Since Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022, Ukraine has dominated contemporary strategic and war studies. Its territory has been mapped in detail, military operations scrutinized, and battles narrated in real time. Yet beneath the daily reporting lies an equally urgent, if less visible, struggle: Ukraine is not only fighting for its territory, but for its future minds. Millions of Ukraine’s active citizens, skilled workers, students, scholars, and emerging professionals have fled war and uncertainty, creating a quiet crisis that could shape the nation’s future for generations.

Ukraine’s wartime displacement has reached an unprecedented scale. Since Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022, 6.9 million Ukrainian refugees have been recorded worldwide—many of them women, children, and, most notably, young people. Around 1.3 million minors have EU temporary protection, and 700,000 attend EU schools, while over 85,000 Ukrainian university students study abroad. The issue is becoming increasingly pressing as the war shows no sign of ending. Polls conducted for the Center for Economic Strategy, a Ukrainian think tank, indicate that fewer than half of refugees plan to return while the share certain they will not return has risen from 10% to 34%. 

At first glance, these trends appear to seriously jeopardize the future of the Ukrainian nation and its capacity to recover after the war. They further deplete Ukraine’s already diminished scholarly and political elite, along with its high-skilled and educated workforce—groups essential for rebuilding and developing a country torn by war and facing prolonged strategic strain for the foreseeable future. Yet the question remains: is the picture truly as bleak as it appears, or can some opportunities still be found amid the crisis?

Ukraine’s wartime exodus has indeed drained its youth and talent, but it may paradoxically lay the groundwork for a new reformist elite while strengthening an already vast diaspora actively involved in the fight for Ukraine. Since the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion, millions of Ukrainians eager to contribute to their country’s struggle have joined established diaspora communities, quickly integrating into networks and structures devoted to advancing the Ukrainian cause. Many of Ukraine’s brightest minds have also gained unparalleled opportunities to pursue world-class education and training abroad, helping to cultivate the country’s future elite. Historical precedents show that even in times of upheaval, departing citizens continue to aid their homelands from abroad and later return to lead renewal when the moment is right. If effectively engaged, Ukraine’s globally connected generation could become one of Ukraine’s greatest strategic assets, driving its post-war recovery, reform, and integration into the Euro-Atlantic community.

The Driving Force of Ukrainians Abroad

Ukraine has a solid and influential diaspora, with around twenty million Ukrainians and people of Ukrainian descent worldwide, largely concentrated in Europe, Canada, and the United States. Since February 2022, millions of newly displaced Ukrainians have joined this community, with many eager to support their country’s defense and contribute to its recovery. The Ukrainian diaspora has mobilized the country’s resources, skills, and connections on a scale unprecedented in the nation’s history in order to organize aid deliveries, lobby governments, counter Russian propaganda, and lay the groundwork for Ukraine’s eventual reconstruction. 

The powerful support from Ukrainians abroad has become a vital pillar of the country’s resilience. Ukrainian-led and allied organizations have delivered money, food, medication, clothing, and protective gear for soldiers, while others have focused on assisting displaced Ukrainians and rehabilitating wounded veterans. Equally vital has been the diaspora’s advocacy and lobbying in the international arena. Ukrainians abroad have been organizing mass demonstrations in EU capitals and the United States to demand increased military aid and press for accountability for Russian war crimes, hosting film screenings and public debates to counter Russian propaganda, and convening conferences dedicated to Ukraine’s recovery agenda. 

The scale, diversity, and determination of the Ukrainian diaspora make it an indispensable asset in the country’s struggle for survival and future recovery. Its members have reinforced Ukraine’s resilience on every front of the war. The networks, expertise, and global credibility they have built will remain a source of strength long after the fighting ends. When the hostilities end and Ukraine turns to reconstruction, these communities abroad—experienced in advocacy, resource mobilization, and cross-border collaboration—will be uniquely positioned to channel investment, transfer skills, and contribute to Ukraine’s post-war recovery.

The Pool of Ukraine’s Next Reformers

History offers examples of countries in turmoil where, once the right moment was seized, returning elites transformed the state. Georgia, Ukraine’s post-Soviet peer, saw such a shift after the 2003–2004 Rose Revolution. The new president, Mikheil Saakashvili—a Columbia Law graduate—drew a generation of Western-educated reformers back home. In just a few years, they implemented anti-corruption measures once thought impossible, from dismantling the corrupt traffic police to streamlining bureaucracy, making Georgia one of the easiest places in the world to do business. While the country still faces challenges, its transformation remains among the most striking in the post-Soviet space, serving as a reminder that even a small, well-prepared group of returnees can reshape a nation.

Just as Georgia’s transformation after the Rose Revolution was driven by a wave of Western-educated returnees, Ukraine today is positioned to harness a similar dynamic. With many of its most talented and promising people now educated at leading global universities, active in anti-war and development projects, and enriched by the experience of living, working, and embracing Western values, Ukraine has a strong chance of seeing a similar wave of transformative returnees after the end of the war. Even today, many of its young policymakers and social leaders hold prestigious Western education and training, positioning them to play a decisive role in shaping Ukraine’s post-war transformation. 

In the years ahead, Ukrainian returnees could form the backbone of a new reformist generation, leveraging global networks to attract investment, modernize institutions, and integrate the country more firmly into Euro-Atlantic structures. Their international credibility and familiarity with best governance practices will be vital in advancing judicial reform, digital transformation, and anti-corruption efforts—securing post-war recovery, accelerating EU integration, and building a more resilient, competitive, and democratic state. 

Turning Displacement into a Strategic Asset

While the wartime exodus has drained Ukraine’s population, it also holds untapped potential. Host countries have provided Ukrainian refugees with unprecedented opportunities to live, study, and work in stable, well-resourced environments. Programs such as the EU’s Temporary Protection Directive, the UK’s Homes for Ukraine, and the U.S. Uniting for Ukraine have offered legal status, housing, healthcare, education, and access to the labor market. These conditions enable displaced Ukrainians not only to survive but to build careers, gain advanced education, and develop global networks that can be reinvested in Ukraine’s future. 

The impact of this opportunity is already visible. Ukrainians abroad are applying their Western expertise, training, and resources to critical areas of national need. Diaspora economic and social entrepreneurs are contributing in fields where reconstruction must meet evolving global standards—particularly in the context of EU accession. Expertise from the Ukrainian community in the United Kingdom has helped design a roadmap to rebuild and decarbonize Ukraine’s steel sector in line with the EU Green Deal. Similarly, the Mykolaiv Water Hub has drawn on the Ukrainian diaspora in Germany to spearhead innovative water-related industries in southern Ukraine. Such initiatives demonstrate how skills gained abroad can directly accelerate reconstruction and modernization.

Beyond economic expertise, the large and engaged diaspora strengthens Ukraine’s political resilience. Communities abroad have proven adept at advocacy, coalition-building, and resource mobilization — organizing some of the largest pro-Ukraine rallies in European capitals and North America since the war began, securing meetings with top policymakers, and influencing sanctions and aid decisions. They have mobilized millions of euros in humanitarian and military support, and spearheaded global campaigns to counter Russian disinformation. These wartime achievements have built networks and reputations that will be invaluable in peacetime, facilitating investment, technology transfer, and integration with international markets and institutions.

Moreover, today’s generation of displaced Ukrainians is acquiring advanced skills and leadership experience that position them to play a decisive role in the country’s future. Education at leading universities, training in competitive industries, and work within democratic institutions abroad can provide the expertise to reform governance, modernize the economy, and strengthen the rule of law. Exposure to transparent decision-making, independent media, and effective public administration can help them embed these practices at home. Georgia’s post-Rose Revolution returnees brought comparable skills and ambitions, but Ukraine’s dispersed talent pool is larger, more globally embedded, and benefiting from a wider range of opportunities and resources provided by host countries. If effectively engaged and given clear avenues to participate in rebuilding, this cohort could become the backbone of a reformist elite—capable of transforming institutions, accelerating EU integration, and developing a resilient democracy in Ukraine.

Displacement is undeniably a loss—but it is also an investment. The challenge for Ukraine is to turn this moment of crisis into a strategic advantage, ensuring that the skills, networks, and vision gained abroad return home. If it succeeds, the country’s greatest wartime outflow could become the very force that rebuilds it stronger, more competitive, and more firmly rooted in the Euro-Atlantic community.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Ukrainian Flag, Image sourced from Flickr | CC License, no changes made

This summer, the United States made history. On July 18, Congress signed into law the GENIUS Act, the first major crypto legislation in the nation. What makes this moment remarkable is how quickly the nation’s sentiment on cryptocurrencies has shifted, especially within government. In 2013, former Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan expressed deep skepticism about Bitcoin, saying, “You really have to stretch your imagination to infer what the intrinsic value of Bitcoin is.” Today, by contrast, the sitting U.S. president is promising to make the United States the “crypto capital of the planet.”

This shift is not only visible in the United States. In 2024, the European Union implemented the Markets in Crypto-Assets (MiCA) framework, establishing rules for stablecoins, disclosures, and market practices across all member countries. These new legislative efforts represent a legitimization of cryptocurrencies in major economies around the world. Cryptocurrencies are no longer fringe, they are being integrated into the legal and financial infrastructure of the world’s largest economies.

But years before these efforts to regulate and integrate crypto, El Salvador made a far more radical move. In 2021, it became the first country in the world to adopt Bitcoin as legal tender. By 2024, however, this experiment was significantly scaled back through a $1.4 billion loan agreement with the International Monetary Fund (IMF), which included provisions that revoked Bitcoin’s official status for tax payments and made its use by businesses voluntary. As crypto becomes a serious policy issue for major nations, what lessons can be drawn from El Salvador’s high-risk, low-readiness experiment?

The Lead Up 

El Salvador’s young and bold president, Nayib Bukele, saw Bitcoin as a tool to modernize the economy and expand financial access. At the time, over 70 percent of Salvadorans lacked access to traditional banking services. Bitcoin was pitched as a solution to this gap, offering digital wallets and financial tools to those excluded from the banking system.

Another motivation was to lower remittance costs. In 2021, approximately 22 percent of El Salvador’s GDP came from remittances, largely sent from the United States. Bitcoin was seen as a way to reduce transfer fees, speed up transactions, and keep more money in the hands of recipients.

Beyond solving existing problems, Bukele envisioned building a tech-forward economy. He announced plans for Bitcoin City, a futuristic, tax-free city powered by geothermal energy from the Conchagua volcano. The city would attract foreign investment, support crypto startups, and issue “volcano bonds” to finance its development. 

What Went Wrong? 

The law was relatively easy to pass. Bukele’s party and its allies held a supermajority in the Legislative Assembly. The legislation was sweeping: all economic agents, unless lacking the necessary technology, were required to accept Bitcoin. Taxes could be paid in Bitcoin, and government subsidies were distributed in the cryptocurrency.

To support its rollout, the government introduced Chivo, a digital wallet app designed to make Bitcoin transactions accessible for everyday use. As an incentive, citizens who downloaded the app received $30 worth of Bitcoin. The government also installed hundreds of Bitcoin ATMs nationwide to make conversion into U.S. dollars easier. 

