Trump’s approach aligns not with Munich but with the world envisioned at the Yalta Conference 80 years ago—a world where great powers dictate the fate of smaller states. Once again, major powers are carving Europe into spheres of influence, disregarding international institutions such as the United Nations and the European Union. The return to Yalta signifies the erosion of the democratic, multilateral order that has underpinned Europe’s peace since 1945. It marks a departure from the United Nations Charter’s vision of “equal rights for nations large and small” and a shift toward a rule of the jungle where only the powerful have a voice. The question remains: Has Europe, long reliant on an idealistic order, adapted over the past three years to survive the harsh realities of contemporary geopolitics? 

1945 Yalta, 2025 Ukraine 

Ukraine’s fate today echoes that of the Eastern European states in 1945—the exclusion of smaller states from determining their own future. This historical tragedy was evident in the 1939 Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, in which Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union partitioned Eastern Europe into spheres of influence. After Nazi Germany’s defeat, Stalin sought recognition for the communist regimes installed by the Red Army, a demand he pressed during the Yalta Conference in February 1945. President Roosevelt, needing Stalin’s support in the Pacific Theater and Soviet participation in the newly formed United Nations, conceded to Moscow’s ambitions.² Consequently, the Yalta Agreement legitimized the Soviet-backed Polish Committee of National Liberation—despite its lack of popular support—as the de facto government of Poland and permitted Stalin’s forced imposition of a communist regime in Romania.³ In Roosevelt’s vision of the postwar world order, the sovereignty of these countries was not a matter of principle but a bargaining chip.

Eighty years later, the same cold-blooded logic governs power politics. Sir Alex Younger, the former head of MI6, described Trump as a “Yalta man through and through”—someone who believes that great powers have the right to dictate the affairs of small ones. To Trump, international politics is a game of leverage. As he articulated in The Art of the Deal, “The best thing you can do is deal from strength, and leverage is the biggest strength you can have. Leverage is having something the other guy wants.”⁶ In this framework, alliances, democratic values, and international norms are secondary to raw bargaining power. States that can offer something of value will secure dividends, while those without leverage are left to fend for themselves—a de facto zero-sum game. 

This marks a departure from the traditional Westphalian principle of formal equality among nations, long regarded as a foundation of the liberal international order. In its place emerges a hierarchy of power, where a nation’s fate is determined not by legal or moral standing but by its geopolitical assets. The liberal ideals of harmony and common interests are now seen as naive illusions that fail to serve U.S. strategic priorities. Trump’s remark about Ukraine’s leader captures this brutal reality: “I’ve been watching President Zelensky negotiate with no cards. He has no cards, and you get sick of it. I don’t think he’s very important to be in meetings.” In the new order, those without bargaining power are sidelined.  The idealist rule-based international order is being dismantled and replaced with a high-stakes card game in which weak hands are forced out or must pay more to stay in the game. Trump’s insistence that aid to Ukraine must be transactional—particularly in the form of mineral deals—reduces sovereignty from a right to a mere bargaining chip. 

The Illusion of Idealistic Order 

The collapse of the idealist order—built on multilateralism, alliances, and democracy—was never a question of if, but when. Biden’s victory in 2020 seemed to offer a temporary revival of this crumbling system, but this was merely a mirage. The world had already shifted away from rule-based cooperation and toward a paradigm reminiscent of Yalta, where major powers dictate the course of history on their own terms. History has repeatedly shown that idealistic rhetoric, crafted to serve national interests, is easily abandoned when it ceases to be useful. During the Cold War, the U.S. justified the overthrow of democratically elected Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh of Iran as a defense against communism—sacrificing the very principles it claimed to uphold. Even after the Cold War ended, the utopian vision of a world interconnected through trade and international organizations never materialized. The 2003 invasion of Iraq demonstrated that the U.S., despite its professed commitment to multilateralism and a rules-based order, continued to violate national sovereignty in pursuit of national interests.

The most telling rupture came in 2021 when President Biden ordered the withdrawal of military operations from Afghanistan. This decision, framed as economic pragmatism—“billions of dollars spent each year makes little sense to me.”—revealed that America’s role as the global defender of democracy had run its course. The U.S. dropped its veil of idealism, revealing a self-serving pragmatism by claiming that “creating a unified, centralized democracy” was never its mission in Afghanistan.⁹ Once justified as a fight for democratic stability, the intervention was abandoned when it ceased serving U.S. strategic interests. Public sentiment aligned, with 64% of Americans supporting withdrawal. Biden’s declaration that “We’ve got to prove democracy works,” made only a month prior, quickly rang hollow.

Washington’s commitment to liberal ideals has never dictated its foreign policy; rather, its interests have dictated its ideological stance. When countering China—America’s foremost geopolitical rival—requires embracing Indian Prime Minister Modi, a leader accused of Hindu nationalist policies and minority discrimination, he is swiftly rebranded as a champion of “religious freedom, tolerance, and diversity.” As historian E.H. Carr argued, idealist doctrines are not universal truths but moral justifications crafted by the powerful to legitimize and perpetuate their national interests.⁴  The illusion of a world united by shared ideals was never a reality—it was a construct maintained as long as it benefited those who upheld it. And, like all constructs, it collapsed when the forces that sustained it started to loosen. 

Europe’s Challenge in the Awakened Reality 

Describing the post-2016 international order as a “new reality” following Trump’s first presidency is misleading. Idealism has always been a narrative conveniently rewritten by Washington whenever necessary to suit its interests. Trump did not create this realpolitik world order; he merely accelerated its emergence by capitalizing on pre-existing trends. As early as 2000, he argued that “conflicts in Europe are not worth American lives. Pulling back from Europe would save this country millions of dollars annually.” Whether or not Europe and NATO act as a buffer against Moscow for America, Trump reduces national interests to a cost-benefit analysis measured in pure dollars and cents. And as revealed in Biden’s withdrawal from Afghanistan demonstrated, this strategic shift is not one that can be shaken off after Trump’s second presidency and continues regardless of who is in power.

Yet, Europe has been slow to adapt. After the Cold War, its leaders indulged in the illusion that “the world has become less dangerous,” as President Emmanuel Macron observed. This complacency led to extensive military disarmament. Germany and France vetoed Ukraine’s NATO bid at the 2008 Bucharest Summit, believing appeasement could substitute for deterrence against Russia. Three years of brutal war have forced Ukraine to pay the price for Europe’s strategic inertia. And yet, Europe’s response remains inadequate. The NATO Steadfast Defender exercise this year, intended to showcase European military readiness, mobilized a mere 10,000 ground troops and 12 aircraft. The continent still clings to the illusion that it has time, staging military pageants while leaving its forces unprepared for war. While Ukraine fights for survival, Europe continues to bask in the dangerous fantasy that American protection will endure.

Conclusion: Power Maximization 

Ultimately, Europe must confront the hard reality of power maximization—an idea dismissed as outdated but now more relevant than ever. With the U.S. increasingly reluctant to confront aggressive autocracies abroad and the idealist vision that once shielded Europe now stripped bare, the continent faces an undeniable truth: it must adapt to an international system governed by leverage and hard power. The only true safeguard against rogue states is the ability to maximize power to deter aggression before it arrives. As Winston Churchill warned, “the maintenance of peace depends upon the accumulation of deterrents against the aggressor.” Eighty years later, his proposition remains as valid as ever. Russia is once again testing Europe’s resolve to defend regional security, just like it did at Yalta. Instead of chasing an elusive peace, Europe must prove it can shoulder the burden of being the last line of collective security. This requires more than rhetoric. As Carr stated, “The ultima [sic] ratio of power in international relations is war.”⁵ Ukraine has shattered the illusion that total war—fought by digging trenches and mobilizing mass troops—is a relic of the past. If Europe wishes to preserve peace, it must prepare for war. This means launching large-scale military initiatives, increasing defense budgets, and conducting joint military exercises that ensure rapid mobilization in the face of crisis. Industrial capacity must be enhanced by subsidizing the defense industry and stockpiling crucial components to enable rapid expansion or replacement of weaponry losses in wartime. Europe’s nuclear powers—France and the United Kingdom—must clearly define when, how, and for whom nuclear deterrents apply. But above all, Europe needs a new era of decisive leadership capable of forging a stronger, more resilient security framework. The power vacuum left by America’s retreat from global leadership will not remain empty for long. The time of illusion is over. Europe must awaken from the ruins of its idealism before it is too late.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: “Yalta Conference 1945 Churchill, Stalin, Roosevelt,” Image source from Picryl | CC License, no changes made

1. Neville Chamberlain to the House of Commons, October 5, 1938. ↩︎
2. Senarclens, Pierre de. From Yalta to the Iron Curtain: The Great Powers and the Origins of the Cold War. Translated by Amanda Pingree. Oxford: Berg, 1995, 10. ↩︎
3. Senarclens, 17. ↩︎
4. Carr, E. H. The Twenty Years’ Crisis, 1919-1939: An Introduction to the Study of International Relations. London: Macmillan, 1939, 70. ↩︎
5. Carr, 141. ↩︎

Saudi Arabia is emerging as one of the most consequential actors in the Middle East, redefining its role through a carefully calibrated foreign policy that balances regional leadership aspirations with global economic and diplomatic engagements. Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman (MBS), the designated successor to the King, is steering the Kingdom toward greater geopolitical autonomy, leveraging its vast economic resources, strategic partnerships, and mediation efforts to expand its influence. However, Saudi Arabia faces challenges, particularly regarding its stance on Israel, its evolving relationships with the United States and China, and its role in shaping post-conflict regional dynamics. This analysis examines Saudi Arabia’s shifting influence in the Middle East as it fills the power vacuum left by the declining influence of Iran and Russia.

Saudi Arabia’s diplomatic strategy is defined by a mix of calculated pragmatism and bold initiatives. A prime example of this is its cautious approach to normalizing relations with Israel. While the Kingdom has signaled openness to normalization, it has repeatedly reaffirmed that any agreement must be contingent on the establishment of a Palestinian state with East Jerusalem as its capital. This stance aligns more with the Arab Peace Initiative than the Abraham Accords- that do not list the creation of a Palestinian state as a precondition. The Arab Peace Initiative, adopted unanimously by 23 Arab states in 2002 and confirmed by the Arab Summit earlier this year, reversed the traditional negative Arab position toward peace with Israel and offered a comprehensive peace plan for ending the Arab Israeli conflict. The continued strikes in Gaza have further complicated the process, making it politically untenable for Riyadh to pursue normalization without substantial Israeli concessions. Saudi media has aggressively criticized Netanyahu, reflecting broader frustrations with his policy and its impact on regional stability. Simultaneously, Saudi Arabia is spearheading an alternative Arab plan to counter American-Israeli proposals for Palestinian displacement. This initiative, which focuses on rebuilding Gaza with Gulf funding while sidelining Hamas from governance, underscores the Kingdom’s determination to shape the postwar order on its own terms, highlighting its ability to balance U.S. expectations with Arab consensus, reinforcing its leadership within the region.

