par Guan Jianbin

La réunion annuelle du Club de discussion de Valdai constitue depuis longtemps une tribune importante permettant au président russe Vladimir Poutine d’expliquer la logique qui sous-tend la politique étrangère de la Russie et de faire connaître les intentions stratégiques du pays. Le «discours de Valdai» de cette année s’est révélé moins passionné et plus mesuré, alliant un récit historique de grande envergure à des limites stratégiques clairement définies.

En lisant entre les lignes des remarques soigneusement calibrées de Poutine, on peut discerner son évaluation stratégique de l’avenir des relations de la Russie avec l’Occident et de l’évolution de l’ordre géopolitique mondial — un équilibre entre la dissuasion par la force et une ambiguïté diplomatique délibérée.

Depuis la création du Club de discussion de Valdai en 2004, Poutine y a participé presque chaque année, que ce soit pour prononcer un discours, assister à un déjeuner, prendre part à une séance de questions-réponses ou participer à des tables rondes. Ses interventions sont devenues une tradition importante de la diplomatie russe et une fenêtre essentielle permettant au monde extérieur de mieux cerner sa pensée stratégique. Un examen des différents «discours de Valdai» prononcés par Poutine révèle l’évolution de la stratégie de politique étrangère de la Russie sur plus de deux décennies, retrace les contours changeants de son analyse des affaires étrangères et met en lumière la trajectoire de l’évolution de sa perception de «l’Occident».

De «l’Occident unique» aux «deux Occidents»

L’un des messages importants véhiculés par le discours de Poutine en 2026 a été la définition d’une ligne rouge claire face à la volonté de l’Occident de parvenir à la «défaite stratégique» de la Russie. Il a averti que la poursuite d’une telle défaite serait extrêmement dangereuse et pourrait faire basculer le conflit russo-ukrainien dans une phase encore plus brutale et incontrôlable. Il ne s’agissait pas simplement d’une intimidation verbale ; cela représentait la ligne rouge que Poutine a fixée pour la survie du pays.

Selon la logique des dirigeants russes, l’usure sur le champ de bataille, les sanctions prolongées et la pression géopolitique sont des coûts qu’une grande puissance peut supporter dans un affrontement stratégique. Mais la «défaite stratégique» — c’est-à-dire un changement de régime, la désintégration de l’État ou la perte de la position géopolitique de la Russie — constitue une ligne rouge intangible. En tant que puissance nucléaire, une fois que la Russie sera acculée, il n’y aura plus aucune marge de manœuvre pour faire reculer une nouvelle escalade. La position exprimée par Poutine était claire : la Russie peut accepter une impasse prolongée et supporter les sanctions et l’endiguement occidentaux, mais elle n’acceptera jamais d’être vaincue de manière totale ni contrainte à la soumission. Si l’Occident insiste pour franchir cette ligne rouge, il portera la responsabilité de toutes les conséquences catastrophiques qui s’ensuivront.

Le recours continu de Poutine au concept des «deux Occidents», qu’il avait pour la première fois mis en avant en 2022, revêt une importance particulière : il distingue les forces de l’élite néolibérale, qui poursuivent une nouvelle forme de colonialisme, de la sphère civilisationnelle occidentale traditionnelle. Lors de la réunion de Valdai en 2022, il avait affirmé qu’«il existe au moins deux Occidents différents : l’un est traditionnel, doté d’un patrimoine culturel très riche ; l’autre est agressif et néocolonial». En réitérant cette distinction, Poutine a cherché à préciser que la Russie n’est pas en guerre contre la civilisation occidentale dans son ensemble. Son opposition vise plutôt les forces qui mènent des politiques d’endiguement, d’encerclement et de coercition hégémonique. De cette manière, Moscou tente de se créer un espace diplomatique et de préserver une marge de manœuvre stratégique.

Cette déclaration visait également à contester le discours, cultivé en Occident depuis de nombreuses années, selon lequel la Russie serait «en guerre contre le monde entier». La Russie identifie soigneusement ses adversaires et limite sa confrontation aux forces hégémoniques occidentales qui prônent l’unilatéralisme et le monopole géopolitique — et non aux citoyens occidentaux ordinaires. D’une part, cette stratégie vise à diviser le camp occidental et à affaiblir le consensus interne contre la Russie. D’autre part, elle laisse la porte ouverte à un futur dialogue entre la Russie et l’Europe ainsi qu’à un éventuel apaisement des tensions russo-américaines, offrant ainsi à Moscou une plus grande souplesse dans ses calculs diplomatiques.