El Salvador experienced some early wins. In the first few months, crypto-based remittances rose, making up 4.5 percent of all inflows. However, this momentum did not last. By December 2024, cryptocurrency-linked remittances had declined to just 0.87 percent. Adoption of the Chivo wallet followed a similar trend. According to Bukele, three million people downloaded the app, roughly 46 percent of the population. But usage dropped significantly once the $30 bonus was spent. Fewer than 20 percent of users remained active. The average user made no Bitcoin transactions per month and only one U.S. dollar payment on average. 

Among those who chose not to download Chivo, the most common reasons were a preference for cash and a lack of trust in the system. Many users expressed concern over privacy and surveillance, saying Bitcoin transactions could be tracked, unlike cash. Others reported technical problems or feared volatility. 

These concerns were visible even before implementation. A poll conducted by Universidad Centroamericana José Simeón Cañas found that nearly 68 percent of Salvadorans opposed adopting Bitcoin as legal tender. Eight in ten said they did not trust the digital currency, and nine in ten said they did not fully understand it. This distrust was compounded by basic access issues: according to the World Bank, only 62 percent of Salvadorans were using the internet in 2021. The country’s rollout strategy did little to engage the public or prepare them for such a major shift. 

The IMF Deal and Rollback 

In 2024, the Salvadoran government secured a $1.4 billion loan agreement with the IMF, which came with significant policy conditions. These included changes to the Bitcoin Law: Bitcoin could no longer be used to pay taxes, and businesses were no longer required to accept it. These rollbacks marked a shift from mandatory, aggressive implementation to more voluntary and symbolic adoption. 

Still, the government has not entirely abandoned its crypto ambitions. President Bukele announced an $83 million profit from the country’s Bitcoin holdings, bolstered by market appreciation. Although the government has announced the sale of Chivo, Bitcoin ATMs remain in place, and the vision for Bitcoin City has not been officially abandoned.

What Can be Learned? 

El Salvador’s Bitcoin experiment underscores the challenges of adopting digital currencies without adequate public readiness, infrastructure, or trust. While the motivations behind the move, financial inclusion, remittance reform, and economic innovation, were valid and even admirable, the implementation was rapid and imposed from the top down. The disconnect between policy and public sentiment ultimately limited its impact. 

The United States and other major economies should take note. A 2023 Pew Research study found that 63 percent of Americans have “little to no confidence that current ways to invest in, trade, or use cryptocurrencies are reliable and safe,” and only 17 percent of adults report ever having used them. These figures suggest that public trust and understanding remain major hurdles, even in highly developed economies. 

If the United States truly aims to become the “crypto capital of the planet,” legislation alone will not be enough. Policymakers must also invest in public education, regulatory clarity, consumer protection, and infrastructure. Adoption should be careful, incremental, and democratic. 

El Salvador’s story should not be dismissed as a failure. It was a bold experiment that offered real lessons about timing, trust, and readiness. As the world moves further into the digital currency era, these lessons will only grow more relevant. 

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Bitcoin, Image sourced from The Central American Group | CC License, no changes made

In a Kyiv bomb shelter, a wartime president addresses his people via a smartphone. In London, thousands march with foreign flags, chanting in solidarity with a land under siege. In Tehran’s studios, state TV anchors broadcast messages across the Middle East. These scenes show that modern conflicts are fought not only with missiles, but also with narratives that leap across borders. Digital stories and images have become a strategic frontline. From a communications perspective, war is now “about perception, telling a story about who is the victim and who is the aggressor.” Across the world, this “correspondence of conflict”—the public narrative back-and-forth of war—is shaping alliances, foreign policy, and diplomacy.

Three conflict zones illustrate this trend and each case demonstrates how digital communication and international perception can sway the course of wars and the world’s response.

Ukraine: Zelensky’s War of Words and Images

From day one of Russia’s full-scale invasion in February 2022, Ukraine fought on the information front. President Zelensky posted a defiant video from central Kyiv declaring, “We are here”—proof that he and his cabinet had not fled and would resist. That brief clip set the tone for a new kind of wartime leadership, harnessing social media to rally the nation and win support abroad.

Zelensky understood that winning the narrative was as crucial as winning battles. He turned communication into a strategic weapon, delivering daily addresses to rally Ukrainians and making personal appeals to international audiences. One public diplomacy expert noted that Zelensky uses every platform — from speeches to X — to press Ukraine’s case. Under his guidance, Ukraine offered a model for how a nation under attack can shape its image via digital media.

Equally remarkable was how Ukrainian society joined the effort. Government social-media accounts adopted memes and other humor to keep Ukraine in global headlines and counter Russian propaganda. Ordinary Ukrainians became citizen reporters, sharing raw videos of bombed neighborhoods, civilian resilience, and frontline heroics. “Every Ukrainian became a voice of the embattled country . . . an eyewitness of brave resistance,” observed one analysis. Unpolished clips of everyday bravery had a major impact, their authenticity cutting through Kremlin propaganda. Amplified by influencers and a volunteer “PR Army” of communication professionals, these real-time stories helped truth prevail over disinformation.

This digital people’s war paid off diplomatically. By winning hearts and minds abroad, Ukraine won unprecedented international support. Public opinion abroad pressured many governments to impose tough sanctions on Russia and send weapons to Kyiv. NATO and EU leaders that once hesitated became more unified behind Ukraine, reflecting how Zelensky’s media diplomacy translated into tangible aid. Even diplomatic forums became venues for Ukraine’s narrative: at a 2024 peace summit in Switzerland, Zelensky’s team ensured global media heard his call for a “just peace.” In short, strategic storytelling reinforced Ukraine’s physical defense by aligning the world’s support with the nation’s struggle.

Israel–Gaza: A War of Narratives and Global Reactions

On October 7, 2023, Hamas militants attacked Israel. Graphic videos of the assault spread online within hours, sparking global outrage and sympathy for Israel. Israel quickly cast the attack as “Israel’s 9/11” and launched a military response. But as Israeli bombs pounded Gaza, a parallel war of narratives unfolded over who was the victim and who was the aggressor. Analysts noted that the conflict was about perception, with civilian suffering becoming the center of gravity for international support.

In Gaza, Hamas and ordinary Palestinians flooded social media with images of destroyed buildings and wounded civilians to sway global opinion. In past Gaza wars, support for Israel “faded as sympathies turned toward the Palestinians” amid high civilian casualties, and 2023 followed that pattern. Hamas’s media wing effectively used such footage to change international opinion. Outrage over the suffering sparked protests from Istanbul to London, with demonstrators waving Palestinian flags and demanding an end to the bombardment. 

Israel, meanwhile, pushed its own narrative: officials emphasized Hamas’s brutality and use of human shields, and the Israel Defense Forces circulated videos of precision strikes to show efforts to minimize civilian harm. Both sides churned out reams of supporting footage and armies of online supporters around the world eagerly shared content echoing their side’s view.

The information war peaked with the Gaza hospital explosion. Within minutes of the blast, Hamas blamed an Israeli airstrike for the carnage, while Israel insisted a misfired Palestinian rocket was to blame. Social media lit up with competing claims long before any evidence emerged. “False assertions flew on the internet,” demonstrating how each side weaponized unverified information (later evidence pointed to a failed militant rocket, but by then each narrative had hardened). This episode epitomized “Truth Decay”—the collapse of shared facts as partisans embraced whatever fit their narrative.

As these narratives battled, governments felt the pressure. The mounting civilian toll in Gaza and the global outcry forced Israel’s allies to grapple with public demands for ceasefires or restraint. Western leaders supportive of Israel faced protests at home, prompting some to soften their stance. In international forums, debates often mirrored the dueling narratives seen online. Even firm alliances strained under public opinion. The Israel–Gaza war showed that controlling the story is now integral to war. Military operations ran hand-in-hand with messaging. And as chants of “Stop bombing Gaza” or “Stand with Israel” echoed worldwide, it became clear that public sentiment can sway diplomatic calculations—sometimes pushing leaders toward de-escalation.

Iran: The Public Diplomacy of Resistance

Iran demonstrates how a narrative campaign can be waged outside of active battle to build influence. Tehran’s theocratic regime uses public diplomacy as a strategic tool to shape regional opinion. It leans on a “menu of narratives” that appeal to Arab and Muslim sensibilities—anti-imperialism, Islamic unity, and support for the Palestinian cause. By casting itself as the champion of the oppressed and the chief opponent of U.S. and Israeli aggression, Iran seeks to win hearts and minds across the Middle East.

Tehran propagates its message through state-controlled media and cultural outreach. International outlets like Press TV (English) and Al-Alam (Arabic) broadcast Iran’s perspective globally, countering Western narratives. By using media as a diplomatic tool, Iran aims to shape its image and build sympathy abroad. 

The regime also runs cultural and religious programs—from conferences to schools—to reinforce its “resistance” narrative. On social media, Iranian leaders speak directly to foreign publics: Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei operates official X accounts in multiple languages to spread his message internationally. Meanwhile, Tehran’s cyber proxies wage covert influence campaigns: investigators found Iranian-run accounts masquerading as locals online to push anti-Saudi and anti-Israel propaganda.

This narrative offensive has helped Iran punch above its weight. By hammering themes of Muslim solidarity and Western perfidy, Iran has stirred sympathy among segments of the Arab public. U.S. analysts admit that while Washington focused on sanctions and military pressure, Iran was busy winning the war on the Arab street. The United States effectively “ceded the battleground of public diplomacy,” one report concluded, allowing Iran’s narrative to go unchallenged. Thus, when Iran backs proxy militias in places like Lebanon or Iraq, it often frames that support not as interference but as solidarity in a common struggle—an image that resonates with many. By mastering the narrative, Tehran has managed to expand its influence even under sanctions and isolation, wielding soft power where hard power cannot openly go.

The New Battlefield of Narratives

In a hyper-connected age, the narrative battlefield is nearly as crucial as the physical battlefield. Alliances form or fray based on the stories that dominate social media and television. Leaders must recognize that a viral tweet or image can sway international action faster than diplomatic cables. But this new reality also means misinformation can cause chaos like a missile strike. With every smartphone a potential broadcast, truth and propaganda often blur. The challenge is to counter falsehoods even as we harness communication for good. As one commentator noted, engaging with the media can “contribute to a successful peacemaking process” and should not be overlooked by policymakers.

The cases of Ukraine, Gaza, and Iran show that public communication is now a critical front. A compelling narrative can rally supporters or pressure governments more than any negotiation. Ultimately, who prevails in a war may hinge on whose story the world believes. The pen and the camera have become mighty weapons – and wielding them effectively could help shape a peaceful future.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Address by President of the Republic of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelensky, Image sourced from Wikimedia Commons | CC License, no changes made

Think of a world where each click, each message you send, and each transaction you make creates a value, but not for you, or even for your own country. Rather, this data is mined, stored, and capitalized upon by distant corporations and foreign governments that only leave behind surveillance, dependency, and an empty promise of progress. This is not a dystopian future. It is already the truth of much of the Global South today, where the imperial desires of the past have morphed into a quieter, yet equally extractive, project: the colonization of the digital sphere.

The twenty-first century has been accompanied by a new empire established not by ships or armies, but algorithms, servers, and surveillance. So-called “digital colonialism” is the takeover of the digital infrastructure, platforms, and data of developing countries by strong corporations and states, largely based in the Global North, who extract enormous value from the digital lives of others while leaving behind little benefit and even less autonomy. As scholars have pointed out, data has become as valuable a resource as land or oil, and yet its governance, ownership, and profit streams remain concentrated in the hands of a few.