Saudi Arabia’s relationship with the United States remains central to its foreign policy, yet the Kingdom has adopted a more independent approach, continuing to pursue a policy of “active neutrality” in global affairs, beyond the Middle East. It has condemned Russia’s invasion of Ukraine at the UN but has refrained from joining Western-led sanctions against the Kremlin, allowing it to maintain strategic flexibility and preserve economic and security ties with both the U.S. and Russia. In 2023, Saudi Arabia hosted a major international peace summit on Ukraine, demonstrating its ambitions as a global diplomatic power. Even though Russia dismissed the summit, Saudi Arabia’s involvement in prisoner exchanges and backchannel diplomacy underscored its growing influence beyond the Middle East. Similarly, despite being a key U.S. ally, Saudi officials have emphasized the importance of their relationship with China, describing it as complementary to their alliance with Washington. Hence, Saudi Arabia remains indispensable to both Western and Eastern powers.

Saudi Arabia remains one of the world’s largest arms importers, historically reliant on U.S. and European suppliers for advanced weaponry. However, in recent years, it has diversified its defense partnerships, expanding military cooperation with China, including—areported joint production of drones and ballistic missiles. Additionally, Saudi Arabia has conducted naval exercises with the Chinese navy, signaling its intent to hedge against shifting U.S. commitments in the region. Despite this diversification, the United States remains Saudi Arabia’s primary security guarantor. Ongoing negotiations for a formal U.S.-Saudi defense treaty reflect the recognition that neither China nor Russia can fully replace American military support. However, Saudi leaders are leveraging their growing relationships with Beijing and Moscow to extract greater security guarantees from the U.S., including technology transfers and assistance in developing a domestic defense industry. 

Saudi Arabia’s military posture is undergoing a transformation, shifting from direct interventionism—exemplified by its involvement in Yemen—to a more calculated security strategy focused on regional stability and diplomatic engagement. Having significantly reduced its military operations in Yemen, the Kingdom is pursuing a negotiated settlement with the Houthis, who reject the Saudi-backed government,  while simultaneously reinforcing its defense capabilities against potential threats. Moreover, Saudi Arabia’s reassessment of its relationship with Iran once again reflects its broader shift toward diplomacy over confrontation. The China-brokered détente in 2023 signaled a preference for regional stability over prolonged hostilities. While tensions persist—especially regarding Iran’s support for proxy groups—Saudi Arabia’s engagement with Iran highlights its commitment to preventing further destabilization in the Middle East, rekindling hopes for ending the Yemen conflict, where both countries have historically supported opposing factions. 

Under Vision 2030, Saudi Arabia has aggressively pursued economic diversification, reducing its dependence on oil while expanding investments in infrastructure, technology, and renewable energy. Non-oil sectors account for 52% of GDP, with a projected 6.2% increase by 2026, with Saudi Arabia aiming to position itself as a hub for green energy and advanced technology, aligning its economic ambitions with global trends. In pursuit of Vision 2030, the Kingdom has deepened cooperation with China, now its largest trading partner, in infrastructure, 5G technology, and renewable energy. The Sino-Arabian alignment plan integrates China’s Belt and Road Initiative with Vision 2030, facilitating joint investments in hydrogen energy, electric vehicles, and industrial projects. This shift signals Riyadh’s effort to diversify its partnerships and reduce exclusive reliance on Western economies. Simultaneously, Saudi Arabia wields strategic influence over global energy markets through OPEC+, which it co-founded, working closely with Russia to manage oil production and pricing. Despite U.S. pressure to increase production following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the Kingdom instead coordinated production cuts that favored Moscow, underscoring its prioritization of economic self-interest over Western expectations. This stance is further reflected in its overtures toward joining BRICS—an increasingly potent counterbalance to U.S. influence—as well as its hosting of a meeting between Russia and Ukraine, a significant development after Zelensky’s meeting with Trump. This move underscores Saudi Arabia’s growing confidence in charting an independent economic and foreign policy.

At the regional level, Saudi Arabia has all the qualifications to be a powerhouse—34 million inhabitants, a stable political system, a booming economy, and one of the world’s largest oil reserves. Its past isolationism and extremist Wahhabi social order are largely relics of the past, replaced by a rapid modernization drive that began a few years ago, with tangible change unfolding daily. Leveraging its economic strength and strategic partnerships, Saudi Arabia is reshaping the regional order. By balancing ties with the U.S., China, and Russia, while spearheading regional economic transformations and redefining security strategy, Saudi Arabia is positioning itself at the center of an emerging multipolar order. This new order is defined by fluid alliances and pragmatic diplomacy, moving beyond the past dynamics of U.S. hegemony and Iran-Saudi rivalry, with Saudi Arabia standing at the forefront.As things stand, the war in Gaza remains a determining factor in shaping the Middle East, and Saudi Arabia’s role in normalizing relations between Israel and the Arab world will be pivotal. As regional power structures shift following the decline of both Russia and Iran, a power vacuum has emerged—one that Saudi Arabia is poised to fill. The Kingdom’s support for the two-state solution, tying diplomatic normalization with Israel to the creation of an independent Palestinian state, places it in a unique position of leadership. Saudi Arabia’s potential to broker a peace agreement that reflects broader Arab consensus and upholds Palestinian self-determination could set a new precedent for regional cooperation in the Middle East, countering the status quo.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: “Saudi Arabia said Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman conveyed the kingdom’s stance in ‘a clear and explicit manner’ without room for interpretation,” Image source from Free Malaysia Today | CC License, no changes made

Russia’s historical engagement in the Middle East is entrenched in religious, cultural, and geopolitical considerations. From its protracted wars against the Ottoman Empire to the Soviet Union’s extensive Cold War-era involvement in the Arab world, Russia  has consistently sought to shape the region’s security and economic landscape, seeking the warm water ports of the Mediterranean. In recent years, President Vladimir Putin has reinvigorated Russia’s presence in the Middle East, leveraging arms sales, energy cooperation, and military interventions to counterbalance Western influence. However, the war in Ukraine, the economic fallout from Western sanctions, and shifting regional dynamics have weakened its standing. This analysis examines Russia’s evolving role by assessing its trade and investments, arms exports, military deployment, and diplomatic activity in the Middle East.

Russia has positioned itself as a key player in the region, with a long-standing presence in Tartous, Syria. Its influence increased during the Nasser era and continued until after the Six-Day War in 1967, marking a significant period of Russian military involvement in the region. Over the past decade, Russia’s 2015 military intervention in Syria, which decisively bolstered the Assad regime against opposition forces during the civil war, was a defining moment, securing Moscow’s foothold in the Levant. Beyond Syria, Russia expanded its economic and strategic ties with Iran—primarily through arms sales and sanctions evasion—while fostering energy cooperation with Saudi Arabia and economic interdependence with Turkey through trade. Its ability to navigate relationships with opposing factions—such as Iran and Israel or Saudi Arabia and Qatar—exemplified its diplomatic flexibility that allowed Russia to maintain a balancing act that allowed it to exert influence while avoiding direct confrontation. One of Russia’s most significant regional engagements has been through OPEC+, the group of oil-producing countries, where its partnership with Saudi Arabia played a pivotal role in global energy markets. Energy cooperation allowed Russia to circumvent sanctions, while growing arms sales bolstered its defense industry. Meanwhile, the Wagner Group’s (state-funded, paramilitary organization) operations in North Africa extended Moscow’s influence through proxy engagements, reinforcing its military reach. In Lebanon, when the major powers appointed consuls to “protect” various sects, Russia’s consul took on the responsibility of protecting the Greek Orthodox community.

Yet, unlike the Soviet Union, Russia never sought outright hegemony in the Middle East; instead, it pursued pragmatic engagement aimed at counterbalancing U.S. dominance while safeguarding economic and military interests. This strategy proved effective until the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, which triggered a cascade of destabilizing consequences that undermined Russia’s regional stature.

The war in Ukraine has drained Russia’s military and economic resources, diverting attention from its Middle Eastern ambitions. Western sanctions have curtailed- although not to the extent Europe had hoped- Russia’s ability to sustain arms exports, diminishing its economic leverage. Russia’s capacity to fulfill defense contracts with Egypt, Algeria, and Iran has been constrained, forcing these states to explore alternative suppliers, including China and Western nations, with this erosion of Russia’s reputation as a reliable arms supplier further weakening its strategic influence.

Historically, energy and defense contracts have served as the backbone of Russia’s engagement in the Middle East. While OPEC+ remains a crucial forum for Saudi-Russian cooperation, the balance of power within the alliance has shifted. Saudi Arabia, increasingly aligned with the U.S. on security matters, has assumed a more assertive role, diminishing Russia’s ability to shape global oil prices. Moreover, BRICS has re-emerged as a geopolitical force, with Russia leveraging its expansion to position the bloc as a counterweight to Western influence, shaping BRICS into a more anti-Western coalition, integrating authoritarian states and capitalizing on U.S. policy missteps. However, internal divergences within BRICS, especially between China, India, and Saudi Arabia, complicate its cohesion.

Widespread international condemnation of Russia’s Ukraine invasion has led to a breakdown in diplomatic relations with the West. The sanctions that have been imposed in response have also forced Russia to deepen economic ties with Iran, which has supplied drones and military aid for the Ukrainian war effort. However, this partnership is constrained by Iran’s own economic fragility. This dependence on Iranian drones and munitions marks a stark reversal of traditional roles—Russia, once a dominant arms supplier, now finds itself reliant on Iran for military supplies. Meanwhile, the UAE and Turkey have facilitated Russian financial transactions to circumvent sanctions, yet the long-term viability of these arrangements remains uncertain, as Gulf states remain cautious about fully aligning with an internationally isolated Russia.

Despite the collapse of the Assad regime in December 2024, Russia has maintained a military presence in Syria, leveraging its bases in Tartus and Hmeimim to project power in the Eastern Mediterranean. This was achieved through agreements with Syria’s new government, which, facing economic hardship and regional isolation, sought security guarantees, economic aid, and leverage in negotiations for sanctions relief. By allowing Russia to retain its military infrastructure while distancing itself from Iran, the new leadership aimed to balance foreign influence and prevent overreliance on any single power. Russia has further entrenched itself within Syria’s defense establishment by overseeing military restructuring, integrating Russian-trained officers, and counteracting Turkish influence. However, with the redeployment of Russian forces to Ukraine, its ability to conduct large-scale military operations in the Middle East has waned.

Simultaneously, Israel has become increasingly assertive in Syria, invading it and conducting frequent airstrikes on Iranian and Russian-linked targets. Russia, once a critical mediator between Israel and Iran, now finds itself increasingly sidelined. Its efforts to balance support for Palestine while maintaining cooperative ties with Israel—partially to deter Israeli arms supplies to Ukraine—have further complicated its regional standing. As Iran expands its footprint in Syria, Russia’s influence continues to weaken.

While Russia’s relationships with Saudi Arabia and the UAE remain intact, they have become increasingly transactional. Gulf states, once skeptical of U.S. commitments, are now deepening their defense ties with it, diminishing their reliance on Russia. Even Turkey, a crucial intermediary for Russia, has strategically balanced its engagements with both the West and Russia, avoiding full alignment with the Kremlin. 