De «l’intégration à l’Occident» à «l’équilibre face à l’Occident»

Un examen des discours successifs de Poutine à Valdai montre clairement que, durant les premières années de son règne, la Russie a activement envoyé des signaux de coopération aux États-Unis et à l’Europe et cherché à s’intégrer au système occidental. Elle n’a pas reçu la réponse qu’elle attendait. Au contraire, elle a été confrontée à des pressions géopolitiques persistantes, à des confrontations militaires, à des sanctions économiques et à ce qu’elle percevait comme une infiltration idéologique. À mesure que les attentes russes restaient les unes après les autres insatisfaites, sa perception de l’Occident a évolué, passant de l’espoir et de la confiance à la déception, puis finalement vers un équilibre stratégique et la confrontation.

De 2004 à 2012, Poutine a accepté l’ordre international existant et a activement recherché la coopération avec l’Occident, tout en défendant la souveraineté de la Russie et son statut de grande puissance. Il s’est opposé à l’élargissement de l’OTAN, à l’ingérence de forces extérieures dans les affaires intérieures de la Russie et à la propagation des «révolutions de couleur». Il a présenté la Russie comme une puissance eurasienne, soulignant qu’elle ne souhaitait ni dépendre de l’Occident ni s’y opposer. Il cherchait plutôt à établir une relation de partenariat entre égaux, fondée sur le respect mutuel.

Dans le même temps, Poutine a insisté sur le fait que l’Europe de l’Est et les anciennes républiques soviétiques constituaient la sphère d’intérêts principale de la Russie. Il a averti que l’élargissement effréné de l’OTAN vers l’Est saperait l’architecture de sécurité européenne, a critiqué l’unilatéralisme et les deux poids deux mesures, et a remis en question la légitimité d’un système de règles dominé par l’Occident. Pour autant, la Russie n’avait nullement l’intention de servir de fer de lance à un mouvement «anti-occidental». Poutine a présenté des propositions visant à créer un espace européen commun et à développer un partenariat modernisé avec l’Occident.

De 2013 à 2017, dans un contexte de troubles en Ukraine et d’annexion de la Crimée par la Russie, l’opposition de Moscou à l’élargissement de l’OTAN est passée de la dénonciation verbale à la confrontation géopolitique. Lors du Forum de Valdai de 2013, Poutine a attribué le désordre des affaires internationales à l’arrogance institutionnelle des vainqueurs de la Guerre froide et a critiqué ce qu’il a qualifié de déclin moral de certains pays occidentaux. Dans son discours de 2016, il a réaffirmé que la Russie n’avait aucune intention de rivaliser pour l’hégémonie mondiale et a appelé à une sécurité égale et indivisible pour tous les pays. En 2017, Poutine a tiré les leçons des relations entre la Russie et l’Occident, affirmant que la plus grande erreur de la Russie avait été sa «confiance excessive» envers l’Occident, qui avait interprété cette confiance comme une faiblesse et en avait tiré parti.

De 2018 à 2021, l’ordre du jour du Forum de Valdai s’est élargi, passant du «désordre de l’Occident» à la «montée de l’Orient» et à la «transformation mondiale». Il ne s’agissait pas simplement d’un déplacement du centre de gravité géographique du monde. Cela reflétait également la tendance croissante de la Russie à considérer l’Orient comme un centre de pouvoir et un point de référence civilisationnel, tout en affirmant son identité en tant que civilisation indépendante.

À mesure que les contradictions entre la Russie et l’Occident s’intensifiaient, le ton des discours de Poutine est passé de la «recherche de la coopération» à la «reconnaissance de la confrontation et à l’établissement de lignes rouges». En 2021, il a fait valoir qu’après la fin de la Guerre froide, certains pays avaient tenté d’exclure complètement la Russie, alors même que sa puissance nationale globale n’avait pas décliné. La Russie ne se contentait plus d’accepter passivement les arrangements imposés par l’ordre international ; elle souhaitait participer à l’élaboration des règles. Poutine a déclaré sans détour que le monde unipolaire dominé par l’Occident avait pris fin, et que des notions telles que les «valeurs universelles» et un «ordre fondé sur des règles» étaient des instruments d’hégémonie. Il a proposé un «système eurasien de sécurité égalitaire et indivisible» et a souligné que la Russie ne se faisait plus d’illusions quant à son intégration à l’Occident.