Asia, home to more than half of the world’s population and some of the fastest-growing economies is both the biggest battleground and the greatest prize in this contest for digital supremacy. From India and Indonesia to Malaysia and Pakistan, the region’s populations generate staggering amounts of data every second. Nevertheless, this information and the network that it travels through are controlled elsewhere. India, for example, saw the approval of the Digital Personal Data Protection Act in 2023 as a major step towards fighting data extractivism, an indication that India is becoming more aggressive in the defense of its citizens, as well as data localization. Yet critics have noted that the law also expanded the government’s surveillance powers, doing little to curb the market power of foreign Big Tech. 

Meanwhile, Indonesia banned TikTok’s shopping feature in 2023, citing concerns over the platform’s potential damage to local businesses and data sovereignty. Despite this, the country still remains deeply reliant on Chinese and American platforms for its digital economy. Even Malaysia and Pakistan, recipients of Chinese-funded smart city projects, have found themselves dependent on imported surveillance-heavy infrastructure that embeds foreign control into the very fabric of their urban spaces.

This asymmetry manifests itself everywhere. The information produced by Asian  countries is used to make money by Google, Meta, Amazon, and Microsoft in Silicon Valley or Tencent and Huawei in Shenzhen. Governments that store their most sensitive information on Amazon Web Services or Microsoft Azure effectively outsource a part of their sovereignty, relying on foreign corporations to guard their digital fortresses. Cultural content and algorithms optimized for Western audiences marginalize local languages, identities, and traditions. Public discourse, manipulated by opaque algorithms, threatens to distort democratic debate and undermine accountability. It is not merely a question of who owns the servers or collects the data, but who wields power over the lives of billions.

What is at stake, then, is nothing less than the right of nations and peoples to chart their futures in the digital age. The undermining of sovereignty, the extension of economic dependence, and the proliferation of surveillance and manipulation are all features of an unequal digital order. The Global South may have won its independence on paper, but a quiet colonization of cyberspace has begun in earnest.

Yet this story need not end in despair. Across Asia, movements for digital sovereignty are gathering strength. India’s creation of homegrown platforms like Aadhaar, UPI, and the Open Network for Digital Commerce represents an effort to build public digital infrastructure that serves citizens rather than shareholders. Southeast Asian nations are working through ASEAN to develop regional frameworks to protect privacy and regulate data flows more fairly. Activists and scholars are still advocating for the use of open-source solutions, networks owned by the community, and more restrictive legislation to rein in the influence of foreign platforms. These are the first steps in what can still turn into an existential battle over digital independence. Digital colonialism is not just an Asian or Southern problem. As more countries adopt exploitative and extractive practices modelled after the powerful, global norms risk shifting further away from democracy and equality, and toward surveillance and domination. The fight for digital sovereignty in Asia is a fight for everyone, everywhere, who believes in the possibility of a free and just internet.

Asia stands at a crossroads. Will it embrace a future dictated by the interests of others, or will it reclaim its place as a leader and defender of its destiny? Just as postcolonial movements once fought to wrest back land and resources, so too must the peoples of the Global South now fight to reclaim their data, their platforms, and their voices. 

The choices made today will determine whether the digital age becomes a new chapter in the story of freedom—or a darker sequel to the colonial subjugation of the past.

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

This essay won 1st Place in the 2025 YRIS High School Essay Contest for its response to the following prompt: “Examine the evolution of a relationship between two countries in response to a global challenge. What lessons can other nations learn from their cooperation or conflict?”

“We wanted workers, but we got people instead”

Swiss writer Max Firsch’s view—or warning—on the “Gastarbeiter” scheme of the 1960s rings especially true in the story of Germany and Turkey. Gastarbeiter—or in English, guest worker—refers to foreign workers who had migrated to West Germany starting from 1955 in lieu of a series of bilateral treaties made with several European countries and Turkey—referred to in German as Gastarbeiterprogramm. Contemporary Turkish-German relations were forged through decades of migration and diaspora politics. Their shared history goes on to show how the constant global challenge that is migration, when politicized, can deepen conflict or ease it. 

After WWII, Germany was struggling to find laborers while Turkish workers were struggling to find jobs. This opportunity led the Turkish–German Labor Recruitment Agreement to go into effect in 1961 as a part of the Gastarbeiterprogramm. Throughout the 12 years in which the program was active, a total 650,000 –documented–Turkish guest workers had migrated to Germany. The recruitment of workers was based on a rotation principle –where one guest worker would return home after one or two years– and like their given name suggests, they would be guests. All across Germany, factories for Ford and Mercedes were now filled with Turkish guest workers, production and consumption were rising—the program seemed and felt like a success.

Maybe through the preconceived notion that the program would be temporary or due to its view as a domestic, economic policy, at that time, the effects the program would have in the long run were simply underestimated. Neither the workers themselves, the German government, nor its citizens would be able to foresee that these “guests” would go on to form communities, families, and eventually, a separate identity—Almancı, a Turkish word that translates literally to German-er. As Kahn puts it into words, there is a “perception that the migrants living in Germany (Almanya) have undergone a process of Germanization, rendering them no longer fully Turkish.”

Post-WWII and post-colonial migration rose steadily until the end of the Cold War; despite the cessation of the program in 1973. Workers who were supposed to go back home had already brought their families and traditions. Soon, Turks became the largest ethnic minority in West Germany. However, legal aspects such as citizenship issues and social integration lagged, setting up the stage for the current day crisis at hand. 

The harsh reality is there—it is inevitable for a migrant community to experience alienation and discrimination, no matter time and place. The bleak fate of a predominantly Muslim Turkish diaspora was furthered following the 9/11 attacks as Islamophobia and anti-immigrant sentiments grew across Europe and the Global West. Soon, tension and aggression replaced integration and acceptance. 

The breaking point came in 2015 with the refugee influx Europe experienced following the Syrian Civil War—millions of refugees were rushing toward the gates of Europe, but first, they were all going through Turkey. By 2016, 4 million documented refugees were living in Turkey, which led the country to strike a deal with the EU to continue hosting the surplus of refugees in exchange for financial aid. It became clear that Germany and the rest of Europe were now relying on Turkey’s border control to contain millions of refugees. 

 The refugee influx would still be felt in Europe, heavily, and this put a strain on Turkish-German relations with anti-immigrant sentiments rising across Europe. Diaspora and migration politics became a part of everyday life, affecting the Turkish diaspora who had been living in Germany for decades nearly as much as the incoming refugees. Turkish President Erdogan’s threats to literally “open the gates”, were not making things easier for the Turkish diaspora either. As they became the forefront of daily news and hate fueled tabloids, Turkish migrants began asserting more political visibility while the broader European backdrop shifted to the right—the far-right. The Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), a German far-right party founded in 2013, would campaign off of anti-immigrant sentiments, framing immigrants of Turkish origin as symbols of failed integration at any chance given. “Islam does not belong to Germany.” stated Beatrix von Storch, the deputy leader of the AfD, in 2017.

In contrast to the usual anti-Muslim and anti-immigrant sentiments of the AfD, Maximilian Krah, the AfD’s top candidate for the recent 2024 EU election declared: “Turks in Germany should vote for the AfD”. The contradiction is apparent, the reason behind it is even more apparent—the Turkish diaspora is easily portrayed as outsiders but also worth courting as voters by far-right rhetoric. 

Unfortunately, exploitation through rhetoric wasn’t only from the German far-right. “Assimilation is a crime against humanity,” President Erdoğan stated in 2008. A brief –but explanatory– excerpt from a speech to a crowd of 20,000 Turkish immigrants in Cologne. His rebuke of assimilation isn’t a rebuke of integration, rather a strategy to maintain loyalty among migrants of Turkish origin. Besides, Turkey has long invested in this strategy through government-backed mosques or cultural centers in areas with a larger density of Turkish migrants. Although the number is debated, approximately 4 million people of Turkish origin live in Germany—the largest minority group in the country. Many retain Turkish citizenship, vote in Turkish elections, and consume Turkish state media, allowing the Turkish government to maintain its soft power in Germany. 

The Turkish diaspora is a community that has become a contested tool, both for Germany through the far-right and for Turkey through Erdoğan. For no one but themselves, they are human. A humanitarian crisis of hate crimes and the systematic discrimination of millions became a bargaining chip in geopolitical negotiation. 

Today, the world is defined by unprecedented connectivity and globalization; the movement of ideas, news, and people themselves is faster than ever. Labor-driven migration –whether it’s the 19th century transatlantic immigration to the U.S., the post-colonial migration to Europe or the current “brain drain” from the Global South to the West– is not something new. Yet, migration today faces a familiar but larger challenge: nationalism and far-right rhetoric pushed further by populist leaders. 

The relationship between Germany and Turkey illustrates that migration diplomacy requires mutual opportunism. The early years of the Gastarbeiterprogramm had provided much needed solutions to problems both countries were experiencing. But Turkey and Germany’s relationship –like every bilateral relationship between countries– is a balance game on a dingy tightrope. On the other hand, the unique history Germany and Turkey have has brought in a question: can diaspora communities build bridges between countries? Or are they bound to remain a tightrope? 

Germany and Turkey tell the world something different: that migrants can change borders—without a single line on the map actually moving. It reveals how systematic migration between two countries can completely transform bilateral foreign policy but it also goes on to show the dehumanization process millions go through. 

Pushing politics aside, what Mesut Özil, a Turkish-German who played for the German National Football Team, once said encapsulates the fragile sense of belonging felt by millions: “I am German when we win, but I am an immigrant when we lose.”

References 

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: German-Turkish Baklava Düsseldorf 2009, Image sourced from Wikimedia Commons | CC License, no changes made

Willis, Amy. “We Wanted Workers…” Econlib, 8 February 2017. https://www.econlib.org/archives/2017/02/we_wanted_worke.html.

Kahn, Michelle Lynn. “Between Ausländer and Almancı” History Faculty Publications, no. 147, University of Richmond, Spring 2020, pp. 53–55. https://scholarship.richmond.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1148&context=history-faculty publications. 

Østergaard-Nielsen, Eva. “Migration and Transnational Politics: Turkish Migrants in Germany.”, pp. 115–138. Routledge, 2003. https://www.taylorfrancis.com/chapters/mono/10.4324/9780203361627-6/migration-transnati onal-spaces-german-turkish-relations-eva-ostergaard-nielsen. 

Kahn, Michelle Lynn. “Between Ausländer and Almancı” History Faculty Publications, no. 147, University of Richmond, Spring 2020, pp. 55. https://scholarship.richmond.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1148&context=history-faculty publications. 

European Commission. “EU Support to Refugees in Türkiye.” EU Enlargement Policy. https://enlargement.ec.europa.eu/enlargement-policy/turkiye/eu-support-refugees-turkiye_en. ^[8] Smith, Helena. “I’ll Let Syrian Refugees Leave Turkey for West Unless Safe Zone Set Up.” The Guardian, 5 September 2019. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2019/sep/05/erdogan-ill-let-syrian-refugees-leave-turkey -for-west-unless-safe-zone-set-up.

Anadolu Agency. “Germany’s Turkish Community Worried” Anadolu Ajansı, 10 June 2024. https://www.aa.com.tr/en/europe/germany-s-turkish-community-worried-as-far-right-parties gain-ground/3321593. 