Russia’s mercenary presence, primarily through the Wagner Group, has been destabilized following the death of its leader, Yevgeny Prigozhin. This has revealed Russia’s weakening control over its forces in Libya and Sudan, leading the UAE and Gulf states to recalibrate their engagements with Russia. Taking advantage of North African dissatisfaction with Western policies, Russia has sought to expand its influence, particularly through arms sales and energy deals. Algeria, a key partner, has deepened military cooperation with Russia, including arms sales and joint defense exercises, while balancing these ties with its broader foreign policy goals. Although neutral in global conflicts, Algeria seeks to maintain economic relations with the EU and a strategic partnership with the U.S. for counterterrorism and regional stability. Meanwhile, in Libya, Russia supports General Haftar’s Libyan National Army (LNA) through military aid and political backing to secure oil and strategic ports, contrasting the U.S.’s diplomatic approach in supporting the Government of National Unity. Although Russia has made inroads with these nations, its efforts are constrained by regional rivalries and competition from other powers. Russia’s drained resources have weakened its position in the Maghreb, leaving space for other global players like China. 

Russia’s trajectory in the Middle East over the past decade reflects an initial phase of strategic expansion followed by a period of decline precipitated by the war in Ukraine and regional conflicts. While Russia successfully entrenched itself through military interventions, energy partnerships, and arms sales, the geopolitical and economic ramifications of its invasion of Ukraine have severely constrained its regional influence. Sanctions, declining military capabilities, and shifting alliances have left Russia increasingly marginalized. Although it retains a presence in Syria and maintains economic partnerships with Iran, Saudi Arabia, and the UAE, its role in the region is increasingly defined by limitations rather than ambitions. We are likely to witness a determined  Russian effort to reclaim some of the influence it has lost over time, refusing to accept a diminished role in the region. This drive to reassert itself will likely contribute to the ongoing instability, as Russia’s actions in seeking to regain its influence may exacerbate existing tensions and complexities in the region.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: “Planes Releasing Russian Flag Colours Over the Red Square in Moscow, Russia,” Image source from Pexels | CC License, no changes made

General Introduction

Recent events in the Middle East are reshaping the region’s geopolitical landscape, signaling a departure from long-standing alignments and ushering in a multipolar recalibration of influence. As Iran and Russia grapple with economic strain, diplomatic isolation, and strategic miscalculations, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and the United States are reasserting their roles as dominant players, forging new partnerships, redefining security frameworks, and raising the question: to what extent? These developments mark a significant moment in Middle Eastern affairs, one that reflects broader global trends in multipolar competition, energy realignment, and regional autonomy. 

This transformation cannot be understood in isolation; rather, it emerges from a confluence of patterns, economic pressures, and shifting ideological currents. This article series will explore the roles of these key players in shaping the future of the region. To assess their influence, four variables will be taken into consideration: trade and investments, arms exports, military deployment, and diplomatic activity.

The Decline of Iran’s Regional Hegemony

Iran has long positioned itself as a key player in the Middle East, exerting influence through a combination of military intervention, proxy networks, and ideological expansionism. However, the fall of Bashar al-Assad’s government in Syria in December 2024 and Tehran’s subsequent retreat from the Levant mark a significant turning point in Iran’s regional strategy. While Iranian policymakers may frame this withdrawal as a calculated realignment, the reality is likely more troubling for Iran: its decade-long investment in Syria has crumbled, its proxies are under increasing strain, and its geopolitical standing is deteriorating in the face of coordinated countermeasures from the United States and Israel, and regional adversaries like Saudi Arabia and Turkey. This section examines the key dimensions of Iran’s strategic decline, analyzing its military setbacks, proxy vulnerabilities, economic constraints, and shifting diplomatic landscape.

Iran’s involvement in Syria has long been a cornerstone of its regional strategy. Since the onset of the Syrian Civil War, Iran invested an estimated $30-50 billion in supporting Assad’s regime, embedding itself within Syrian military structures like the National Defense Forces, the 4th Armored Division, and the Republican Guard. When the anti-Assad revolution broke out in 2011, the Assad regime was about to be toppled in 2012-2013 but was saved by direct Hezbollah intervention. These investments allowed Iran to turn Syria into a logistical hub for weapon transfers to Hezbollah and other militant groups, strengthening its presence on Israel’s northern border and expanding its “Axis of Resistance.” However, this strategy was severely undermined with Assad’s downfall and the collapse of vital strategic assets, such as the Qa’im-Bukamal border crossing between Syria and Iraq, which weakened Iran’s ability to maintain its arms supply network. 

Internally, Iran’s economic situation has continued to deteriorate, primarily due to international sanctions targeting its nuclear program, regional influence, and support for groups designated as terrorists, alongside domestic mismanagement. These sanctions have curtailed Iran’s ability to fund its regional operations, leading to limited funding resources for proxy groups and limiting its ability to reinvest in other areas, such as Iraq and Yemen, where it focuses its remaining efforts. Iran’s arms exports, a central component of its regional strategy, are severely restricted due to Israeli airstrikes on Iranian assets, U.S. interdictions, and the loss of strategic bases in Syria, significantly impairing its military capabilities. 

Iran’s reliance on proxy forces has been central to its asymmetric warfare strategy, but financial constraints and increased military opposition have placed growing pressure on these groups. Hezbollah, Hamas, and Houthi militias are all under strain. Hezbollah’s political influence in Lebanon is waning, with the Israeli assassination of Nasrallah (Secretary General of Hezbollah)  and with the election of a new president backed by Saudi Arabia and the U.S.. In Gaza and Yemen, Iranian-backed groups have faced heavy losses due to Israeli airstrikes and Saudi-led countermeasures, further weakening Iran’s regional power projection. The rapid offensive that led to Assad’s downfall shattered Iran’s long-term strategy. Unlike earlier crises- such as the pivotal battle for Aleppo in 2016, where Iran, along with Russian support, successfully helped the Assad regime recapture the city from rebel forces during the civil war- Iran was unable to mobilize reinforcements, especially when Iraqi authorities blocked Iran-backed militias. Additionally, Israeli airstrikes targeted key Iranian military commanders – including Ismail Haniyeh, the political leader of Hamas- further eroded Iran’s command structure and exposed the limits of its ability to defend its allies in the region. Moreover, the growing alignment between Hamas and countries like Qatar and Turkey has reduced Tehran’s role in Gaza, leaving its once-dominant position in the region more fragile.

Iran’s military deployment in the region has shifted significantly, with its forces in Syria, led by the IRGC’s Quds Force (a covert branch of Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps), playing a key role in defending Assad’s regime. Iran is now refocusing its military efforts on Iraq and Yemen, strengthening ties with the Popular Mobilization Forces (PMF) in Iraq to bolster its influence ahead of the 2025 elections, sway electoral outcomes, and maintain regional dominance. In Yemen, Iran may increase support for the Houthis to maintain leverage over the Bab el-Mandeb Strait, a crucial maritime choke point. However, both Iraq and Yemen pose challenges for Iran. In Iraq, nationalist sentiment and political opposition from Sunni and Kurdish populations are limiting Iran’s influence, viewing the PMF as a threat to Iraq’s sovereignty and fear the country could become a client state of Iran. In Yemen, Saudi-led countermeasures, including airstrikes, naval blockades, support for Yemeni government forces, ground operations, and more, are containing Houthi operations.

Diplomatically, Iran faces significant setbacks as its relationships with regional powers become increasingly strained. Despite a temporary rapprochement with Saudi Arabia in 2023, facilitated by China, the broader regional environment remains unfavorable for Tehran, as Gulf states continue to align with the U.S. on security issues, further isolating Iran. The growing engagement between Gulf states and Israel further diminishes Iran’s diplomatic standing, making it harder to rally opposition against Israel. While Iran has attempted to deepen its ties with Russia and China, but these relationships have limits. Russia has provided some military cooperation, but remains cautious in its support due to its own strategic priorities, and China, focused on economic stability, is unlikely to confront the U.S. on Iran’s behalf, leaving it struggling to maintain influence in the region.

Iran’s strategic decline in the Middle East marks a profound shift in the region’s balance of power. The fall of Bashar al-Assad’s regime in Syria, coupled with the retreat of Iranian influence, has exposed the fragility of Tehran’s regional ambitions. Its once-dominant position, bolstered by military interventions, has been undermined by a combination of economic constraints, military setbacks, and regional opposition. With its ability to fund and support its proxy groups waning, Iran’s increasing influence in Iraq and Yemen is greatly challenged. Diplomatically, Iran’s regional isolation deepens as Gulf states align with the U.S. and engage with Israel, while its partnerships with Russia and China remain limited. As Iran retreats from the Levant, the Middle East enters a new era, one where the power dynamics are shifting, and players like Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and Israel are asserting themselves more prominently, signaling a changing balance of power that could redefine the region’s future.

​​This situation contains the seeds of future conflict. Will resistance be renewed to liberate the Syrian and Lebanese lands newly occupied by Israel, or will the new dominant powers find a solution before this happens? Will Iran mobilize its forces again to spread its regional influence, perhaps to protect its nuclear program from Israeli destruction, or will a new nuclear agreement and entente between the US and Iran defuse the situation? As long as no long-term solutions are found for the Middle Eastern problems, including a fair solution to the Palestinian question, and as Iran’s regional influence continues to wane, a new order is emerging—one that will be defined by shifting alliances and evolving power dynamics.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: “Iran Flag from Taleghani Park” by David Sandoz, Image sourced from Flickr | CC License, no changes made

In season 9 episode 14 of South Park, “It’s a Jersey Thing” the people of the United States, particularly the town of South Park, face an existential threat: Jerseyites are invading their city. Desperate for salvation, Randy calls upon an unlikely ally—Al-Qaeda and Osama bin Laden—who ultimately save the town through suicide bombing. The episode plays on the principle that “the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” satirizing how existential crises can forge improbable alliances between sworn adversaries. Much like in the surreal alliances of South Park, the recent Oval Office confrontation between Trump and Zelesnky reveals a real-life echo of that absurdity—a political stage where traditional loyalties disintegrate and opportunism reigns. Instead of coming together against a common threat, the disastrous meeting was a transformation of ally into adversary, precisely when that ally faces its greatest peril. Just as South Park satirizes unexpected solidarity in crisis, the Trump-Zelensky exchange demonstrates its perverse opposite: abandonment disguised as peacemaking.

A historically unprecedented moment, the language used throughout the berating of the Ukrainian president by both President Trump and JD Vance clearly works to establish two dynamics: they are peace-loving humanists, Zelensky is a villainous murderer who wants nothing more than to continue filling his pockets while the youth of his nation bleeds out. Albert Camus’ seminal work The Rebel (1951), written in the shadow of World War II and rising totalitarianism, provides an insightful framework for understanding Trump and Vance’s pseudo-humanist rhetoric. In the novel, Camus explores the development of revolution and rebellion, arguing that true rebellion is a principled refusal of oppression—it says “no” to injustice by recognizing moral limits and “yes” to the inherent value and dignity of human life. Rebellion as an act of defiance arises from a deep awareness of our own worth, uniting individuals in solidarity and ensuring that resistance against tyranny does not itself become oppressive. Trump and Vance have hollowly appropriated Camus’s language of rebellion, twisting the defense of a dignified existence into a political tool. 