Le thème de la réunion annuelle de Valdai de 2022 était «Un monde post-hégémonique : justice et sécurité pour tous». Poutine a déclaré que l’humanité traversait la décennie la plus dangereuse, la plus imprévisible et la plus lourde de conséquences depuis la fin de la Seconde Guerre mondiale, et que le monde se trouvait à un tournant historique, dans la transition d’un ordre à un autre. Il a dénoncé l’«ordre fondé sur des règles» comme un prolongement de la pensée coloniale, arguant que l’Occident lui-même était une entité complexe et diversifiée en son sein et que le système néolibéral était entré dans une crise théorique et systémique profonde. Dans le même temps, il a réaffirmé que la Russie ne remettait pas en cause la civilisation occidentale légitime et ne cherchait pas la confrontation avec l’Occident pour elle-même. Toutes les actions de la Russie, a-t-il soutenu, étaient motivées par la nécessité de défendre son droit à la survie et au développement.

De 2023 à 2024, Poutine a déclaré que la Russie avait définitivement rompu avec sa dépendance vis-à-vis de l’Europe, accéléré son recentrage vers l’Est, reconstruit des chaînes d’approvisionnement industrielles autonomes et élargi son réseau géopolitique de partenaires. Selon l’évaluation de Moscou, la puissance globale de l’Europe était en déclin et son autonomie stratégique restait insuffisante. La Russie devait donc se tourner de plus en plus vers des plateformes de coopération émergentes telles que les BRICS et l’Organisation de coopération de Shanghai.

En 2023, puis à nouveau en 2024, Poutine a systématiquement exposé six principes régissant le nouveau type de relations internationales prôné par la Russie : la coopération ouverte ; la diversité des civilisations ; une large représentation dans la gouvernance mondiale ; une sécurité égale pour tous ; l’équité et la justice internationales ; et le respect du droit de chaque pays à choisir sa propre voie de développement. Il a également fait valoir que les sanctions, l’isolement et l’endiguement ne pourraient pas freiner le développement de la Russie et que les instruments traditionnels de l’hégémonie occidentale perdaient progressivement de leur efficacité.

Lors de la réunion de 2025, le ton de Poutine est devenu plus rationnel et plus modéré, mettant davantage l’accent sur la gestion des risques et la désescalade. Il a déclaré que la normalisation des relations entre les États-Unis et la Russie servirait les intérêts nationaux de cette dernière et que Moscou n’avait pas complètement fermé la porte au dialogue. Dans le même temps, il a averti que les livraisons européennes de missiles à longue portée à l’Ukraine ne feraient qu’accroître les risques d’escalade et ne changeraient en rien la situation sur le champ de bataille. Il a appelé l’Europe à renoncer à la confrontation entre blocs et à rétablir un équilibre sécuritaire sur l’ensemble du continent eurasien.

De «se tourner vers l’Ouest» à «se tourner vers l’Est»

Dans l’ordre international, l’Orient s’oppose à l’Occident. Depuis des siècles, la Russie est engagée dans un débat de longue haleine sur son identité civilisationnelle : est-elle occidentale ou orientale ? La Russie occupe une position géopolitique et civilisationnelle particulière. Du point de vue occidental, elle appartient à l’Orient ; du point de vue oriental, elle appartient à l’Occident. Pendant la majeure partie de son histoire, elle a oscillé entre ces deux sphères civilisationnelles.

Comme l’a écrit Surkov, ancien conseiller principal de Poutine et penseur conservateur, dans Les cent ans de solitude de la Russie :

«La Russie a passé quatre siècles à se diriger vers l’Est et quatre siècles à se diriger vers l’Ouest. Elle n’a jamais pris racine ni à l’Est ni à l’Ouest. Ces deux voies ont désormais été parcourues. La Russie doit explorer une troisième voie, une troisième civilisation, un troisième monde, une troisième Rome…»

L’attirance de la Russie pour l’Occident a constitué un projet identitaire poursuivi à travers les générations successives. L’intégration à l’Occident fut autrefois une aspiration historique chère aux Russes. Des efforts de Pierre le Grand pour «apprendre de l’Europe occidentale» aux premières tentatives de Poutine pour «se rapprocher de l’Occident», l’occidentalisation est restée un fil conducteur central du développement de la Russie. Pourtant, l’histoire a montré à maintes reprises qu’un ralliement total à l’Occident a peu de chances d’aboutir à une véritable égalité ou acceptation. À l’époque d’Eltsine, la Russie a adopté les modèles occidentaux presque dans leur intégralité, pour finalement voir son espace géopolitique progressivement restreint par l’expansion continue de l’OTAN vers l’Est.