Khan, L. Ali. “The German Far-Right” JURIST Commentary, August 2024. https://www.jurist.org/commentary/2024/08/the-german-far-right-a-critical-examination-of-th e-afd-manifesto. 

InfoMigrants. “How Germany’s AfD Party Tries to Win Over Voters” InfoMigrants, 13 May 2024. https://www.infomigrants.net/en/post/57514/how-germanys-afd-party-tries-to-win-over-voter s-from-immigrant-backgrounds. 

National Review. “Erdogan’s Speech” National Review, 12 February 2008. https://www.nationalreview.com/corner/erdogan-assimilation-crime-against-humanity-speech -cologne. 

Old Faultlines. The Economist, 6 August 2016. https://www.economist.com/europe/2016/08/06/old-faultlines.

“Germany: Ethnic Groups.” Encyclopædia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/place/Germany/Ethnic-groups. 

Van Campenhout, Gijs, and Henk van Houtum. “Theorising on the Deservedness of Migrants in International Football, Using the Case of Mesut Özil.” Sport in Society 23, no. 12 (2020): 1865–1880. https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/17430437.2020.1865314.

This essay won 2nd Place in the 2025 YRIS High School Essay Contest for its response to the following prompt: “Examine the evolution of a relationship between two countries in response to a global challenge. What lessons can other nations learn from their cooperation or conflict?”

“I’ve ended up going to the hospital twice for bad air quality … it feels like a sudden flu, headache, and sore throat, plus itchy eyes,” a Taiwanese complained. In the past few decades, Taiwan struggled severely with environmental pollution. However, the pollution didn’t start there. Meteorological data shows that fine particulate matter, P.M., has drifted hundreds of kilometers across the Taiwan Strait, carried by northeastern monsoon winds from mainland China’s industrial zones. As global industrial activity intensifies, environmental degradation has emerged as one of the most urgent transboundary challenges facing the East Asian region and the world at large. But in the context of escalating geopolitical tensions between Beijing and Taipei, environmental cooperation carries implications that extend far beyond its technical domain.

Through the lens of cross-strait environmental status, Taiwan, most poignantly, faces a transboundary environmental risk: air pollution. Government data reveals that during peak haze seasons, up to 30–40% of airborne pollutants in western Taiwan originate outside the island.iii In Taipei, rising PM2.5 concentrations are associated with a 12% increase in pneumonia-related hospitalizations, highlighting a significant public health impact that accumulates to broader health concerns. Meanwhile, marine pollution and maritime accidents have also emerged as shared challenges for both governments across the Taiwan Strait. Oil spills, as marine pollution, emerge as a major issue following the launch of direct shipping links across the Taiwan Strait.

Local responses to manage such issues started early in 2009. Environmentalists from Taiwan and China met on the outlying island of Kinmen to discuss the solutions for marine pollution. The director addressed, “Against this backdrop (of increased trade), the probability of marine accidents has increased, and we are holding this seminar as the first step toward cross-strait cooperation in the field of environmental protection.”

Though these exchanges are limited in scope, their mechanisms of non-governmental implementation offer broader insights. Depoliticized engagement, defined by low sensitivity and high mutual benefit, can foster short-term consensus and lay the foundation for long-term reconciliation. It has evolved into a microcosm of broader global dynamics, and it is a pragmatic path other divided regions might emulate. This model of incremental engagement holds broader relevance beyond the Taiwan Strait. Other conflict-prone or diplomatically frozen regions- such as the Korean Peninsula, Kashmir, or even Arctic disputes- can take inspiration from this template.

Still, the occasional flicker of collaboration cannot obscure a more sobering reality. For the majority of occasions, the governments on either side of the Taiwan Strait do not share the same willingness or the ability to collaborate. There are no formal mechanisms for data exchange, warning systems, or coordinated response. A lack of national-level agreements makes the cooperation unable to unlock funding for joint
projects and set long-term emission targets.

Beijing’s attitude has further created institutional obstacles. Taiwan is marginalized in environmental international instituitions. It’s not a member of the United Nations, and by extension, it is shut out from key agencies such as the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) and the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC). In comparison, Mainland China commands vastly greater economic and scientific capacities. Its Ministry of Ecology and Environment oversees expansive data networks, regional emission inventories, and air quality monitoring systems that are integrated with international platforms like the World Meteorological Organization.

Underlyingly, the promise of local collaboration is constrained by underlying asymmetries in power and recognition. In regional and international cooperations, Taipei is often relegated to observer or ‘participant status’—terms that dilute its agency and reinforce a symbolic hierarchy. In contrast, Beijing controls the dominant institutional narrative, framing cross-Strait collaboration as a matter of ‘internal affairs’ or ‘local integration,’ rather than as a dialogue between equal entities. This expression itself implies a dominant-subordinate relationship.

Engagement with mainland China remains politically fraught in Taiwan, particularly under the ruling Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), where even technical exchanges risk being interpreted as undermining the island’s de facto autonomy. As one protester in Taipei explained during a rally against pro-China stances, “our relationship with China, from Taiwan’s perspective, should be one country on each side (of the Taiwan Strait). If we don’t stand up today, this would lead to being swallowed up (by China).” Such prevailing public sentiment illustrates the deep political sensitivities that constrain environmental governance, and moreover, reflects deeper structural differences in political systems. Thousands of kilometers away, Beijing faces relatively few domestic consequences for pursuing selective
engagement. Framed as part of its “One China” policy, mainland participation in environmental dialogues with Taiwan is portrayed as a unidirectional act of assistance or integration, not bilateral compromise. This creates a dilemma where Taiwan must constantly negotiate between technical necessity and domestic backlash, while China retains the option to engage or withdraw at will, without paying comparable political costs.

In this uneven landscape, what unfolds is more than a local dilemma. Others, watching from a distance, begin to reassess the terms under which cooperation is extended, and to whom. For governments already inclined toward collaboration, cross-Strait environmental cooperation offers a compelling vision, which is that the absence of formal recognition does not paralyze cooperation. In domains such as air quality monitoring and marine waste management, technocratic engagement has built quiet momentum beneath the din of geopolitical antagonism. Addressing that even without treaties or embassies, shared ecological threats can create real, measurable cooperation.

Otherwise, for parties unwilling to engage in cooperation and entrenched in opposition, the stronger government can leverage environmental issues as bargaining chips in diplomatic negotiations. The mechanism lies in the fact that environmental issues result in disproportionate consequences, which comparatively benefit larger powers while leaving smaller or diplomatically constrained actors more vulnerable. China’s expansive industrial base and international representation give it significant control over the sources of environmental degradation, while Taiwan, despite suffering directly from the consequences, lacks the institutional power to meaningfully shape upstream decisions.

Taiwanese leaders have learned the lesson, and it seems like the marginalization of Taiwan is irreversible. Nevertheless, such a disadvantage could be rechanneled. By invoking these injustices, Taipei could potentially mobilize international sympathy and emphasize the urgency of more inclusive governance mechanisms in its diplomacy. Thus, global challenges, such as pollution, rather than silencing marginalized actors, can empower them with new forms of mechanisms. While pollution continuously deteriorates the living standards of both sides, no treaties govern its arrival, and no protocols decide who is responsible. And yet, these items speak. They speak to an ecological interdependence that diplomacy has to catch up with.

References

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Smog above Skyscrapers in City Downtown. Image sourced from Pexel | CC License, no changes made

Reddit – The heart of the internet. (2025). Reddit.com. https://www.reddit.com/r/taiwan/comments/1iz7xcs/really_bad_air_today/

Lin, C., Wang, Z., Chen, W., Chang, S.-J., C. Perry Chou, Sugimoto, N., & Xiu Song Zhao. (2006). Long-range transport of Asian dust and air pollutants to Taiwan: observed evidence and model simulation. Atmospheric Chemistry and Physics, 7(2), 423–434. https://doi.org/10.5194/acp-7-423-2007

The Environmental Protection Administration has clarified and explained the impact of haze pollution in China on Taiwan. (2017). Moenv.gov.tw. https://enews.moenv.gov.tw/page/894720a1eb490390/2191c714-38e4-47a5-987a-98c2f47aa9a9?

Tsai, S.-S., Chiu, H.-F., Liou, S.-H., & Yang, C.-Y. (2014). Short-Term Effects of Fine Particulate Air Pollution on Hospital Admissions for Respiratory Diseases: A Case-Crossover Study in a Tropical City. Journal of Toxicology and Environmental Health, Part A, 77(18), 1091–1101. https://doi.org/10.1080/15287394.2014.922388

台北時報. (2009, November 26). Taiwan, China experts discuss oil-spill prevention. Taipeitimes.com; Taipei Times. https://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/2009/11/27/2003459521

Taiwan: Possible Cooperation With China On Pollution -. (2014, February 24). UNPO. https://unpo.org/taiwan-possible-cooperation-with-china-on-pollution/

MINISTRY OF ECOLOGY AND ENVIRONMENT THE PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC OF CHINA. (2019). Mee.gov.cn. https://english.mee.gov.cn/

WMO. (2024). World Meteorological Organization. World Meteorological Organization. https://wmo.int/

Reuters Archive Licensing: Taiwan holds protest against China-friendly media. (2022). Reuters Archive Licensing. https://reuters.screenocean.com/record/1420250?

One China Principle_Xi Jinping’s Diplomatic Thought and China’s Diplomacy in the New Era. (2022). Chinadiplomacy.org.cn. http://cn.chinadiplomacy.org.cn/2022-09/30/content_78446779.shtml

This essay won 3rd Place in the 2025 YRIS High School Essay Contest for its response to the following prompt: “Examine the evolution of a relationship between two countries in response to a global challenge. What lessons can other nations learn from their cooperation or conflict?”

“I hate Greece”, my Turkish mother once said when she was a child. My grandmother told me this story, not with pride, but to remind me how deeply the hostility between the two countries had shaped people’s thinking and language. I never held my mother responsible for feeling that way. I knew her animosity wasn’t born from her own experiences; it was inherited, shaped by decades of Greek-Turkish conflict, and passed down through stories. My ancestors lived through wars, and what they absorbed was a legacy of resentment. That legacy became a habit, passed from parent to child until it settled into everyday thinking. Even today, the tension between Turkey and Greece hasn’t fully disappeared. While attitudes toward each other have softened, chiefly among younger generations, the old resentments still echo in education, politics, and everyday conversation. Growing up as a Turkish child, I often questioned why we couldn’t just like each other. France and Germany had fought brutal wars, yet they moved forward. So why couldn’t we? Sometimes, it takes the earth itself to break apart for people to come together. That’s what happened in 1999—and again in 2023.

The relationship between Turkey and Greece is profoundly shaped by a longstanding tradition of enduring conflict and poignant historical grievances, which have significantly influenced the national identities and political trajectories of both countries for more than a century. It is a story of trauma passed down through generations, driven by conflict and forced migration, whose repercussions remain evident to this day. In 1922, during the war over Smyrna (modern-day Izmir), Turkish forces recovered the city from Hellenic troops. Much of the urban area was destroyed by fire, and about 1.5 million ethnic Greeks were forced to leave Turkey, while hundreds of thousands of Turkish people were forced out of Greece. Ernest Hemingway, reporting from the docks, described Greek mothers carrying the bodies of their children for days. This harrowing event inflicted lasting trauma on both sides, destroying entire ways of life.