Trump’s False Rebellion

By co-opting the Camusian language of peace, humanism, and concern for the lives of everyday people, Trump tries to transform Ukraine from a victim of an unprovoked invasion to a hindrance that must be overcome for the sake of peace. In a sense, Trump and his administration position themselves as rebels against the Biden administration’s approach to the conflict—a false rebellion that claims moral superiority while lacking genuine solidarity with the oppressed. This performance of rebellion against the foreign policy “establishment” allows Trump to present himself as aligned with “the defense of a dignity common to all men” while actually undermining the very principles of dignity Camus championed.¹ 

The language from the meeting demonstrates this. For example, at the very beginning of the confrontation, JD Vance proclaims Trump’s policy as “the kind of diplomacy that is going to save” Ukraine. While outlining a policy of appeasing the aggressor and succumbing to the exact outcome Russia desires, Vance frames his approach as paternalistic, telling Zelensky how Ukraine will be saved if it gives up. This narrative is particularly ironic coming from a man who only a couple years ago said “I gotta be honest with you, I don’t really care what happens to Ukraine one way or another.”

Trump reinforced Vance’s positioning of false humanism and concern stating,“You’re gambling with the lives of millions of people,” in response to Zelensky’s comment on the effects the war has had on the United States. Through these words, Trump invokes Camus’ idea of true generosity—”real generosity toward the future lies in giving all to the present.”² However, his interpretation twists its original intent. For Camus, giving all to the present meant securing a better, freer future in which rebellions are fought for dignity and against tyranny.³ In contrast, Trump’s version of “giving all” is withholding aid and forcing Ukraine into submission, ensuring not a future of self-determination but one dictated by his own political interests. In this world of manufactured real-politik, peacekeeping takes the form of coercion, presented as benevolence. 

Trump’s Rationale and Moral Camouflage 

Trump uses the distorted rhetoric of humanism as both a shield and a weapon in the geopolitical arena. What makes this inversion of the Camusian argument of rebellion so particularly beneficial to Trump is its perceived agreeableness. The rhetoric used by Trump and Vance creates a moral camouflage that positions the administration as a voice of sensible restraint. Their political calculation in this scenario is quite simple: for Trump, who lacks a concrete plan of resolving the conflict, it is easier to break David into submission than to confront Goliath. The problem with this rebellion is that it is only directed by the desire for Trump to force his version of history forward, and as Camus argued “rebellion with no other limits but historical expediency signifies unlimited slavery.”⁴ He does not recognize his own limitations and the complications of the ongoing war, believing that by destroying Zelensky’s support and his perceived identity as a global defender of democracy and liberalism. Trump can achieve this vision of fulfilling a historical need where he acts as the peaceful dealmaker. 

This camouflage allows Trump to create what he sees as a winning political situation for himself regardless of outcome in the negotiations with Ukraine. If Zelensky surrenders Ukrainian sovereignty and dignity to Trump and Putin, Trump emerges as a dealmaker who has resolved a global crisis. If Ukraine pivots away from the US and relies on European allies, Trump forces Europe to fund its own security, while also saving a dime for the American taxpayer money. Finally, if Ukraine crumbles under Russia, then Trump was right about Zelensky all along. The Ukrainian president is a corrupt and unjust ruler who was only extending the conflict—one whose demise should be celebrated. 

The problem with this reasoning is Trump’s oversimplified view of the war. He presents himself as a strategic dealmaker but mischaracterizes the war as a business negotiation rather than a historic geopolitical struggle. The presidential administration entirely overlooks the origins of the invasion and neglects the nature of Russian aggression. In doing so, Trump advances Putin’s vision of a Russian sphere of influence, where neighboring states exist only at Moscow’s mercy. This reasoning has already manifested into material form: days after the Oval Office confrontation, the White House confirmed a pause in military aid to Ukraine until its leaders “demonstrate a good-faith commitment to peace”—a euphemism for capitulation. By halting weapons already in transit while using the language of peace-seeking, Trump completes his rhetorical strategy—transforming actual support into conditional leverage. The irony is grotesque—punishing a nation facing an unprovoked invasion from its significantly larger and historically aggressive neighbor, while framing it as humanism. 

Yet, to Trump, his false rebellion from the Biden administration and the overall bipartisan commitment to Russian containment is more important than the actual geopolitical reality. Trump has built his political identity on rebelling against the establishment. As a result, his rationale in this situation is dictated by doing the opposite of what Biden was doing, no matter its implications for Ukraine. This rationale is further reinforced by a pure disdain for Zelensky, originating from Trump’s first impeachment trial, and a fondness for Putin, the origins of which are not fully clear. 

Ukraine as Homo Sacer

Trump’s perversion of humanism and Camusian rebellion has a profound impact on Ukraine—actively stripping its people of their agency and reducing them to what Italian philosopher Giorgio Agamben calls Homo Sacer. Homo Sacer represents a legal and existential condition through which an individual or group is reduced to a life-form that can be killed without it being considered murder, yet cannot be sacrificed in a ritualistic sense.⁵ In the context of Ukraine, Trump’s rhetoric performs a crucial transformation: rendering Ukrainian lives as Homo Sacer within the global political landscape. 

By framing Ukraine as an economic burden, a trigger for global conflict, and an unreasonable actor prolonging the war, Trump’s pseudo-humanist political discourse creates a space where Ukrainian suffering becomes acceptable, or, potentially, even desirable. The Ukrainian people become expendable as a result, allowing for Putin and Trump to operate in an environment of increased impunity. This subtraction of the human, due to oversimplification of historical dynamics and the commodification of negotiations, forces a total reconsideration of the United States as a reliable ally—not only for Ukraine but the broader world. By framing surrender as ‘peace,’ Trump’s false rebellion threatens the very ideal of solidarity Camus deemed essential to human dignity, and with it the commitment of the United States to worldwide security. 

Conclusion

Trump’s commodification of peace signals a profound betrayal of humanist ideals in modern America and the ultimate perversion of the Camusian act of rebellion as a resource to promote totalitarian governance. As a result, Ukraine and the West face a defining choice— uphold these ideals or allow them to be cynically exploited. This is not the first time Europe has faced such a dilemma. In 1944, as Nazi Germany spread terror across the continent, Camus wrote: “You speak of Europe, but the difference is that for you Europe is a property… you think in terms of potential soldiers, granaries, industries brought to heel, intelligence under control.”⁶ Trump’s approach to foreign policy is exactly that, one rooted in his misguided, ego-driven desire to commercialize existence. However, by refusing to let Ukraine be bartered away to Trump or subjected to the destruction of its dignity, Ukraine can try to resist from being reduced to a “historical term”—losing all semblance of relevance in the current. This resistance would take the form of a true Camusian rebellion, refusing the desire of others to treat the country as nothing more than an object.⁷ Europe can reinforce this resistance through tangible action—providing military aid and funding rather than continuing the cycle of endless summits and diplomatic formalities. 

Unlike in South Park, the material consequences of war do not end at the punchline—they endure in real suffering and global transformation. While the outcome of this resistance remains uncertain, abandoning Ukraine’s dignity would mean surrendering to the “unlimited slavery” Camus warns of. More importantly, Trump’s transformation of Ukraine into Agamben’s Homo Sacer would represent a shift in what dictates the sovereignty of a nation, a geopolitical strategy that profoundly threatens the fundamental principles of human dignity and national self-determination. If Zelensky and Ukraine yield under American pressure, which is likely, the nation will not only risk territorial loss but will also forfeit sovereignty in a new form. Ukraine will be reduced to political vassalage, economic subjugation, military dependence, and eternal entrapment in a narrative of captivity. These implications will also extend beyond Ukraine: Taiwan, the Baltics, Bosnia, Moldova and other frontiers of the marginality between democratic governance and totalitarian influence will face a new geopolitical calculus, one not shaped on shared values or international law but rather the expediency of a single administration. The era of national self-determination based on democratic principles will end, with the moral claim of nations to resist domination becoming negotiable currency in geopolitical transactions.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: “Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky (left) is harangued by US President Donald Trump in the Oval Office of the White House in Washington,” Image sourced from EPA Images | CC License, no changes made

1. Camus, Albert. The Rebel: An Essay on Man in Revolt. Translated by Anthony Bower, foreword by Sir Herbert Read, revised and complete edition, First Vintage International Edition, Vintage Books, 1991, 13. ↩︎
2. Camus, Albert. The Rebel, 151. ↩︎
3. Camus, Albert. The Rebel, 136. ↩︎
4. Camus, Albert. The Rebel, 146. ↩︎
5. Agamben, Giorgio. Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life. Translated by Daniel Heller-Roazen. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1998, 12. ↩︎
6. Jeffrey C. Isaac, quoting Albert Camus, “Letter to a Ukrainian Friend,” Democracy Seminar, March 1, 2025, https://democracyseminar.newschool.org/essays/letter-to-a-ukrainian-friend/. ↩︎
7. Camus, Albert. The Rebel, 124. ↩︎

Traditionally, liability frameworks have relied on well-established negligence and product liability principles, which struggle to accommodate the complexities of autonomous decision-making. Existing legal doctrines assume clear human oversight, yet AI systems operate with varying degrees of independence, making liability attribution ambiguous. The debate over whether an AI-driven system should be classified as  “products” or  “services” complicates the issue further, particularly as machine-learning algorithms evolve over time, rendering conventional liability rules inadequate. A comparative analysis of regulatory approaches in the United States, Europe, Japan, and China highlights key divergences in legal philosophy, risk tolerance, and enforcement strategies. Understanding these differences is essential for shaping future legal frameworks that balance technological progress with accountability.

A fundamental issue underlying AI liability is responsibility fragmentation. Unlike traditional tools that function under direct human control, AI-driven systems operate autonomously based on algorithmic decision-making. In product liability cases, manufacturers are generally held accountable for design flaws, but what happens when an AI system  “learns” harmful behavior over time? Some legal scholars advocate for strict liability on manufacturers, similar to pharmaceutical industry regulations, while others propose shared responsibility models that include software developers, operators, and even end-users. 

The challenges are particularly acute in military applications, where the concept of intent—critical in criminal law—becomes nearly impossible to attribute to an artificial system. The intent is fundamental to distinguishing lawful from unlawful actions in war.  Legal scholars such as Marta Bo, in Meaningful Human Control over Autonomous Weapon Systems: An (International) Criminal Law Account, examines how the absence of direct human intent complicates accountability for war crimes. The inability to assign intent to autonomous weapons presents a major challenge for international law, underscoring the necessity of new legal frameworks to ensure ethical oversight in autonomous warfare. 

Different jurisdictions have responded to these challenges in varying ways, shaped by their legal traditions, economic priorities, and ethical perspectives. Europe has taken the most proactive stance, leading discussions on legal personhood for AI, mandating transparency in decision-making, and enforcing stringent consumer protection measures. The European Parliament has explored the concept of “electronic personhood” to assign liability when human accountability is difficult to determine. This approach aims to close the “responsibility gap,” though critics argue that granting legal status to AI systems may obscure accountability rather than clarify it. The European Union’s regulatory model also emphasizes explainability. Under the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), AI-driven decisions impacting individuals must be transparent and interpretable. While this regulation primarily targets data privacy, it indirectly affects autonomous robotics, particularly in sectors like healthcare and finance, by ensuring that AI decision-making can be scrutinized legally. Furthermore, the EU’s proposed  Regulation on Artificial Intelligence introduces a risk-based classification for AI systems, imposing strict compliance requirements on high-risk applications, including autonomous robotics.