Au cours de son premier mandat présidentiel, Poutine considérait la Russie comme faisant partie de la civilisation européenne et avait fait de «l’intégration à l’Occident» une priorité de sa politique étrangère. Il a toutefois systématiquement rejeté l’idée de remodeler le système politique russe selon les normes occidentales. Les attentes diplomatiques ayant été déçues à maintes reprises, la perception que la Russie avait de l’Occident est devenue de plus en plus négative.

Lors du Forum de Valdai de cette année, on a demandé à Poutine si l’Union européenne devait être démantelée. Sur un ton taquin, il a répondu : «Ce n’est pas nécessaire. Elle s’effondrera d’elle-même». Cette remarque reflétait l’analyse russe selon laquelle les difficultés actuelles de l’Occident n’étaient pas simplement des crises locales ou temporaires, mais la preuve d’un déclin systémique au niveau institutionnel. L’angle d’analyse de Moscou s’est élargi, passant du «déclin de la puissance américaine» au «déclin du camp occidental dans son ensemble».

Depuis le déclenchement de la crise ukrainienne, les relations entre la Russie et l’Occident sont plongées dans une atmosphère de «nouvelle guerre froide». Les deux parties se considèrent de plus en plus comme des menaces pour leur sécurité, tandis que leurs liens économiques traditionnels continuent de s’affaiblir. La Russie en est venue à reconnaître que la possibilité réaliste de s’intégrer à l’Occident a pratiquement disparu. Des termes tels que «non-occidental» et «post-occidental» ont par conséquent pris une place de plus en plus importante dans le vocabulaire politique russe.

Aujourd’hui, une réorientation stratégique globale est devenue une caractéristique déterminante de la politique étrangère russe. Dans un contexte de tensions persistantes dans les relations de la Russie avec les États-Unis et l’Europe, Moscou développe vigoureusement sa coopération avec la région Asie-Pacifique et les pays émergents. Concrètement, elle a choisi de se tourner vers l’Est après s’être heurtée à des obstacles en Occident, dans l’espoir de parvenir à un résultat diplomatique où «lorsque l’Occident n’offre pas de lumière, l’Orient le fait».

Cependant, même si le centre de gravité stratégique de la Russie se déplace vers l’Est, l’Occident reste une question que Moscou ne peut éviter. Se tourner vers l’Est ne signifie pas abandonner complètement l’Occident. Les liens géopolitiques, énergétiques et historiques entre la Russie et l’Europe continuent d’exister en tant que réalités objectives.

Les discours successifs de Poutine à Valdai donnent un aperçu de l’incertitude et des questionnements de longue date du pays quant à son identité nationale. De la «recherche d’une intégration avec l’Occident» à «l’équilibre stratégique face à l’Occident», et du «non-occidental» au «post-occidental», la quête d’identité du pays entre l’Orient et l’Occident continuera d’influencer l’évolution de l’ordre mondial.

Dans les années à venir, la stratégie hybride de la Russie en matière de politique étrangère — alliant dissuasion vis-à-vis de l’Occident et expansion vers l’Est — ainsi que sa diplomatie flexible orientée simultanément dans ces deux directions, continueront de façonner les arrangements de sécurité eurasiens et l’avènement d’un monde davantage multipolaire.

Publié à l’origine par China Beyond the Wall.
Traduction: Reseau International

A diferença entre um ateu sóbrio e um ateu New Age parece ser mais uma questão de temperamento do que de filosofia, assim como a diferença entre ateu e agnóstico no século XIX.

Junte-se a nós no Telegram , X e VK.