In 1974, tensions escalated on the island of Cyprus. After a coup facilitated by Greek authorities sought to unite Cyprus with Greece, Turkey intervened militarily in northern Cyprus to protect the Turkish Cypriot minority. The invasion resulted in a divided island and the displacement of thousands of people. The conflict hardened nationalist feelings, and Cyprus remains divided today.

These historical events have caused enduring scars. Protracted disputes over maritime boundaries, airspace, and territorial rights continue to create tension. Despite this, moments of cooperation during natural disasters have shown that reconciliation is achievable, even if political issues remain unmet.

On August 17, 1999, at exactly 3:01 a.m., a magnitude 7.4 earthquake struck the city of Izmit in northwestern Turkey. The tremors reached across 2,000 square kilometers, reaching Istanbul – one of Turkey’s most populous cities, and the place where my family lived. My mother and her family slept in a parking lot for days, terrified to return home. My father lost his best friend in the collapse. The earthquake claimed over 18,000 lives, left more than 400,000 people unhoused, and either destroyed or severely damaged an estimated 330,000 residential buildings. Immediately after, grieving relatives dug through the rubble with basic tools—or even their bare hands—trying to reach loved ones. The devastation was immense. Yet what astonished many was that the first international rescue team to arrive came from Greece. Three military planes landed from Athens, carrying sniffer dogs, rescue workers, and field hospitals. Donations poured in. “As much help as it needed, for as long as it needed,” said Greek Foreign Minister George Papandreou. In a moment of unimaginable grief, aid came from across the sea from the people my parents had been taught to fear.

Three weeks later, Athens was hit by a damaging earthquake. A 5.9 magnitude quake killed around 150 people and left tens of thousands without homes. Turkey responded without delay, mobilizing search and rescue teams. Turkish volunteers worked tirelessly to rescue Greek civilians trapped beneath the rubble. For many, it was a moment of insight. The images of Greek and Turkish flags featured on each other’s emergency supplies eased tensions between the countries, leading to a notable shift in public opinion. Within months, Greece dropped its veto against Turkey’s EU candidacy. Diplomats called it “Earthquake Diplomacy.” But the real change did not originate from foreign ministries; it came from ordinary citizens of two “enemy” nations recognizing each other’s pain and responding as humans.

In February 2023, disaster struck again. This time in southeastern Turkey, Greece responded by sending 25 EMAK rescuers, two search dogs, and 90 tons of humanitarian aid. This time, no one was surprised. In Thessaloniki, citizens organized relief drives, sending bilingual packages labeled in Turkish and Greek. A young diplomat in training reflected, “We are friends now with Turkey, but this might change again soon. It always does.” Even so, a local artist conveyed, “The Turkish people will never forget our solidarity.” What had once been a diplomatic anomaly had become a reflex. Yet, questions remained: was this genuine reconciliation or simply another truth born of tragedy?

What happened between Turkey and Greece embodies significance far beyond their shared sea. Earthquake diplomacy did not emerge from formal negotiations or treaties; instead, it was rooted in grief and profound human vulnerability. As Greek artist Aristeia Elbasidou put it, “It is propaganda that poisons our relations.” Reconciliation can start in chaos, not always in parliaments. It often emerges through the breakdown of formal barriers, when individuals interact beyond institutional frameworks and political divisions. Other countries might learn from this example. In South Asia, India and Pakistan, despite a long history of conflict, have cooperated on flood monitoring in Kashmir. Even amid ongoing disputes, shared threats can compel a degree of honesty. From that honesty, there is the chance for something new to emerge.

My family and I visit Greece every summer now. My mother, who once recoiled at the thought of Greece, now travels there with a sense of peace and connection. This change isn’t about politics; it’s about kindness and the choices we make. I’ve always dreamed of becoming a diplomat to help reshape the relationship between my country and Greece, yet I have come to realize that peace may not begin in embassies, it starts with the people, ordinary citizens choosing to connect beyond politics.

References:

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Nikos Dendias, Foreign Minister of Greece, visits Turkey. Image sourced from Wikimedia Commons | CC License, no changes made

“BBC ON THIS DAY | 20 | 1974: Turkey Invades Cyprus,” n.d. http://news.bbc.co.uk/onthisday/hi/dates/stories/july/20/newsid_3866000/3866521.stm.

Kermeliotis, Teo. “Cypriot Children’s 1974 Journey Into the Unknown.” Al Jazeera, January 30, 2018. https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2018/1/30/cypriot-childrens-1974-journey-into-the-unknown.

Nelsson, Richard. “Archive, 1974: Turkey Invades Cyprus.” The Guardian, July 17, 2024. https://www.theguardian.com/world/article/2024/jul/17/archive-1974-turkey-invades-cyprus.

“Nation Building and the Lives It Changed Forever: A Reflection on the 100th Anniversary of the Greco-Turkish War | Ashes to Ashes: The Greco-Turkish War and the Burning of İzmir/Smyrna, 1919-1922 · Online Exhibits,” n.d. https://apps.lib.umich.edu/online-exhibits/exhibits/show/greco-turkish-war/burning-of-izmir-smyrna.

“The Greco-Turkish War, the Beginning of a Century of Displacement by Àlex Martínez Vega – Group for the Representation of Conflict,” n.d. https://webs.uab.cat/g4roc/activities/war-in-the-news/the-greco-turkish-war-the-beginning-of-a-century-of-displacement-by-alex-martinez/.

Euronews. “Greece and Turkey Hail Positive Meeting but Say More Work to Be Done on Maritime Dispute,” November 8, 2024. https://www.euronews.com/my-europe/2024/11/08/greece-and-turkey-hail-positive-meeting-but-say-more-work-to-be-done-on-maritime-dispute.

Mechanix, Web. “Cooperation Between India and Pakistan After Natural Disasters.” Stimson Center, November 27, 2022. https://www.stimson.org/2015/cooperation-between-india-and-pakistan-after-natural-disasters/.

Global Affairs and Strategic Studies. “The Dispute in the Aegean: A Swarm of Islands Complicates the Division of Boundaries.,” n.d. https://en.unav.edu/web/global-affairs/la-disputa-en-el-egeo-un-enjambre-de-islas-que-complica-el-reparto-de-limites.

Gillan, Audrey, and Helena Smith. “World Goes to the Rescue.” The Guardian, July 17, 2016. https://www.theguardian.com/world/1999/aug/18/turkeyquakes.turkey3.

“Quake in ’99 Helped Soothe Tense Greek-Turkish Relations,” n.d. https://www.aa.com.tr/en/turkey/quake-in-99-helped-soothe-tense-greek-turkish-relations/131641#.

TheStructuralEngineer.info. “September 7, 1999: A Strong Earthquake Struck Athens, Greece.” Thestructuralengineer.Info, September 8, 2023. https://www.thestructuralengineer.info/news/september-7-1999-a-strong-earthquake-struck-athens-greece.
“Asian Disaster Reduction Center（ADRC）,” n.d. https://www.adrc.asia/view_disaster_en.php?lang=&KEY=68.

Caucaso, Osservatorio Balcani E. “Greece and Turkey, Disaster Diplomacy.” OBC Transeuropa, n.d. https://www.balcanicaucaso.org/eng/Areas/Greece/Greece-and-Turkey-disaster-diplomacy-223967.

Hürriyet Daily News. “Turkey, Greece Unlikely to Return to the Spirit of 1999,” November 1, 2020. https://hurriyetdailynews.com/opinion/serkan-demirtas/turkey-greece-unlikely-to-return-to-the-spirit-of-1999-159646.

“How Did the 1999 İzmit Earthquake Shape Earthquake Risk in Turkey?,” n.d. https://www.moodys.com/web/en/us/insights/insurance/how-did-the-1999-izmit-earthquake-shape-earthquake-risk-in-turkey.html.

“BBC ON THIS DAY | 17 | 1999: Turkey Hit by Huge Earthquake,” n.d. http://news.bbc.co.uk/onthisday/hi/dates/stories/august/17/newsid_2534000/2534245.stm.

Tran, Mark. “Thousands Killed and Injured as Earthquake Shakes Turkey.” The Guardian, August 17, 1999. https://www.theguardian.com/world/1999/aug/17/marktran.

This essay won an honorable mention in the 2025 YRIS High School Essay Contest for its response to the following prompt: “Examine the evolution of a relationship between two countries in response to a global challenge. What lessons can other nations learn from their cooperation or conflict?”

On July 19, 2019, a South Korean man in his seventies set himself ablaze outside the Japanese embassy in Seoul, protesting Tokyo’s decision to restrict exports of critical semiconductor chemicals to South Korea. His desperate act was mirrored by others who mutilated their fingers and boycotted Japanese companies like Toyota and Sony. Yet, just a few years later, the two nations—once bitter adversaries—have forged multi-billion-dollar semiconductor partnerships, driven by the pressures of a global chip shortage and escalating US-China trade tensions.

The evolution of Japan and South Korea’s relationship is understood through the legacy of Japan’s wartime atrocities during its annexation of the Korean Peninsula from 1910 to 1945–a painful chapter that continues to cast a long shadow through political disputes over apology and reparations. Ongoing tensions had escalated in 2019 after South Korean National Assembly Speaker Moon Hee-sang referred to then-Japanese Emperor Akihito as “the son of the main culprit of war crimes,” specifically referencing the sexual slavery inflicted by the Japanese military on Korean comfort women during WWII. Concurrently, the South Korean Supreme Court ordered the Japanese government to provide monetary compensation for the Korean laborers who were forcibly relocated and subjected to perilous working conditions. Japan attempted to cripple South Korea’s semiconductor industry in retaliation, while reaffirming its stance that all compensation issues had been settled in a $300 million normalization treaty in 1965. 

Ironically, Japan’s sanctions exposed the deep interdependence between the two nations and paved the groundwork for future collaboration. In 2018, South Korean semiconductor firms imported 44% of hydrogen fluoride, 88.6% of photoresist chemicals, and 90% of fluorinated polyimide from Japan, the global leader in producing these three essential semiconductor materials. This significant reliance plunged South Korea into a desperate scramble to diversify its domestic production and explore alternative sources after Japan’s sanctions. Conversely, according to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s Observatory of Economic Complexity, South Korea accounted for 17% of Japan’s exports of chemicals for electronics–only second to the United States–in 2017. The feud’s effects were felt globally: Samsung and SK Hynix supplied 61% of memory chip components, and disruptions sent prices soaring, impacting giants like Apple and Huawei.

Further complicating matters, the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2019 heightened the demand for laptops and tablets as people participated in Zoom calls and sought digital pastimes. Manufacturing bottlenecks, the intricate production process involving nearly 1,400 steps and 70 border crossings per chip, and external shocks—such as U.S. trade restrictions on China and a neon gas shortage caused by the Russian invasion of Ukraine—pushed the already fragile system to the brink.

Amid these obstacles, political leaders and private tech firms from Japan and South Korea sought to reestablish ties. In March 2023, South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol and Japanese Prime Minister Fumio Kishida held their first bilateral summit in 12 years. Days later, South Korea withdrew its World Trade Organization complaint against Japan’s export curbs, and Japan lifted its bans. Business federations from both countries also pledged funds for cultural exchanges and youth scholarships, strengthening diplomatic ties.