In contrast, the United States has taken a more reactive approach, relying on case law and existing liability doctrines. American legal frameworks still primarily treat AI-driven robotics as products, holding manufacturers liable for defects but often failing to account for evolving machine-learning models that evolve post-sale. The 2018 Uber self-driving car accident exemplifies this issue, as debates arose over whether responsibility lay with Uber, the vehicle manufacturer, or the AI system itself. This case highlighted the shortcomings of U.S. liability frameworks in addressing autonomous AI. While regulatory bodies such as the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) and the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) have begun exploring AI regulation, the U.S. remains largely dependent on sector-specific guidelines rather than comprehensive federal legislation.

Japan, known for its cultural acceptance of automation and robotics, has adopted a hybrid approach that prioritizes human oversight while promoting technological progress. In industries such as autonomous vehicles, Japanese law requires the continued presence of human “drivers” or operators who bear ultimate responsibility, even as automation increases. This reflects Japan’s broader approach to AI governance strategy, which integrates AI into society while maintaining strict human control over critical decisions.

Conversely, China has embraced AI and robotics with fewer regulatory constraints, prioritizing rapid technological advancement and economic growth. The Chinese government has made substantial investments in AI infrastructure, but its regulatory framework focuses primarily on state control, especially in surveillance and national security applications, raising ethical concerns. Unlike Japan, which promotes AI development with strong ethical oversight, China’s approach has facilitated widespread use of AI-driven mass surveillance, facial recognition, and predictive policing with minimal accountability. These applications present significant risks, including privacy violations and algorithmic biases that may reinforce social inequalities. As China continues expanding its AI capabilities, experts argue that stronger ethical safeguards and independent regulatory mechanisms are necessary to balance innovation with the protection of civil liberties.

Manufacturing environments further illustrate the complexity of liability allocation in autonomous robotics. Who is at fault if a robotic arm in an automotive factory malfunctions due to a software glitch and causes injury? For instance, in December 2023, a Tesla software engineer suffered serious injuries when a malfunctioning robot at the company’s Austin factory attacked him, digging its claws into his back and arm. Similarly, in November 2023, a South Korean worker was fatally crushed by an industrial robot that mistook him for a box of vegetables. These incidents highlight the challenges in determining fault when accidents involve complex interactions between human workers and autonomous systems. In traditional product liability, the manufacturer would be held accountable for a defective product, but if the malfunction stems from a third-party software update rather than a hardware flaw? Courts have struggled with such scenarios, often defaulting to negligence standards requiring proof of design, production, or maintenance failures. These challenges expose the inadequacy of current liability frameworks in addressing AI autonomy. As robots increasingly make independent decisions, the conventional approach of attributing fault to a single entity—whether the manufacturer or operator—becomes insufficient. This underscores the need for new legal models that accommodate evolving AI capabilities while ensuring clear accountability.

Liability concerns are even more pressing in military applications. Autonomous drones and robotic weapon systems operate in environments where split-second decisions determine mission success or humanitarian disaster. The 2020 incident in Libya, where an AI-driven drone allegedly engaged human targets autonomously, illustrates the ethical and legal dangers of allowing AI to make lethal decisions. Although international humanitarian law governs the use of weapons, existing frameworks struggle to assign responsibility, prompting proposals for hybrid liability models or the treatment of  AI as a legal entity. IHL principles like distinction, proportionality, and command responsibility remain difficult to enforce with autonomous systems, as they lack human intent and contextual judgment. International discussions, including the Campaign to Stop Killer Robots and debates within the Convention on Certain Conventional Weapons (CCW), highlight a growing consensus on the need for regulation, with proposals ranging from preemptive bans to soft law approaches. Given the rapid evolution of military AI, establishing global accountability standards is crucial to ensuring ethical warfare and preventing the unchecked deployment of autonomous weapons.

In response to growing concerns over the militarization of AI, several major technology companies have implemented self-regulation initiatives to ensure responsible AI development. Companies like Google, Microsoft, and OpenAI have committed to ethical AI policies prohibiting their technologies from being used for autonomous lethal weapons. Google’s AI Principles explicitly reject the development of AI for “weapons or other technologies whose principal purpose or implementation is to cause or directly facilitate injury to people.” Similarly, OpenAI has called for increased oversight and global cooperation to prevent the misuse of advanced AI in warfare. Industry-led initiatives, such as the Partnership on AI and Tech Accord for Responsible AI, seek to establish voluntary ethical guidelines for AI development, promoting transparency, accountability, and human oversight in AI-driven military applications. However, critics argue that self-regulation alone is insufficient, emphasizing the need for enforceable international laws to complement these voluntary commitments and ensure AI is developed in alignment with humanitarian principles.

As the debate over AI liability continues, several key issues must be addressed. First, legal systems must clearly define whether AI-driven systems should be treated as products or services. Many AI-driven robots rely on continuous software updates and real-time learning, making traditional product liability models insufficient. Legal frameworks must evolve to recognize this dynamic nature while ensuring accountability and consumer protection. 

Second, regulations must strike a balance between fostering innovation and safeguarding ethical and legal standards. Overregulation risks stifling technological progress in fields where AI-driven automation has transformative potential- such as healthcare, logistics, and environmental sustainability. However, insufficient oversight could lead to severe ethical and legal consequences, particularly in military applications where AI decision-making carries life-or-death implications.

Global cooperation is critical in establishing standardized liability norms for AI. Just as cybersecurity and data privacy require cross-border collaboration, AI regulation must also transcend national boundaries. Binding international agreements—akin to treaties governing nuclear and chemical weapons—could prevent the unchecked militarization of autonomous AI.  Intergovernmental organizations such as the United Nations, the OECD, and the G7 can play a central role in developing global AI safety and liability standards, ensuring that AI is deployed responsibly. Bilateral and multilateral agreements could align national AI policies and prevent regulatory loopholes that corporations might otherwise exploit. Furthermore, industry-led initiatives, including AI ethics councils and cross-border compliance frameworks, could further promote responsible AI governance. The integration of autonomous robots into society is inevitable, but without cohesive global policies, liability and accountability will remain unresolved. As AI systems assume greater autonomy and evolve, so must our legal framework, as the challenge is not merely to regulate them but to ensure that human oversight remains intact. To safeguard both innovation and accountability, governments must urgently develop new legal structures that reflect the dynamic nature of AI technologies. Adapting traditional liability models alone is not enough – they must also foster international cooperation to ensure that this development aligns with ethical standards and human rights. A robust international legal framework that balances innovation with responsibility is essential to prevent unforeseen risks and ensure that technological advancement serves the public good without compromising safety or morality.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: A Ghost Robotics Vision 60 Prototype Provides Security, Image sourced from Picryl | CC License, no changes made

In December, the YRIS Interviews and Events Team sat down for an interview with Fausto Belo Ximenes, a member of the 2024 Maurice R. Greenberg World Fellows Program. A human rights advocate and public policy practitioner, Ximenes was the Country Director for Timor-Leste with Oxfam International. He has worked with various grassroots and international organizations in Timor-Leste to promote inclusive economic development, human rights, climate justice, and civic participation.

The YRIS Interviews and Events Team discussed with Ximenes his journey into community advocacy, and his experience promoting transitional justice in one of the youngest independent nations in the world. Throughout our conversation, Ximenes shared with us his belief in a model of community justice is deeply rooted in both education, grassroots empowerment, and personal connection. In an age where dynamics of international development are sizeably shifting, Ximenes’ insights are incredibly powerful for anyone interested in global advocacy.

You can find the full interview to listen to above, or read selected quotes from our interview with Ximenes below. Note that all quotes have been edited for length and clarity.

Vittal Sivakumar: Could you introduce yourself, and tell us about your journey to your rule at Oxfam International?

Fausto Belo Ximenes:  Of course. My name is Fausto Belo Ximenes, and I am from Timor Leste. In case some of the listeners don’t know where it is, I=it is a small half island country located between Australia and Indonesia. Its political history includes 450 years of Portuguese colonization until 1975 and in 1975 it declared its independence for about two weeks, and after that, it was invaded by Indonesia, which led to the 24 years subsequent occupation by the Indonesian military. Timor Leste restored its independence in 2002.

I grew up under Indonesian military occupation. And growing up under occupation,  I witnessed a lot of human right violations, violence, discrimination, and exclusion. At some point in my youth, I had been a recipient of  international humanitarian assistance, and witnessed the work of international development workers. This exposure led me to think deeply about what I wanted to do when I grew up, and whenever Timor became peaceful and independent. 

I finished my early education in Timor under the Indonesian occupation, including after Timor became an independent country, during which I was still in high school.

 I moved to the United States to attend Stony Brook University on Long Island, where I studied International Relations and Comparative Politics. This later led me to do graduate studies in public policy at Oxford and in human rights practice at Roehampton University.

For the past 14 years, I have been doing exactly the kind of work I wanted to do while growing up under occupation. This includes  having worked with US government international development programs on access to justice, legal aid, rule of law, and democratic governance. 

Recently prior to coming to Yale, I was the Oxfam International Security Director in Timor. We worked on an array of topics and themes, including responding to the COVID-19 and flood crises, working with youth groups, and working with womens’ and girls’ groups to further their inclusion into the policy making process.

Abla Abdulkadir: How would you describe your philosophies regarding peace building and international development?

Fausto Belo Ximenes:

When you work in the international development and humanitarian aid sector, especially in countries where there are contexts of conflict or post-conflict, there are a number of things to think about. Consider, for example, that you work and lead an organization of about 4.050 staff. It is really important to understand what your own staff are going through. One main reason they are part of your team is for job security and to provide food to their families, but many of them also may be going through things that you haven’t seen. There can sometimes be a disconnect between leadership and their teams when you haven’t experienced violence or war in countries with contexts of conflict. This gap in experience can prevent people from being leaders that are sensible and conscious about what impacts team performance. Leadership is not just about indicators and results. As critical as they are, the people behind successes and performances are also incredibly important. When you are a leader of an organization, you want to deliver, make an impact, and understand the well-being of your own team that is contributing and creating these impacts. 

What does this idea mean with regards to community? International development organizations are shifting today, although maybe not at the ideal pace. There are more efforts now to make sure that local communities, local organizations, and grassroots groups are the leaders of change that they want to see in their communities. Traditionally, international development has been rooted in colonialism. Dynamics of international development have been framed as the Global North supporting so-called less developed and developing countries. So there has always been a sort of divergence in the perception of people living in countries supported by international development. As somebody who has led international organizations, we think deeply about how to challenge these perceptions.

Abla Abdulkadir: What are some of the biggest challenges and efforts in promoting climate action and gender equality within the cultural and political context of Timor Leste?

Fausto Belo Ximenes:

New countries definitely have their own challenges. Timor Leste is a small half-island country. Half-island because East Timor, or Timor Leste,  is a sovereign country. West Timor is part of Indonesia. Timor Leste has a population of 1.3 million people, about 70 – 75% percent of which are under the age of 35. 