Escreva para nós: info@strategic-culture.su

Amigos estranharam a minha qualificação de Darwin como único grande cientista inequivocamente ateu, pois ele se considerava agnóstico. Eu confesso que tendo a apagar esse rótulo da minha cabeça, porque a distinção formal entre ateísmo e agnosticismo presumida por ele – a saber, que o agnóstico não sabe se Deus existe, enquanto o ateu sabe que Deus não existe – não tem correspondência na realidade, pois não tenho notícias de um único ateu famoso que pretenda provar a inexistência divina. Nem Dawkins, o ateu mais caricato da mídia, diz que isso é possível. Em Deus, um delírio, cap. 2, ele se consideram um ateu de facto, definido pelo mote: “Eu não tenho como saber com certeza, mas acho que Deus é muito improvável, e vivo segundo a premissa de que ele não existe.” Assim, se levarmos em conta a distinção tradicional, o ateu mais famoso do mundo não é ateu, mas agnóstico.

Outra figura com postura similar é a de Bertrand Russell, com sua famosa analogia do bule voador. Podemos provar que não há um bule em órbita dando voltas ao redor do planeta? Não. Mas não temos nenhum motivo para acreditar que tal bule exista. Deus é como esse bule: não dá para provar que ele não existe, mas não é razoável acreditar que exista. Por isso, Russell se considerava agnóstico na teoria e ateu na prática.

Darwin

Se o termo “agnóstico” tem serventia, é para descrever as pessoas que de fato vivem em estado de dúvida quanto à existência de Deus. Charles Darwin (1809 – 1882) era filho de pai deísta e de uma unitarista. O deísmo consiste em negar toda religião institucionalizada e afirmar que Deus existe, porém não se importa com a humanidade. Sendo um inglês do século XVIII, o pai de Darwin muito provavelmente acreditava no Grande Arquiteto de Newton e dos maçons. O unitarismo é um novo sabor do arianismo, pois nega a divindade de Jesus e tem-no como um grande reformador moral, equiparável a Sócrates. Os unitaristas tomaram Harvard no século XIX, e Newton era secretamente arianista. Podemos então dizer que Darwin não teve um lar propriamente cristão; ainda assim, ele pensou muito em ser pastor anglicano e se casou com uma cristã fervorosa. Sem dúvida, Darwin passou por crises de fé, o que fez dele um agnóstico nesse sentido que descreve o estado psicológico.

Até onde se sabe, primeira vez em que ele se descreve como agnóstico é em 1879, aos 70 anos, numa carta privada a John Fordyce. Segundo relatos, em 1881 ele afirmou a um grupo de livres pensadores que nunca abandonou o cristianismo até os quarenta anos de idade (o que seria o ano de 1849). Teria ele abandonado o cristianismo e adotado as crenças do pai e depois abandonado até mesmo ela? Não conheço a resposta, mas é uma questão vital para a trajetória científica de Darwin, pois pelos rótulos de hoje Newton seria um criacionista ou defensor do design inteligente pelos rótulos de hoje.

O depoimento mais iluminador é o da sua autobiografia, redigida entre 1876 e 1881 para a sua família. Cito James Moore em “Mito 16: Que a evolução destruiu a fé de Darwin – até que ele se converteu novamente no leito de morte”: “Não disposto a abrir mão do cristianismo, ele havia tentado ‘inventar evidências’ para confirmar os Evangelhos, o que prolongou sua indecisão. Assim como sua carreira como ministro religioso havia sofrido uma lenta ‘morte natural’, sua fé também foi mirrando gradualmente. Mas não houve retorno após o golpe de morte. Sua hesitação se cristalizou em uma convicção moral tão forte que ele não via como alguém – nem mesmo [a esposa] Emma – ‘pudesse desejar que o cristianismo fosse verdade’. Pois se fosse, ‘a linguagem pura e simples’ do Novo Testamento ‘parece mostrar que os homens que não creem, e isto incluiria meu pai, irmão e quase todos os meus amigos, serão punidos por toda a eternidade. E esta é uma doutrina maldita.’ Em anos posteriores o teísmo original evidente em As Origem das Espécies se desgastou, e agora, ‘sem crença segura e persistente na existência de um Deus pessoal ou na existência futura como retribuição e prêmio’, Darwin sentia que deveria ‘se contentar em permanecer agnóstico’.” O pai de Darwin, marco para a crise de fé, morreu em 1848, um ano antes dos quarenta anos.

Darwin não morreu indeciso; ele morreu decidido de que o cristianismo era imoral porque mandaria seus entes queridos para o inferno. Se o termo “agnosticismo” se aplica, é para estabelecer um estado de ignorância após a negação de Deus tal como as religiões abraâmicas o reconhecem. Darwin sabe que a Bíblia está errada e que seu Deus não existe. Mas o que é Deus ou qual a verdade, ele não sabe.