Afterwards, the private sector took the lead in revitalizing trade connections. In mid-2023, Samsung’s Device Solutions head Kung Kye-hyun proposed a $219 million investment in a semiconductor R&D facility in Japan. The following year, JSR—a leading Japanese company specializing in inorganic EUV photoresists—announced plans to establish manufacturing facilities in Chungcheongbuk-do. This collaboration echoes a post-World War II pattern in which major conglomerates have driven economic recovery and policy influence in both countries.

On May 28, 2025, the two nations reaffirmed their alliance at a summit in Seoul, marking 60 years of diplomatic ties, signing new bilateral semiconductor agreements. Japan also pledged support for South Korea’s accession to the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP), which could boost Korea’s economy by $86 billion annually, according to the Brookings Institution.

These initiatives complemented ongoing efforts to build manufacturing facilities in each other’s countries amid the growing pressures of the US-China trade war. Samsung’s reliance on its Xi’an, China factory for 40% of its NAND flash memory production exposes it to significant risk. Since the tariff skirmishes between the U.S. and China escalated in February 2025, economic collaboration between Japan and South Korea has deepened, as noted by Yoon Cheol-min, head of international trade at the Korea Chamber of Commerce and Industry.

However, in the backdrop of economic progress, many South Koreans are still unsatisfied with how Japan has yet to issue a formal apology to Korean comfort women and forced laborers in the May 28, 2025, meeting. On June 20, 2025, members of the Joint Action for Historical Justice and Peaceful Korea-Japan Relations protested outside Nippon Steel’s headquarters in Chiyoda, Tokyo. Activist Lee Guk-eon stated, “The buildings that currently house Nippon Steel and Mitsubishi Heavy Industries were built by the blood, sweat, and tears of Korean laborers who were forcibly mobilized.” Additionally, the majority of the 50,000+ Korean comfort women have passed away without receiving any compensation from the Japanese government. 

During the upcoming Comfort Women Memorial Day on August 14, 2025, the world will be watching to see whether Japan has renewed its stance on apologizing for its wartime atrocities.

As key players in the global semiconductor supply chain, Japan and South Korea represent a relationship marked by both a painful past and pragmatic cooperation forged through shared challenges. A survey conducted between May 23-June 12, 2025 by the Nikkei and Maeil Newspaper indicates that 36.7% of Japanese and Korean companies want to step up collaboration–a substantial percentage considering the countries’ animosities just a few years before, evidencing a hopeful shift in national attitude. Clearly, Japan and South Korea’s partnership stands as a compelling example for other countries: when the private sector and governments collaborate amid global crises, they can create innovative solutions that transcend historical grievances. 

References 

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Cpu, Chip, Semiconductor Image. Free for use, taken on Jan 6, 2018, Photo by Zathris. Image sourced from pixabay | Pixabay Content License, no changes made

1. Sang-Hun, Choe. “South Korean Dies after Self-Immolation at Japanese Embassy in Seoul.” The New York Times, 19 July 2019, www.nytimes.com/2019/07/19/world/asia/south-korea-fire-protester.html.
2. BBC News. “South Korea and Japan’s Feud Explained.” BBC News, 2 Dec. 2019, www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-49330531.
3. Al Jazeera, News Agencies. “Japan Demands Apology from South Korea over Remarks on Emperor.” Www.aljazeera.com, 12 Feb. 2019, www.aljazeera.com/news/2019/2/12/japan-demands-apology-from-south-korea-over-remarks-on-emperor.
4. Mariem, Ben. “South Korea Court Orders Japan Company to Compensate Victims of Forced Labor during WW Ll.” Jurist.org, – JURIST – News, 23 Aug. 2024, www.jurist.org/news/2024/08/south-korea-court-orders-japan-company-to-compensate-victims-of-forced-labor-during-ww-ll/. Accessed 1 July 2025.
5. South. “Columbia Journal of Transnational Law.” Columbia Journal of Transnational Law, 3 Nov. 2019, www.jtl.columbia.edu/bulletin-blog/south-korean-courts-decision-to-compensate-forced-laborers-from-world-war-ii.
6. Dumas, Loïc. JAPAN-SOUTH KOREA’S RIVALRY: The Semiconductor Industry Instrumentalization and Its Implication for the Future of Japan-South Korea Economic Interdependence ASIA FOCUS #157 ASIA PROGRAMME. 2021.
7. Kim, Jihyun, and David Ho. “Decades of Distrust: Japanese Firms May Suffer in South Korea Row.” Al Jazeera, 6 Aug. 2019, www.aljazeera.com/economy/2019/8/6/decades-of-distrust-japanese-firms-may-suffer-in-south-korea-row. Accessed 1 July 2025.
8. Yen Nee Lee. “The Japan-South Korea Dispute Could Push up the Price of Your next Smartphone.” CNBC, CNBC, 23 July 2019, www.cnbc.com/2019/07/23/japan-south-korea-dispute-impact-on-semiconductor-supply-chain-prices.html.
9. Mohammad, Wassen, et al. “The Global Semiconductor Chip Shortage: Causes, Implications, and Potential Remedies.” IFAC-PapersOnLine, vol. 55, no. 10, 2022, pp. 476–483. ScienceDirect, www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2405896322017293, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ifacol.2022.09.439.
10. Wishart-Smith, Heather. “The Semiconductor Crisis: Addressing Chip Shortages and Security.” Forbes, 19 July 2024, www.forbes.com/sites/heatherwishartsmith/2024/07/19/the-semiconductor-crisis-addressing-chip-shortages-and-security/.
11. Kuhn, Anthony . “South Korea and Japan Host a Bilateral Summit for the First Time in 12 Years.” NPR, 16 Mar. 2023, www.npr.org/2023/03/16/1164053485/south-korea-and-japan-host-a-bilateral-summit-for-the-first-time-in-12-years. Accessed 1 July 2025.
12. Park. “Tokyo Lifts Export Curbs; Seoul Withdraws WTO Complaint.” Asianews.network, 2023, asianews.network/tokyo-lifts-export-curbs-seoul-withdraws-wto-complaint/. Accessed 1 July 2025.
13. Mari Yamaguchi , and Kim Tong-Hyung . “Japan and South Korea Mark 60 Years of Diplomatic Relations.” AP News, 22 June 2025, apnews.com/article/japan-south-korea-anniversary-history-diplomatic-relations-697c0a6b00cdf0a740e5f5dd0c0145ae. Accessed 1 July 2025.
14. Nussey, Sam, and Joyce Lee. “Samsung to Set up Chip Packaging Research Facility in Japan.” Reuters, 21 Dec. 2023, www.reuters.com/technology/samsung-set-up-chip-packaging-research-facility-japan-2023-12-21/.
15. JSR. “JSR Expands Global Development and Production Functions for Leading-Edge Photoresists | 2024 | News | JSR Corporation.” JSR Corporation, 30 Aug. 2024, www.jsr.co.jp/jsr_e/news/2024/20240830.html. Accessed 1 July 2025.
16. Niklas Tawast . “Japanese and Korean Giants – Understand the Nature of the Beast! – Intralink.” Intralink, 29 Aug. 2024, www.intralinkgroup.com/en-GB/Latest/Intralink-Insights/August-2024/Japanese-and-Korean-giants-%E2%80%93-understand-the-nature.
17. YAMAGUCHI, MARI. “Japan and South Korea Mark 60 Years of Ties despite Lingering Tension and Political Uncertainty.” Ajc, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, 22 June 2025, www.ajc.com/news/2025/06/japan-and-south-korea-mark-60-years-of-ties-despite-lingering-tension-and-political-uncertainty/. Accessed 1 July 2025.
18. Yonhap. “S. Korean, Japanese Biz Leaders Agree to Boost Cooperation in AI, Chips, CPTPP Entry – the Korea Herald.” The Korea Herald, 28 May 2025, www.koreaherald.com/article/10498023. Accessed 1 July 2025.
19. Michael Plummer , Peter A. Petri. “Why South Korea Should Join the CPTPP.” Brookings, 2 Dec. 2020, www.brookings.edu/articles/why-south-korea-should-join-the-cptpp/.
20. Eun-jin, Kim. “Top-Ranking Chinese Official Tours Samsung’s Xi’an Semiconductor Plant amid U.S.-China Tension.” Businesskorea, 17 Apr. 2025, www.businesskorea.co.kr/news/articleView.html?idxno=240196. Accessed 1 July 2025.
21. Kawakami, Takashi . “40% of Japanese, South Korean Firms Plan More Collaboration with Each Other.” Nikkei Asia, 19 June 2025, asia.nikkei.com/Business/Business-trends/40-of-Japanese-South-Korean-firms-plan-more-collaboration-with-each-other. Accessed 1 July 2025.
22. Maresca, Thomas . “Korean Wartime Forced Laborers Still Seeking Apology, Reparations from Japan – UPI.com.” UPI, 14 Aug. 2019, www.upi.com/Top_News/World-News/2019/08/14/Korean-wartime-forced-laborers-still-seeking-apology-reparations-from-Japan/8231565778812/. Accessed 1 July 2025.
23. Columbia Law School. “Military Sexual Slavery, 1931-1945 | Korean Legal Studies.” Columbia.edu, 2016, kls.law.columbia.edu/content/military-sexual-slavery-1931-1945.
24. Xu, Keyue. “Testimony of History: Japanese Organization Fights for Justice, Demands Its Government to Apologize and Compensate “Comfort Women” Survivors – Global Times.” Globaltimes.cn, 2025, www.globaltimes.cn/page/202506/1337249.shtml. Accessed 1 July 2025.
25. Dong-woo, Chang. “Over Half of S. Korean Firms Say Economic Ties with Japan Beneficial: Survey.” Yonhap News Agency, 18 June 2025, en.yna.co.kr/view/AEN20250619001700320. Accessed 1 July 2025.

This essay won an honorable mention in the 2025 YRIS High School Essay Contest for its response to the following prompt: “Examine the evolution of a relationship between two countries in response to a global challenge. What lessons can other nations learn from their cooperation or conflict?”

In a world where revolutions are increasingly fought with hashtags rather than bullets, digital governance stands as one of the defining fronts in the world’s reformation. A silent revolution began rippling across the world in the 2010s, not spread with bloodshed onto barricades but through algorithms, public data, and digital usernames. One of the many global issues that shaped bilateral relations during that period was the emergence of e-governance, and it could be deemed as the most powerful. Tunisia and Estonia, existing on two far-flung continents, both very diverse in culture and history, are bound by a common vision of transparent governance and citizen empowerment through digital means. In the aftermath of the Arab Spring (an anti-government uprising across Arab nations), Tunisia was faced with the challenge of rebuilding its institutions and improving public trust in them, whereas thousands of kilometers away, Estonia had already established itself as one of the most digitally advanced societies. Quite interestingly, their paths converged, a rare indication of how a small Baltic country and a post-revolutionary state from North Africa could build a partnership in digital democracy. 

From Protest to Platforming

In December 2010, a young street vendor named Mohamed Bouazizi gained international attention when he self-immolated to protest against corruption and harassment by municipal officers he faced as a street vendor. His act of self-sacrifice set forth the Tunisian Revolution, bringing down President Zine El Abidine Ben Ali and triggering the much wider Arab Spring. Tunisia, thus, began emerging after the revolution as the regional beacon of hope with its comparatively tranquil transition toward democracy. However, behind hopeful headlines, this country was dealing with institutional decay, public distrust, and an urgent need for fundamental reforms. In fact, the lack of transparency in government became a major issue that the new Tunisia faced after the revolution. Tunisia had no tools and very little infrastructure to produce a transparent and accountable implementation of public services. The lack of mechanisms to engage the citizenry and the absence of the ability to interact with government services digitally further distanced the people.