If you’re familiar with the youth bulge, It basically just shows that a country’s population is predominantly young people. Timor Leste has one of the most youthful populations in Asia-Pacific region I believe, or only just behind Afghanistan and a few other countries, This youth bulge can turn into a dividend with strategic investments when there are jobs for youth, when they are being prepared properly to enter into the market, and to be able to contribute to society. So basically, the youth dividend is just another way of saying a blessing. But, there can also be the opposite scenario. If a country is not making adequate investment in its youth, and if there are very few job prospects, we cannot see this youth dividend. If the education system is poor, and the quality of education, the actual substance of what’s been taught in schools and universities has not been designed to actually reflect today’s societal needs, and give youth a competitive edge, you cannot see a youth dividend. and make your youth a competitive sort of like, you know, edge, then you cannot see a youth dividend. So youth bulge can translate into your dividend, and can be a blessing with the right investments, but it can also be a curse. So what happens when you don’t invest in young people? Young people are the other leaders that we have to put in all the effort to actually support, and prepare them to lead countries going forward. Especially in post conflict settings, where most of my professional work has taken place, there is that big risk of us not investing in youth, especially in countries as young as Timor-Leste.

Another critical challenge that the country faces is climate change. It’s beginning to impact communities more and more heavily. You see a greater number of climate related or climate induced disasters in Timor- Leste, and that is one, and I think most of the small island countries in the Pacific or in the Caribbeans or in other regions of the world are facing similar sort of challenges as well. It’s very important for these countries and territories, including Timor Leste, to have collective voices in the global discussions around climate change and the impact on their islands, communities, and livelihoods. Timor Leste is part of an association that is called Small Island Developing States, and it has been an advocate for global leaders to take into account the level of fragility and vulnerability that countries like Timor Leste and other small island countries and territories are facing. Small island developing countries, all of them combined, have contributed the least to climate change. 

As a leader, as global leaders, whether you’re an American President or a British Prime Minister or the Head of the EU, when we are talking about supporting communities that are affected by climate change, we need to know who are affected the most. Our solution has to be such that these individuals, these households, these groups, these countries, have their needs met, not only when a program is fully designed and delivered, but also during the process of developing programs. I know that there are now a couple of finance mechanisms to support these communities. So you have funding mechanisms like the Global Environment Facility, the Green Climate Fund, which have spoken about loss and damage funds, mostly proposed and advocated for strongly by small island developing nations. I think it’s very, very important that we know and understand, and put resources where they’re most needed. Because these communities, these countries, these islanders have had little to do with climate change, and that’s the reason why I said earlier that we can’t just talk about climate change. We have to talk about climate justice, and what talking about climate justice means.

Q: What advice do you have for young leaders who are looking to make a difference in the area of International Development?

International development is called international development because it’s most likely operating outside your own country. Say you’re from the States and you’re working in a developing country, and with actors that are diverse and systems and processes based on a global sort of systems and procedures that your organization has developed that apply to multiple different countries. Advice that I could provide to you and to all the listeners who are young and and interested in joining international development is it is an exciting area, and you get to really support communities that you wanted to support. You get to see the impacts. You get to engage, not only with the government. You engage with the communities. You engage with local leaders that oftentimes are like centers of powers that impact the work that we deliver. You also get to meet a lot of international people, bringing in different experiences and lives that enrich you and your team. So for me, of course, you see a lot of poverty, you see a lot of challenges, and you see a lot of suffering that people go through. Some are actually happening as you are in those countries. Some are just recovering, or barely recovering from those. So you see a lot of difficult situations, and you can’t have beautiful situations without also understanding and embracing difficult situations. You have to think about how you can contribute to improving those situations. So I would say that as young Yale College students, go out there and explore. Go out there and experience and experiment. And if it’s not for you, there’s always some other things that you could do, not necessarily international development, but there are always other work that you could be doing. But I would say, you know, the great thing about being young is time, right? You’ve got time, plenty of time on your hands. So that means, you know, exploring and testing. And see if that’s for you. For me, I started doing that before I went to college, and then I went back and kept doing that, and I’m still sticking to it, because it’s not just a job, as I said, it’s a conviction. It’s a personal and professional conviction that I would like to continue supporting communities and countries that are struggling in multiple ways through international development and humanitarian aid work.

Image courtesy of the Yale Jackson School of Global Affairs

In the second season of his hit TV show Servant of the People, President Vasyl Holoborodko—played by current Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky—finds himself in the process of securing a crucial loan agreement for Ukraine from the International Monetary Fund (IMF). As the deal nears completion, he is presented with a series of unofficial “additional clauses” that drastically alter the agreement’s terms. To receive the funding, Ukraine must begin large-scale shale gas extraction—devastating the country’s environment—curtail agricultural and wheat production, and designate the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone as a nuclear waste disposal site. The officials state that these conditions are non-negotiable, implying that Zelensky would profit significantly if they were to be accomplished. In a shock to the IMF representatives and the Ukrainian public who are unaware of the extraordinary demands, Holobrodko rejects the deal. 

Nine years later, Zelensky—having transformed from a fictional president into Ukraine’s actual leader—finds himself in a remarkably similar situation. This time, the foreign power is U.S. President Donald Trump, who, styling himself as a master dealmaker, has demanded Ukraine repay military and financial aid fivefold, primarily through the exploitation of its vast mineral resources, including lithium, titanium, and rare earth elements. This arrangement would effectively transfer significant control over these critical assets to U.S. interests. When Zelensky rejects the proposal, citing concerns over national sovereignty and the disproportionate repayment terms, Trump responds by publicly mischaracterizing Zelensky as a dictator and suggesting that Ukraine’s leadership is ungrateful for the support received.

The confrontation between the two leaders reveals a stark contrast in how two former entertainers-turned-presidents engage with political reality. For Zelensky, the war has forced a transition from media personality to wartime leader, where abstract political theater gives way to concrete matters of national survival. Trump, however, continues to treat the conflict as another episode in an ongoing reality show¹—a narrative to be rewritten, a deal to be negotiated, an image to be managed. Their clash illustrates how the boundaries between media spectacle and geopolitical reality have become increasingly blurred, even as actual lives hang in the balance.

The Media-Construction of Zelensky and Trump

In the current geopolitical environment, it is difficult to position Donald Trump and Volodymyr Zelensky as parallel contemporaries, yet both of them emerged through a similar political roadmap. Both Zelensky and Trump emerged from the world of show business and entertainment. The former crafted his public career through the first ever successful virtual political campaign, and one of the greatest of all time. This campaign intertwined a character shaped to perfectly fit the desired populist narrative with a candidate who promised change and a post-ideological, youthful freedom from the establishment that preceded him. In his campaign, Zelensky explicitly described his campaign strategy as a sort of “reality show.” The latter crafted an executive persona of efficiency and proficient deal-making on The Apprentice, even as his business ventures failed and his personal life was filled with strife and scandal. For both leaders, their media representations didn’t simply reflect their political ambitions; they preceded and shaped the very reality they would later inhabit, exemplifying what French thinker Jean Baudrillard called the “precession of simulacra,” where representations cease to reflect reality and instead create their own self-sustaining truth.² Their campaigns took advantage of what another French philosopher, Guy Debord, termed the “society of the spectacle,” – where the commodification of reality has allowed social relations to be mediated through images.³ However, the spectacle is not merely media imagery, but a totalizing social condition where lived experience is increasingly mediated by representations. In this society, meaning and reality itself can be shaped and bent to serve the narratives of the ruling elite. As a result, the two leaders operated in what Baudrillard calls the hyperreal world–a society in which the distinction between reality and simulation collapses. 

For Trump, his entrepreneur dealmaker persona manifested in promises to “drain the swamp” of Washington corruption and use “common sense” politics. For Zelensky, the vision of an honest and resourceful school teacher materialized into a platform of anti-corruption and youthful efficiency, focused on extensive online media communication. The Ukrainian president’s 2019 campaign emphasized unity over ideology, avoiding divisive issues in favor of a broad, populist appeal. Beyond campaign similarities, Zelensky’s initial approach to Putin was also not so far removed from Trump’s deal-making strategy—“unlike Poroshenko, Zelensky said that he would even be willing to sit down with Putin to bring a halt to the killing.”⁴ Moreover, for both Trump and Zelensky Debord’s spectacle was not only a campaign tool, but a governing strategy. Trump’s first term revolved around media sensationalism in which policy took a backseat, while Zelensky prioritized optics and a direct, media-savvy approach, throughout his early tenure. 

Even today, on a domestic level, Zelensky’s approach to reform has resemblances of modern Trumpism. Shortly after coming to power in 2019 Zelensky faced a problem, he could not make his right-hand man during the campaign, Andriy Bohdan, an official within the Ukrainian political scene. Due to the Ukrainian law on “lustration”, civil servants who worked under Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych for more than a year and did not resign of their own accord between 25 February 2010 and 22 February 2014 are not allowed to take public office. As a result, through a combination of a law from the Poroshenko administration and by renaming the President’s Administration to The Office of The President, the institutional body gained a sort-of semi-autonomy from democratic checks and balances. Over time, Andrii Yermak replaced Bohdan, and during the full-scale invasion he accumulated unprecedented power, with certain lawmakers calling him the “de facto head of state” and many allies expressing concern. Although established in war-time circumstances that arguably can be taken into consideration, Yermak’s operation as a Zelensky loyalist outside the scope of normally granted powers closely mirrors Trump’s approach to governance in his second-term, with personal loyalty and specific individuals superseding the systems established checks and balances.

Spectacle Meets Reality

While these similarities exist, Russia’s full-scale invasion and its implications is a critical divergence between the political journey’s of Zelensky and Trump that defines their current geopolitical conflict. After Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Zelensky—and the country as a whole—has been forced to reckon with a continuous existential threat that has shattered his ability to deny the notion of national categorization as an outdated universal. The confrontation with war stripped away Zelensky’s anti-establishment simulacra, thrusting him into the irreducible stakes of war. Zelensky’s leadership was forced to confront a reality his character President Holoborodko never anticipated—mass graves, bombed cities, war crimes. While Zelensky hasn’t abandoned the mechanisms of spectacle society– indeed, his masterful use of media and global diplomatic performance suggests an intensification of spectacle –the Russian invasion created a rupture in how this spectacle functions. For Ukrainians experiencing the war firsthand, the brutal materiality of the conflict cannot be reduced to mere representation or mediated experience as Debord describes in Society of the Spectacle. The existential stakes of invasion, resistance, and survival pierce through the totalizing nature of spectacle society.

This has forced Zelensky’s leadership into a unique position: while still operating within the realm of global media spectacle for diplomatic purposes, he must simultaneously address the undeniable material conditions of a nation at war. The luxury of treating all reality as mediated representation, a key feature of spectacle society, collapses in the face of immediate physical threat. This creates a hybrid form of leadership where spectacular elements remain but are grounded by concrete wartime imperatives that demand clear moral and tactical distinctions between aggressor and defender. However, this rupture in the spectacle is primarily contained within the sphere of the war itself. Beyond Ukraine’s borders, the conflict is still largely experienced through the mediating lens of spectacle that Debord identified, even as the material reality of the war strains against pure representation.

