada’s NATO allies likely expected, and intelligence on equipment donated to Ukraine may have been used in the conflict. Canada’s contribution of Leopard 2A6 tanks makes up part of the NATO contribution of Leopard 2 combat systems, the most modern tank in Ukraine’s arsenal. Knowledge of the strengths and weaknesses of the Leopard 2 makes all NATO armies vulnerable in combat because of several combat exercises conducted between Canada and China over the last ten years, just a few hours from the US border.

With the same Government in power in Canada for the last ten years, ties with China’s Government only increased systemically in Canada. Language challenging tariffs often have a similar theme, and it must be questioned on why this might be the case. During the election itself, an opposition candidate was threatened several times by those affiliated with China’s regime, condoned by the Prime Minister’s campaign team. Two RCMP whistle blowers also came out during the campaign, naming many Cabinet Ministers of the previous Prime Minister and current Prime Minister with links to China’s regime. With rhetoric against the United States being the backbone of the election campaign, it must be made clear if Canada stands with its traditional allies, or if they wish to tie themselves to China’s falling regime. While it would be easier to just pay tariffs and taxes until an agreement can be made, influence in support of well established security issues against NATO allies has no future path to success. Look to the next few months on how relations over the northern border of the United States will develop. The best predictor of future results are past actions however, and these issues need to be addressed promptly.