By 2012, Tunisia realized that digital governance could also be used as an asset for rebuilding civic trust, improving organizational efficiency, and recognizing the importance of Tunisia’s commitment to e-governance with respect to the consolidation of democratic gains. The initial programs included the National Digital Strategy (2014-2018), which envisioned the digitization of public records, the establishment of open data portals, and the adoption of e-participation tools. Lacking technical capacity and institutional experience, Tunisia needed to find a mentor, an international partner that could offer guidance on digital reforms while respecting Tunisia’s unique socio-political context. This situation unexpectedly opened the door for Estonia to become involved.

The Republic of Code

Often called “the most advanced digital society in the world,” Estonia is one of the e-governance leaders since the Soviet times. As explained in Sandra Roosna and Raul Rikk’s e-Estonia: e-Governance in Practice, the Estonian model is based on three major pillars: digital ID cards, health and legal records in blockchain, and X-Road, a variety of decentralized systems for seamless interoperability across government and private databases. In Estonia, citizens are able to use their digital ID for voting, paying taxes, obtaining digital prescriptions, and creating businesses online. The high-trust system reduces profound bureaucracy and corruption, thereby raising transparency and efficiency.

Notably, Estonia’s willingness to share its digital model with other nations represents not only the best thing one can imagine for the opportunity presented to them but also one of the most effective sites of soft power. Joseph Nye argues in his book Soft Power: The Means to Success in World Politics that nations that export governance models are the ones that build networks of influence and credibility. Estonia perfectly embodies the idea that in 2002, it founded the e-Governance Academy to assist and train states aspiring to digitization. Tunisia became one of its key partners in the MENA (Middle East and North Africa) region.

A Bridge Made of Bytes

Tunisia’s formal relations with Estonia began to develop in 2013 when Tunisian officials from the Ministry of Communication Technologies contacted the e-Governance Academy. Supported through the Neighbourhood Policy of the European Commission and the EU4Digital initiative, Estonia has been providing direct training, workshops, and institutional partnerships to assist Tunisia in modernizing its public sector.

One particular area of focus was cybersecurity. Estonia’s experience with the 2007 cyberattack, in which its government infrastructure had been the target of a suspected Russian-backed operation, deeply ingrained in the Estonians the importance of digital security. Estonian experts helped Tunisia to develop an institutional cybersecurity strategy and trained personnel in data protection and the resilience of digital infrastructure, as these threats were timely for Tunisia, given increasing concerns about cyber threats and electoral interference ahead of the elections of 2014 and 2019.

Equally important was the creation of the digital ID framework based on Estonia’s model. Tunisia began creating a safe national identity system with the help of Biometric Update and the World Bank. Citizens used this system to access a wide range of e-services, including civil registration, tax filings, and educational records. Pilot programs were carried out in Tunis and Sfax with the technical assistance of Estonian consultants.

Tunisia and Estonia formed a formal bilateral agreement in 2022 to enhance cooperation on digital policy. By 2023, Tunisia launched the very first government transparency portal with an open API architecture that allows civil society organizations to monitor budgets and procurements in real-time. These initiatives were praised by the World Bank and Freedom House for strengthening Tunisia’s democratic infrastructure.

Digital Takeaways

The Tunisia-Estonia partnership sends a strong message to the world: global issues concerning digital transformation are not limited to wealthy countries or countries in close proximity. Instead, it offers intriguing opportunities for the creation of synergistic partnerships between seemingly unrelated allies. From revolutionary turmoil towards digital experiments, Tunisia has shown that even fragile democracies can make strong strategic gains if they decide to modernize their governance tools. Estonia significantly enhanced its diplomatic and development footprint by not just exporting the technology but also the institutional know-how.

Capitalizing on the symbol of modern diplomacy, the Tunisia-Estonia cooperation also underscores the district power of so-called alternative types of diplomacy in foreign relations. Karim Sabbagh and his collaborators in Understanding the Arab Digital Generation argue that 21st-century diplomacy has become increasingly focused on knowledge transfer, technical training, and collaboration founded upon values. The Tunisia-Estonia case is a textbook example in which the partners were least interested in commerce or military alliances and were principally more committed to their common worldview of civic participation, transparency, and inclusion.

In addition, this case illustrates how capacity needs to be built along with technological developments. As Rainer Kattel and Ines Mergel claim in Estonia’s Digital Transformation, most digital reforms fail because countries import software solutions without embedding them into sustainable governance structures. Accordingly, it was not simply about transferring digital blueprints to Tunisia on the part of Estonia: institution-building measures, human capital, and some level of iterative process needed to be included in the package.

Lastly, the Tunisia–Estonia model should inspire other emerging democracies to pursue unconventional partnerships, for in this multipolar world, where trust in global institutions is in decline, bilateral cooperation on pragmatic goals like digital literacy, cybersecurity, and civic tech may in fact become a key that is meant to protect democracy.

From Revolution to Resolution

Tunisia and Estonia’s relations started against the backdrop of revolution and grew at the forefront of innovation. What commenced as a struggle for democratic legitimacy after the Arab Spring became a fully-fledged digital transformation process supported by international solidarity and technical expertise. The partnership is indeed a stellar case for digital governance and a real-story case in twenty-first-century diplomacy, which uses the levers of statecraft with code, connectivity, and civic empowerment.

Answering the global challenge of digital transformation brought Tunisia and Estonia to a humble meeting across continents. Their cooperation serves as a reminder to others: democratization in the digital age is not about replication, but about adapting successful models to local contexts with mutual respect and a common ambition. In an era in which authoritarianism and digital surveillance are on the rise, such a partnership stands out as a rare example of unity through technology.

References

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: MoU Tunisia-Estonia – 17 May 2022, Image sourced from Wikimedia Commons | CC License, no changes made

1. United Nations, “E-Government in Support of Sustainable Development | Public Institutions,” 2016, https://publicadministration.desa.un.org/publications/e-government-support-sustainable-development.
2. Freedom House, Freedom in the World 2014: The Democratic Leadership Gap (Washington, DC: Freedom House, 2014), https://freedomhouse.org/sites/default/files/2020-02/Freedom_in_the_World_2014_Booklet.pdf.
3. Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, Government at a Glance 2017, OECD Publishing, Paris, 2017, https://www.oecd.org/en/publications/2017/07/government-at-a-glance-2017_g1g74dbf.html.
4. National Research University Higher School of Economics, Centre for Institutional Studies – Public Administration and Social Studies of Technology in Non-Democratic Regimes (PaSSTn), https://we.hse.ru/en/irs/cas/passtn.
5.  e-Governance Academy, e-Estonia: e-Governance in Practice, Tallinn: e-Governance Academy, 2016, https://ega.ee/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/e-Estonia-e-Governance-in-Practice.pdf.
6. Tanel Kerikmäe, David Ramiro Troitiño, and Olga Shumilo, “An Idol or an Ideal? A Case Study of Estonian E-Governance: Public Perceptions, Myths and Misbeliefs,” Acta Baltica Historiae et Philosophiae Scientiarum 7, no. 1 (Spring 2019): 71–80, https://www.researchgate.net/publication/333681317_An_Idol_or_an_Ideal_A_Case_Study_of_Estonian_E-Governance_Public_Perceptions_Myths_and_Misbeliefs.(researchgate.net)
7. Nye, Joseph S. Soft Power: The Means to Success in World Politics (PublicAffairs, 2004).
8. Ibid.
9. European Commission, eGovernment Benchmark 2020: eGovernment that works for the people, 2020,  https://digital-strategy.ec.europa.eu/en/library/egovernment-benchmark-2020-egovernment-works-people. 
10. World Bank, “Citizens at the Center: Tunisia’s GovTech Success Story,” November 2023.
11.  Morozov, Evgeny. To Save Everything, Click Here (PublicAffairs, 2013).
12.  Tunisian Estonian Chamber of Commerce, “Tunisia and Estonia Sign MoU For Cooperation In The Field of Digitization And E-Governance,” May 2022.
13. International IDEA, “Protecting Tunisian Elections from Digital Threats,”May 10, 2019, https://www.idea.int/news/protecting-tunisian-elections-digital-threats.
14.  U.S. Department of State, “Joint Statement on Tunisia-Estonia Digital Cooperation,” 2013.
15.  e-Governance Academy, “Tunisia Learns from Estonia to Develop Their E-Government,” https://ega.ee/tunisia-learns-from-estonia-to-develop-their-e-government/. 
16. Ibid.
17. Freedom House, “Tunisia: Freedom in the World 2023,” Freedom in the World, https://freedomhouse.org/country/tunisia/freedom-world/2023.
18.  Karim Sabbagh et al., Understanding the Arab Digital Generation (Beirut: Booz & Company, 2012), http://www.investinlebanon.gov.lb/Content/uploads/Understanding_the_Arab_Digital_Generation.pdf.
19. Rainer Kattel and Ines Mergel, “Estonia’s Digital Transformation: Mission Mystique and the Hiding Hand,” in Great Policy Successes, ed. Paul Hart and Mallory Compton (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019), 143–60, https://academic.oup.com/book/42635/chapter/358101931.

Introduction

In an era marked by shifting geopolitical paradigms and the proliferation of non-traditional instruments of statecraft, culture has reemerged as a critical axis of international engagement. Beyond the conventional vectors of economic strength and military capability, states increasingly leverage cultural capital to shape global narratives, assert identity, and cultivate influence. Among these strategies, the diplomatic mobilization of heritage—anchored in the symbolic and historical resonance of antiquity—stands out as a particularly potent form of cultural statecraft.

Greece, heir to one of the world’s most storied civilizations, occupies a distinctive position within this landscape. Its ancient heritage—synonymous with the foundational tenets of Western thought, democratic governance, and artistic excellence—functions not merely as a source of national pride but as a dynamic tool of international engagement. This article explores the strategic deployment of Greece’s classical legacy through the lens of heritage diplomacy, analyzing its theoretical underpinnings, historical evolution, and contemporary applications. Through case studies and critical reflection, it considers how the invocation of antiquity can operate as a mechanism of influence, legitimacy, and normative authority in an increasingly multipolar world.

Theoretical Framework: Soft Power and Heritage Diplomacy

Joseph Nye defined soft power as a country’s capacity to influence others through attraction rather than coercion or payment.¹ This form of power is deeply rooted in the appeal of a nation’s culture, political values, and foreign policies. Cultural diplomacy is a primary mechanism through which soft power is operationalized, utilizing cultural expressions, historical narratives, and artistic heritage to foster mutual understanding, trust, and normative influence on the global stage.

Within this broader framework, heritage diplomacy emerges as a strategic subset that mobilizes ancient and historical cultural assets to achieve foreign policy objectives. Unlike transient contemporary cultural products, ancient heritage carries profound symbolic capital that transcends time and place, anchored in its enduring historical significance and universal human resonance. Greece’s ancient civilization—renowned for foundational contributions to democracy, philosophy, literature, art, and legal thought—constitutes a potent reservoir of such symbolic capital.