Trump, on the other hand, has continuously been able to maintain the simulacra of his persona and political identity, extending the hyperreality by being reelected for a new political term. As Slavoj Žižek describes it, Trump embodies a paradoxical form of postmodernism—while presenting himself as a defender of traditional values against postmodern permissiveness, his public performance exemplifies what Žižek calls “universalized irony and cynicism.” This self-relativizing stance allows Trump to maintain multiple contradictory positions simultaneously, maintaining his hyperreality by never fully committing to any single truth claim. His words always implicitly include a ‘don’t take it too seriously’ approach that undermines the very statements he’s making. This strategic self-relativization serves as both sword and shield: it allows Trump to make inflammatory statements while simultaneously maintaining plausible deniability, effectively immunizing himself against traditional forms of accountability by constantly destabilizing the very notion of sincere political discourse.

This strategy exemplifies post-truth politics, a condition in which objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion, personal belief, and spectacle. In the post-truth era, political reality is not evaluated by its factual accuracy but by how effectively it resonates within the media ecosystem. This reality reflects Debord’s analysis of the spectacle as a closed loop of self-referential representation—where images and narratives no longer reflect material reality but instead refer only to other images and narratives, sustaining a world of pure appearance. Trump’s political persona is not dependent on governance, diplomacy, or tangible results; it thrives within a recursive media ecosystem in which his authority is continually reaffirmed by its own representations. His approach to the war in Ukraine mirrors what Baudrillard analyzed during the Gulf War—a war measured not through its real on-the-ground devastation, but “by its speculative unfolding in an abstract, electronic and informational space.”⁵ This attitude from the U.S. President plays directly into the hands of the Kremlin. Their greatest geopolitical enemy only months ago is now actively supporting and regurgitating their own post-truth myths, contributing to the destabilization of Ukraine’s legitimacy as an independent state.

Zelensky’s Challenge

As Baudrillard’s historical insights suggest, Ukraine risks the war becoming nothing more than a media representation on the geopolitical stage, where its real danger and existential importance is manipulated by the narrative around it rather than its material consequences. Trump thrives in this constructed reality, where truth can be bent to his will. However, Zelensky, as both a media figure and a wartime leader, introduces a disruptive force—the materiality of war—that resists full absorption into Trump’s spectacle. On February 19th President Zelensky stated that Trump “lives in a disinformation space.” This simple acknowledgment of Trump’s disinformation dependency provoked an insecure response, momentarily exposing the fragility of Trump’s hyperreal ego. Zelensky’s challenge was a breaking of the reaffirmation of Trump’s own representations, an unwanted disruption in the media ecosystem that he so adamantly desires to control. This is why Trump’s response — calling Zelensky a dictator, and even stating that Ukraine should have come to the negotiations table long ago since they are the ones who started the war–was so volatile. The blatantly false rhetoric clearly demonstrates that to Trump this battle is not just a foreign policy disagreement, but an intrusion of reality into a self-controlled managed world of image. By saying out loud what everyone knows but does not say, Zelensky momentarily destabilized the spectacle, breaking Trump down from a self-created pedestal in which everyone is nothing more than merely his Apprentice.

The Battle Over Global Perception

In Zelensky’s TV show, after rejecting the foreign power’s demands, the Ukrainian public erupts in outrage forcing his character, Holoborodko, to quickly resign. In reality however, the Ukrainian people are far more united than authoritarian leaders of post-truth could ever understand. One of Trump’s greatest skills is his ability to shield himself from a reckoning with the real—best exemplified by his lack of consequences for numerous unlawful actions, both within and beyond the presidency. January 6th stands as the Polaris in this constellation of impunity. However, while Trump can shape perceptions at home, he cannot so easily manipulate the views of the global public, and most importantly, the Ukrainian people. Earlier this week, Trump claimed that Zelensky had a “4% approval rating” as a part of a fiery speech. While throwing unsubstantiated numbers like 4% support is a continuation of his commitment to the simulation of reality, it has thus far only increased the support for Zelensky domestically. Although Ukrainians may not be incredibly sound in domestic political organization, the country’s citizens nonetheless are prolific in rallying against a perceived external aggressor. 

Trump, while a master within the United States, has a foundational inability to understand populations that are not contained with his media bubble and do not fit his construct of reality. His pursuit of forcing a deal between Russia and Ukraine is an unprecedented test for his ability to export the hyperreality he has created beyond the bounds of the passive American consumer, to the geopolitical arena which has thus far interpreted the war as far more existential both for Ukraine and Europe as a whole. For Zelensky, the current reality is also a test — a challenge of how well he can utilize his media experience in a battle with another post-ideological figure.To an extent, the former-comedian is confronting his own past political identity taking to the absolute extreme of performative populism, while simultaneously facing an existential threat from the Russian military.

Conclusion: Hyperreality vs Reality

Zelensky’s confrontation with Trump is not only a political dispute but a collision of two different relationships with reality—one grounded in the material consequences of war, the other sustained by spectacle-driven hyperreality. The question is whether Trump’s hyperreality can maintain itself against something as materially significant as Ukraine’s battle against Russian aggression, and if its perception as an abstract narrative can be exported beyond his domestic support base. Unlike most passive consumers of American political spectacle, Ukraine’s allies—Poland, the Baltics, the UK—are confronting a tangible security threat that cannot be reduced to a media construct. This shift in geopolitical relations has opened a second front for Zelensky; he is not only battling a Russian invasion but also resisting the symbolic war of hyperreality waged by one of his country’s most powerful allies.

While post-truth politics has long been a weapon of the Kremlin, Trump’s attempt to impose this hyperreal logic onto the U.S. approach to Ukraine represents an unprecedented shift—not in the use of disinformation itself, but in its application by an American leader in the context of a war where the U.S. has historically positioned itself as the guarantor of reality against Russian manipulation. If Trump succeeds in exporting his spectacle-driven diplomacy onto the conflict, it would signal a transformation in how global power operates—not through material force alone, but through the control of perception itself. But if Ukraine’s struggle resists mediation, it may reaffirm that some events—despite the spectacle’s attempts—cannot be fully reduced to image and performance. In this sense, the war in Ukraine is not just a geopolitical struggle but a battle over whether material reality can push back against the forces of simulation.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Ukraine Drills, Image sourced from Wikimedia Commons | CC License, no changes made

1. Olga Onuch and Henry E. Hale, The Zelensky Effect (New York: Oxford University Press, 2023),143. ↩︎
2. Jean Baudrillard, Simulacra and Simulation, trans. Sheila Faria Glaser (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1994), 18. ↩︎
3. Guy Debord, The Society of the Spectacle, trans. Ken Knabb (Berkeley, CA: Bureau of Public Secrets, 2014), 2. ↩︎
4. Onuch and Hale, The Zelensky Effect, 153. ↩︎
5. Jean Baudrillard, The Gulf War Did Not Take Place, trans. Paul Patton (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1995),56. ↩︎

This is not the first time Russia has distanced itself from an ally. During the Second Karabakh War in 2020, Russia refrained from assisting its CSTO ally, Armenia, in stark contrast to its decisive support during the First Karabakh War in the early 1990s, which ultimately secured Armenia’s victory over Azerbaijan.

However, there is a critical distinction between the cases of Russia’s disengagement from Armenia and Syria. While Russia’s indifference towards Armenia is usually seen as symbolic punishment for Yerevan’s democratic revolution in 2018, its withdrawal from Syria signals a change in strategy — prioritizing the war effort in Ukraine over assisting its allies.

This shift therefore raises urgent concerns for Russia’s other allies which depend on it for security, particularly Abkhazia and “South Ossetia”, the pro-Russian separatist regions of Georgia. Each region maintains a small force of 2,200-2,500 men, while each of the two Russian military bases in these territories houses over 4,000 troops — making Moscow’s presence nearly twice as strong as local forces. With their security and financial stability largely reliant on Russian support, the growing reluctance of Moscow to intervene and assist its allies places these separatist regions in an increasingly precarious position. 

The excessive reliance on Russia raises concerns about whether it will provide support if the Georgian government attempts to retake these regions by force. Even if the current Georgian government seems reluctant to use force against the breakaway regions, the ongoing political crisis might bring about a new government with a new approach, and will actively try to regain the separatist regions. How will the separatist leaders of Abkhazia and South Ossetia adapt to ensure their security? Currently, the two separatist regions of Georgia are faced with two possibilities: further integration with Russia or self-reliance and diversification.

Since Russian assistance is crucial to the security of separatist regions, Abkhazia and South Ossetia can mitigate the risk of abandonment by increasing their strategic value to Moscow. By aligning more closely with Russian interests, they can strengthen their position and ensure continued support. The logic is simple — the more geopolitically valuable the region presents itself, the greater the incentive for Russia to maintain its protection over them.

Strengthening economic ties between Russia and the separatist states presents a key strategy for ensuring their stability and security. Encouraging more investments in natural resource industries could create the necessary economic incentives for Russia to protect its business interests in the region. One such plan includes establishing a car factory and beginning oil extraction. However, a more effective strategy for economic integration may lie in the expansion of the region’s tourism industry amid the ongoing war in Ukraine. As currently Russian citizens have significant problems going abroad for holidays, separatist regions of Georgia could be viable substitutes. The region’s affordability, use of the ruble, and widespread Russian language proficiency create a strong incentive for Russian tourists, fostering economic ties and strengthening social connections between the populations. This growing interdependence generates public pressure within Russia to maintain security in the separatist regions. Another option could be the relocation of some industries in the separatist regions by Russia. As the two breakaway regions of Georgia are less advanced economically, their populations might be willing to work for a lower wage for the same work. Setting up new industries would help to develop the economies of the separatist regions and provide more jobs for the population. Relocation of relatively simple military industries away from the range of Ukrainian drone strikes could also be advantageous for the Russian defense industry.

Another option is political integration which could lead to a view that the regions are “basically parts of Russia” and therefore should be defended in case of an attack. Of course, this approach could include joining the Russian Federation altogether. This could be more of an option for “South Ossetia”, as uniting with the Russian Federation is a common populist rhetoric voiced by the region’s leadership before the elections to gain political support from the population. Therefore, the separatist government can use the populist narrative to integrate more closely with Russia without risking any nationalistic opposition in the population over the loss of “sovereignty”. In other words, “South Ossetian” leaders can prioritize preventing Georgian control of the territory over independent governance. 

Military cooperation can be another direction of further integration. “South Ossetia” could deploy military personnel to the frontlines in Ukraine as a demonstration of loyalty to Moscow. Given Russia’s urgent need for reinforcements, this gesture of goodwill could serve as a strong bargaining chip for securing long-term Russian protection. By assisting Russia in a critical moment, “South Ossetia” may strengthen its strategic value, increasing the likelihood of Russian support in the event of a future military conflict. Additionally, participation in Ukraine would provide “South Ossetian” forces with valuable combat experience, further enhancing their military capabilities.

However, establishing even closer relations with Russia does not seem to be an option for Abkhazia, as Abkhazians harbor more nationalistic sentiments compared to the Ossetians, and generally do not support joining the Russian Federation. Proposals to further integration with Russia even sparked a serious protest in Abkhazia last year, which resulted in the resignation of the “President”. This also means that the separatist region risks abandonment from Russia in a similar way to Armenia, as democratically electing a more nationalistic leadership that is less keen on further cooperation with Russia risks retaliation from Russia. The other alternative to further integration with Russia would be to try and become more self-reliant and avoid putting all eggs in one Russian basket. This would include the formulation of a more flexible foreign policy instead of becoming overly dependent on Russia.

The backbone of the new approach would be to manage playing with both the Russian and the Georgian sides in order to retain the “independence” of the separatist region. The goal of the approach would be to ensure a limited Russian presence in the region while establishing relations with Georgia in order to avoid military confrontation in the case Russia withdraws completely. However, this new foreign policy contains significant risks, as it must not strain relations with Russia before establishing the desired level of relations with Georgia. In other words, Abkhazia must also not rely too much and too quickly on the Georgian side, as establishing too deep of ties with Georgia runs at a risk of a Russian retaliation which could include reducing financial assistance which would undermine the function of the separatist government altogether. Reconciliation with Georgia could also bring about a risk of losing support from the local nationalistically minded population. Thus, the leadership of the separatist region has to ensure a balanced approach.

One of the aspects of this solution could be to strike deals with the Georgian government. Negotiating the return of a limited number of up to 250,000 Georgian refugees, or improved conditions of the Georgians currently living in Abkhazia in exchange for, ideally, a guarantee of non-aggression could be one such deal. Another field where an agreement can be made is the supply of electricity. As Abkhazia is going through winter with a limited supply of electricity, a deal that would ensure a stable supply of electricity from Georgia for a respectable price could be one of the agreements that would build trust and assurance between the two parties. This would also make retaliation from Russia less severe, as there would be less leverage that Russia can pull against Abkhazia. Any such deal would mean a significant compromise from the Abkhazian part, of course, but this will be much easier to do with the political party “Georgian Dream” currently in charge of the Georgian government, as one of their principal talking points is a critique of the previous government, according to which “it threw the separatist regions into flames of war in 2008”.  Even if the current Georgian government seems unwilling to threaten the separatist regions, an ongoing political crisis might produce a new government with a different approach.

In conclusion, Russia’s recent involvement in Ukraine has led its leadership to shift its strategy and abandon its allies in support of pouring more and more resources into its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. This puts Russian allies in the Caucasus, the separatist regions of Georgia, Abkhazia and “South Ossetia” in a very tough spot. As they depend on Russian troops for security, recent shifts in Russia’s geopolitical strategy have left them vulnerable to potential Georgian reclamation. Therefore, these separatist regions must adapt and find new security strategies. This leaves them with two options. One option is further integration with Russia, which seems more beneficial for “South Ossetia”. The other option is to engage in talks with Georgia and try to formulate a more independent and self-reliant foreign policy, which seems to be the path for Abkhazia. However, it is not only Russian allies in the Caucasus that are keeping an eye on the changes in Russian strategy. Russian obsession with Ukraine should raise questions for all Russian allies, including not only other breakaway, separatist regions like Transnistria but more important players like North Korea, Iran, and China as well.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Syrians celebrate the Fall of Assad | Image sourced from FMT | CC License, no changes made

As part of a series of conversations with the 2024 Class of the Maurice R. Greenberg World Fellows Program, Abla Abdulkadir, Sarah Jeddy, and Owen Haywood of the YRIS Interviews and Events team sat down to interview the founder and Group CEO of Affinity Africa, Dr. Tarek Mouganie. Affinity Africa is a digital bank that specializes in providing banking services to underbanked populations in Africa, as well as lending for small businesses and micro-enterprises that otherwise struggle to access credit.

Mouganie discussed his journey from childhood in Ghana to the founding of Affinity Africa, during which time he obtained a PhD in physics from Cambridge and worked for eight years as a director at a hedge fund. Mouganie has sought to apply his financial experience towards his goal of African socioeconomic development by focusing Affinity Africa’s efforts on providing banking services that are more readily accessible in Africa. During the interview, Mouganie also shared his love for science, triathlons, and Afrobeats, as well as his advice for students looking to the start of their careers: “not to take things too seriously.” Mouganie’s desire to apply his talents to make a positive impact on the area of socioeconomic development shines through as an example for any student looking to make a difference in their career.

You can listen to the full interview linked above, or read selected quotes from our discussion with Dr. Tarek Mouganie below. All quotes have been edited for length and clarity.

Abla Abdulkadir: Could you go into depth on what Affinity Africa is, your role at the company, and what led you to found it? I am also interested in how your scientific background and interest in exploration and design shaped your ideas for Affinity Africa.

Tarek Mouganie: I was sort of obsessed with this idea of investing in Africa and the knock-on socioeconomic implications. After spending all this time at this hedge fund, I decided to get up one day and I quit my job, thanks to my mom. She was the catalyst. She said I was intolerable working for this fund, “What have they done to you, quit your job and come back home.” I quit my job, moved back to Ghana, and started focusing on this idea of getting investments into the continent, and in particular, supporting small businesses. I became obsessed with that idea. After trying to figure out how to build a fund that would invest in African startups and African small businesses, I then had this sort of aha moment. I had all this guilt of, like, eight years working for a hedge fund. “What did I do? Why did I waste my time, my life? Why was I there for so long?” And then I kind of paused, and I thought to myself, “I understand banking because of these eight years.” All the pieces just clicked, you know? And I was like, that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna start a bank. And that was it. 

The first thing that I did, getting back to your question on informed design, is I tried to figure out why banking has failed Africa. Just to throw out the statistics, looking at Sub-Saharan Africa in particular, only 42% of adults have a bank account. It’s crazy. I mean, the start of your financial freedom, financial journey is to actually be included in financial services. Even worse than that, less than 10% of businesses have access to credit. How can you grow without a loan? You have an idea. You want to start a business. You might be able to survive on the revenue that you generate in the cash flow, but to unlock your full potential, you need access to credit.

I realized that banking was invented and developed in the Global North, right? So it assumes, like all of us here who have a bank account in a country from the Global North, it assumes you’re formalized. It assumes you have a formal ID, you have an address, and you can prove that you have the address, too. You probably are formally employed and getting a check or at university, and you have to show that. So as a result, those are the three kinds of documentation that you need to actually go into a bank here in the US and actually open an account. Well, guess what? The majority of Africans, 87% of Africans, don’t have that information. So we had to try and understand, using informed design, how we could reinvent banking for the masses. 

And it wasn’t easy. We had a lot of stages of iteration…We actually only launched in January this year with a product in the market that we’re happy with. In March, we put out a product that we’re super happy with, and since then, we’ve actually onboarded 40,000 customers – and almost 10,000 accounts in the last six weeks alone. So it’s going like gangbusters. 62% of our customers are women, which is awesome. And almost 90% of our customers were opening their first ever bank account, which is pretty cool.

…

Sarah Jeddy: What makes small businesses so important for economic development?

Tarek Mouganie: I often use the comparison between OECD countries and countries in Sub-Saharan Africa.  So small businesses and micro enterprises are the drivers of social and economic growth. It’s crazy, you know. In the US and UK, they are actually 99.9% of registered businesses and they employ over 60% of the population. We have a highly informal sector in Ghana and in Africa in general. By creating companies that employ in the formal sector you actually unlock that potential. It’s crucial because there’s a huge opportunity in our part of the world. By 2050 one out of four people will be African, and one out of three young people will live in Africa as well. The Global North is shrinking. The global majority is growing, and Africa has a huge potential to unlock its human capital so job creation needs to follow through as well too. That’s the first thing I wanted to say. 

The second thing is, if you take a look at OECD countries the tax-to-GDP ratio is around 36%. If you take a look at countries in Sub-Saharan Africa, it’s 18% – and if you take a look at countries like Ghana, Nigeria, and any of the countries that have extractive economies like Angola, South Africa, it’s as low as 6%. Our governments make money from extractives. They sell extractives. For example, if you have a chocolate bar, the cocoa probably comes from Ghana. Gold, oil are other examples. But what’s very important is diversifying that revenue for governments. Our taxpayer base is very, very, very narrow, so part of additional revenue is generated by generating and supporting small businesses. They are the drivers of revenue for the government. We’re talking corporate tax, we’re talking income tax, we’re talking VAT [value-added tax], we’re talking everything that is collected through those small businesses. 

The other thing that’s super important about this tax, the thing that I’m kind of obsessed with, which forms the majority of that OECD 36% tax-to-GDP ratio that I talked about, is that it creates accountability between civilians and their governments. If I buy a bottle of water and I’m poor, I’m rich, I’m paying the same amount of VAT. It’s indirect and it’s regressive, right? But if I’m earning an income or I’m a small business owner and I pay tax, there is a fiscal contract between me and my government. I’m paying money to you, for you, to provide you with a service that doesn’t really exist in that part of the world, because of the hugely informal sector. So if we see an element of formalization, and I don’t know what that looks like, and I’m not here to villainize the informal sector, you know, or romanticize them, but they’re a huge part of our economy. But over time, if we see an element, basically, of formalization and an increase in the taxpayer base, and an increase in direct taxation as well, too. I would like to think that there would be more civilian accountability to leaders in the continent as a result.

…

Owen Haywood: How have you worked to bridge your diverse array of interests and experiences throughout your career?

Tarek Mouganie: I guess my life and my career only makes sense now looking backwards and trying to connect the dots – I think Steve Jobs said that, right? But in the middle of it all, I wasn’t really thinking. I knew I wanted to work in investment management. It was actually a friend from university that said, “Oh, I work for this company. Why don’t you consider joining?” And I thought, “hey, sounds great. I’ll give it a shot.” You know, what’s the worst that could happen? I would fail. I would move on with my life. And then when I left, the idea of starting a bank was out of coincidence, because I’d spent all this time, even though it wasn’t intentional, working in financial services, investing in banks, and understanding banking strategy. I think it only makes sense looking backwards at it.

The only kind of advice that I can give is not to take things too seriously. I’ve had a lot of students reach out to me here [to network], which is somewhat disappointing. Like 20 years ago, when I did my undergrad degree, everyone would go into investment banking and work for like a consultancy firm. I thought those days were over. surely there are other options out there, you know. And I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with being an investment banker or, you know, or working for a consultancy firm. I did in the past, too. But don’t be afraid to make mistakes in the early stages of your career. You have chances to mess up and correct them later in your career, and when you make a mistake earlier, it’s a lot less grave than it is in the later stages of career. 

But what I wanted to say is stay curious, don’t lose that. Think to yourself, “What is your North Star?” If you want to fix health care, if you want to fix inclusion, if you want to work in the field of climate justice or whatever, why do you care about that? Which part of the value chain do you care about as well, too? And how do you start thinking through how to get to a situation where you think you can maximize your impact. Whether it’s working for a consultancy firm, fine, as long as you’re aware of that and getting the right skill set. Whether it’s working for an established startup where you get a ton of exposure because you want to be an entrepreneur yourself, or whether it’s working for a corporation that has a department in there that looks at sustainability, is also another option. Just make sure that you have all the options laid out to stay curious and always question everything.on, if you want to work in the field of climate justice or whatever, why do you care about that? Which part of the value chain do you care about as well, too? And how do you start thinking through how to get to a situation where you think you can maximize your impact. Whether it’s working for a consultancy firm, fine, as long as you’re aware of that and getting the right skill set. Whether it’s working for an established startup where you get a ton of exposure because you want to be an entrepreneur yourself, or whether it’s working for a corporation that has a department in there that looks at sustainability, is also another option. Just make sure that you have all the options laid out to stay curious and always question everything.

Image courtesy of the Yale Jackson School of Global Affairs