By foregrounding this legacy, Greece does more than celebrate its past; it engages in identity politics that reinforce historical legitimacy and normative authority internationally. Heritage diplomacy thus operates at the intersection of culture and power, enabling Greece to craft and disseminate a compelling narrative that positions it as an indispensable progenitor of Western civilization and custodian of universal values. As Goff argues, heritage diplomacy transcends mere cultural promotion, becoming a sophisticated instrument of international normative influence that shapes global discourses on democracy, human rights, and civilization.²

This theoretical foundation situates Greece’s strategic heritage diplomacy within international relations theory, highlighting the convergence of soft power and cultural diplomacy to enhance national prestige and political leverage in an interconnected world.

Historical Context of Greek Heritage Diplomacy

Greek heritage diplomacy traces its origins to the 19th century, particularly the War of Independence (1821–1829). The newly established Greek state sought to reclaim and emphasize its classical past to consolidate national identity and secure international recognition. The rediscovery and preservation of ancient monuments became central to forging a cohesive national identity, serving as tangible evidence of continuity from antiquity to the modern era.³

Throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, Greece consistently invoked its classical legacy in diplomatic efforts to establish cultural prestige. This manifested in various forms—from lobbying for the protection of archaeological sites to pursuing the return of cultural artifacts, most famously the ongoing dispute over the Parthenon Marbles housed in the British Museum. These efforts reflect a broader commitment to cultural patrimony as a matter of national dignity and international law.^{4 5}

Following World War II, Greece institutionalized heritage diplomacy within its foreign policy, coordinating efforts through the Ministry of Culture and Sports alongside the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The state promoted Greek culture globally via exhibitions, bilateral cultural agreements, and engagement with multilateral organizations such as UNESCO. The 2004 Athens Olympic Games symbolically linked Greece’s ancient history with modern global diplomacy and sport, exemplifying heritage diplomacy’s integration into official statecraft.⁶

Case Studies Illustrating Ancient Greek Heritage Diplomacy

Greece is home to 19 UNESCO World Heritage Sites, including iconic locations such as the Acropolis, Delphi, Olympia, and Mycenae. Beyond their role in attracting tourism, these sites symbolize Greece’s immense contributions to humanity’s cultural heritage. Greece actively leverages its participation in UNESCO forums to advocate for heritage preservation, foster multilateral cooperation, and promote cultural dialogue. Such engagement enhances Greece’s diplomatic visibility, cultivates goodwill, and positions the country as a steward of universal cultural values. The Athens Olympics in 2004 represented a landmark moment for Greek heritage diplomacy. Framed as the revival of the ancient Olympic tradition, the Games underscored Greece’s central role in the origins of the Olympic movement and global sport. Beyond spectacle, the event served as a strategic diplomatic platform to project Greece’s historical narrative worldwide, bolster national pride, and attract tourism revenue.⁷

Greece engages in archaeological diplomacy through bilateral collaborations with countries sharing Mediterranean historical ties, such as Egypt. Joint excavations, exhibitions, and academic exchanges create avenues for cultural diplomacy that transcend political tensions and foster regional bonds. These collaborations highlight shared ancient legacies, facilitating cultural understanding and political cooperation.^{8 9} Greece’s persistent diplomatic campaign for the repatriation of the Parthenon Marbles from the British Museum exemplifies heritage diplomacy in practice. The Greek government employs international forums, cultural events, and UNESCO channels to raise awareness and exert diplomatic pressure. This campaign demonstrates how ancient artifacts serve as powerful soft power symbols, reinforcing national identity and international solidarity. Greece’s narrative emphasizes universal cultural heritage, respect for original context, and ethical stewardship—resonating globally beyond political divides.^{10 11}

International Power Projection

Greek ancient heritage diplomacy significantly enhances the country’s diplomatic influence by reinforcing its global reputation as the cradle of Western civilization. This heritage acts as a bridge across cultures and political divides, enabling Greece to participate meaningfully in international dialogues centered on shared human values. Through cultural diplomacy, Greece projects an image of stability, historical continuity, and normative authority—translating into soft power leverage within forums such as the European Union, the United Nations, and Mediterranean regional organizations.¹²

Heritage diplomacy also enables Greece to assert normative leadership. By positioning itself as a protector of cultural patrimony and promoter of cultural dialogue, Greece crafts a diplomatic identity grounded in ethical stewardship and global responsibility. This moral dimension strengthens broader foreign policy goals, particularly in negotiations related to cultural property, migration, and regional security.¹³

Political Impact of Heritage Diplomacy

Domestically, heritage diplomacy strengthens Greek national identity and social cohesion by linking contemporary society to its ancient roots. The celebration of ancient heritage through education, public discourse, and state ceremonies nurtures a shared sense of pride and historical continuity.¹⁴

Politically, heritage diplomacy underpins Greece’s role as a cultural mediator between East and West, enhancing its influence in the geopolitically sensitive Eastern Mediterranean, where cultural and historical claims often intersect with political tensions. The symbolic capital derived from Greece’s ancient heritage allows it to engage regional neighbors and global powers alike from a position of normative strength.¹⁵

Additionally, heritage diplomacy plays a key role in contentious issues such as cultural artifact repatriation. Greece’s ongoing campaign for the Parthenon Marbles exemplifies the intersection of heritage diplomacy with national sovereignty and international law—serving as a critical test of Greece’s ability to transform cultural diplomacy into tangible political outcomes.

Economic Impact of Greek Heritage Diplomacy

The economic benefits of Greece’s heritage diplomacy are substantial, with cultural tourism representing a major pillar of the national economy. Prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, tourism accounted for approximately 20% of Greece’s GDP and employed one in five Greeks, with ancient heritage sites drawing millions of visitors annually.¹⁶ For example, the Acropolis attracts over two million visitors per year, generating revenue not only through admission fees but also through related sectors such as hospitality, transportation, and retail.

International exhibitions, cultural festivals, and digital initiatives further stimulate economic activity by attracting foreign investment and nurturing cultural industries. These efforts create jobs and promote sustainable development around archaeological sites.¹⁷

Moreover, heritage diplomacy bolsters Greece’s creative industries—including publishing, film, and handicrafts—that thrive on rich historical narratives. By branding ancient heritage as a valuable cultural asset, Greece enhances its international competitiveness and fosters economic diversification.¹⁸

Strategic Recommendations 

To fully capitalize on its ancient heritage as a diplomatic asset, Greece should adopt a coherent and multifaceted strategy that integrates cultural diplomacy into its broader foreign policy framework. This entails expanding multilateral partnerships by collaborating with Mediterranean and European nations that share classical legacies, thereby coordinating preservation initiatives, advocacy efforts, and cultural exchanges that reinforce the global value of ancient civilizations. Embracing digital innovation is equally essential: the development of immersive virtual reality experiences, interactive exhibitions, and curated social media narratives can engage diasporic communities and younger audiences while democratizing access and modernizing outreach. Institutionalizing heritage diplomacy through the establishment of dedicated units within the Ministry of Foreign Affairs—working in close cooperation with the Ministry of Culture, embassies, academic institutions, and museums—would ensure strategic alignment and policy coherence. 

In parallel, Greece should invest in cultural infrastructure by enhancing regional museums, funding archaeological research, and supporting heritage conservation initiatives with an emphasis on accessibility, education, and innovation. Furthermore, promoting public-private partnerships by collaborating with multinational technology firms, luxury brands, and philanthropic foundations can amplify efforts to digitize and disseminate Greek cultural heritage on a global scale. Taken together, these measures would enable Greece to strengthen its soft power, foster international goodwill, and secure durable political and economic dividends.

Conclusion

Greece’s ancient heritage constitutes an invaluable asset for projecting soft power through heritage diplomacy. Rooted in the country’s rich historical legacy, this form of cultural diplomacy fosters international cooperation, reinforces national identity, and enhances Greece’s standing on the global stage. As Greece navigates the challenges of the 21st century—including geopolitical tensions and economic pressures—leveraging its ancient heritage thoughtfully and strategically remains key to sustaining its influence and contributing meaningfully to global cultural dialogue.

This study underscores the multidimensional impact of heritage diplomacy, inviting policymakers and scholars to deepen analysis and support for such initiatives. The enduring legacy of Greece’s ancient civilization not only enriches humanity’s cultural tapestry but also serves as a beacon of soft power and diplomacy in an increasingly complex world.

1. Joseph S. Nye, Soft Power: The Means to Success in World Politics (New York: PublicAffairs, 2004). ↩︎
2. Patricia Goff, “Heritage Diplomacy and Normative Power in International Relations,” European Journal of Cultural Studies 20, no. 5 (2017): 516–532. ↩︎
3. P. Kitromilides, “Enlightenment and Revolution in Greece,” Journal of Modern Greek Studies 8, no. 1 (1990): 3–30. ↩︎
4. Michael Herzfeld, “The Greek State and Archaeological Heritage: Nationalism and Cultural Property,” American Ethnologist 14, no. 2 (1987): 286–300. ↩︎
5. Michael Vickers, “Repatriation and Cultural Diplomacy: The Case of the Parthenon Marbles,” Museum International 73, no. 1–2 (2021): 36–48. ↩︎
6. Jonathan Grix and Paul Brannagan, “The Olympics, Soft Power and Heritage Diplomacy: The Case of Athens 2004,” International Journal of Sport Policy and Politics 8, no. 1 (2016): 79–94. ↩︎
7. Kevin Toohey and Anthony Veal, The Olympic Games: A Social Science Perspective (CABI, 2007). ↩︎
8. Jan Assmann, “Cultural Memory and Cultural Diplomacy: The Case of Ancient Heritage,” International Journal of Cultural Policy 17, no. 3 (2011): 291–307. ↩︎
9. Eleni Sazakli, “Archaeological Diplomacy in the Mediterranean: Greek-Egyptian Cooperation,” Mediterranean Quarterly 30, no. 4 (2019): 88–105. ↩︎
10. Yannis Hamilakis, “The Politics of the Parthenon Marbles,” Antiquity 87, no. 337 (2013): 759–73. ↩︎
11. Maria Papadopoulos, “The Parthenon Marbles Dispute: Cultural Diplomacy and International Law,” International Journal of Cultural Property 24, no. 2 (2017): 123–46. ↩︎
12. Kostas Kostis, “Greece’s Cultural Diplomacy and the European Union,” Mediterranean Politics 19, no. 2 (2014): 285–302. ↩︎
13. Yiannis Papadakis, “Heritage Diplomacy and Regional Stability in the Eastern Mediterranean,” Geopolitics 23, no. 3 (2018): 591–611. ↩︎
14. Konstantinos Anagnostopoulos, “National Identity and Cultural Heritage in Modern Greece,” Journal of Mediterranean Studies 25, no. 2 (2016): 141–60. ↩︎
15. Panagiotis Tsakonas, “Greece’s Cultural Identity and Geopolitical Strategy in the Eastern Mediterranean,” Journal of Balkan and Near Eastern Studies 17, no. 2 (2015): 127–42. ↩︎
16. Bank of Greece, Tourism and the Greek Economy: Statistical Overview (Athens: Bank of Greece Publications, 2019). ↩︎
17. OECD, Cultural Heritage and Economic Development in Greece (Paris: OECD Publishing, 2021). ↩︎
18. Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports, Cultural Industries and Heritage Preservation Report (Athens, 2023). ↩︎

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Acropolis of Athens, Image sourced from Finestre sull’Arte | CC License, no changes made