Por certo, o descobrir o estado final de Darwin não é suficiente para descobrir o impacto de suas cambiantes convicções religiosas sobre seu pensamento, já que a redação de A origem das espécies (1859) durou duas décadas.

A origem do termo “agnosticismo”

Entre o início da descrença de Darwin e sua primeira autodeclaração como agnóstico, passaram-se nada menos que trinta anos. Uma razão simples para ele não ter usado esse termo cedo é que ele não tinha sido inventado. Pouco se menciona isso, mas “agnosticismo” é um termo com inventor e data de nascimento: em 1869, quando Darwin tinha já 60 anos, Thomas Henry Huxley (vulgo “Buldogue de Darwin”, avô de Aldous, o escritor apologista de abertura da mente via drogas, e de Julian, o eugenista fundador do WWF e primeiro UNESCO), inventou o termo numa reunião da Sociedade Metafísica, uma sociedade algo secreta da qual só participavam membros convidados. Darwin não era membro. O supracitado Bertrand Russell tinha um parente deísta que era membro: Lord Arthur Russell, sobrinho do Conde John Russell, avô de Bertrand. Arthur Balfour, da Declaração Balfour, também era membro. Eu não podia estar lá porque eu não era nascida, mas a Enciclopédia Britânica diz que a invenção ocorreu em tais circunstâncias, então eu acredito.

Uma definição pública do agnosticismo pelo vovô Huxley foi oferecida ao público pela primeira vez em 1889, na revista Popular Science (ou Pop Science), que existe até hoje. Ei-la: “O agnosticismo, de fato, não é um credo, mas um método, cuja essência reside na rigorosa aplicação de um único princípio. Esse princípio é de grande antiguidade; é tão velho quanto Sócrates; tão velho quanto o escritor que disse ‘Examinai tudo, retende o que é bom’ [1 Tess. 5,21]; é a fundação da Reforma, que simplesmente ilustrou o axioma de que a todo homem deveria ser dada uma razão para a fé que está nele; é o grande princípio de Descartes; é o axioma fundamental da ciência moderna. Positivamente, o princípio pode ser expresso assim: Em questões intelectuais, siga a razão até onde ela lhe levar, sem se preocupar com nenhuma outra consideração. E negativamente, assim: Em questões intelectuais, não ter a pretensão de que as conclusões que não são demonstradas ou demonstráveis são certas. Isto eu tenho por fé agnóstica, que, se o homem mantiver íntegra e incorrupta, não há de se envergonhar em olhar o universo face a face, independente do que o futuro lhe reserve.”

Por essa definição, não há nenhuma relação óbvia com uma postura perante à questão da existência divina, mas o conjunto do texto deixa implícita da negativa: de cabo a rabo, Huxley diferenciar a si próprio de Comte, e o agnosticismo da Religião da Humanidade comteana. Ele precisa se diferenciar porque são iguais a descrença em um Deus abrâmico, o cientificismo e o triunfalismo à la Fim da História. As diferenças, que Comte e os positivistas eram cientistas medíocres e criaram uma igreja de estrutura inspirada no catolicismo, ao passo que os agnósticos ingleses do XIX eram brilhantes e não tinham nenhuma intenção de fundar uma igreja.

Cabe apontar o sabor unitarista da retórica, que visa a traçar uma linhagem racionalista e contestadora que surge em Sócrates, atravessa a Bíblia e chega ao seu pináculo na atualidade, destituída de sobrenaturalidade. Outra figura importante do XIX inglês que a adotava era John Stuart Mill, em Sobre a liberdade. A esposa e colaboradora dele era unitarista.

E, é claro, vemos aí a oposição – talvez, sem precedentes históricos – entre ter espírito científico e crer em Deus. Podemos dizer que o Buldogue de Darwin, durante a vida de Darwin, ostracizou o deísmo da ciência, já que a Evolução era apresentada como refutação da existência do Arquiteto newtoniano.

Questão de termos

No frigir dos ovos, Thomas Huxley era o que hoje entendemos por ateu – e provavelmente também Darwin, já que ele escolheu o termo criado pelo amigo para designar a própria posição. O engraçado é que nem mesmo Comte se dizia ateu. Ao que parece, o espírito do ateísmo e do cientificismo eram generalizados na intelectualidade do XIX, mas a disposição a assumir o rótulo se limitava a radicais como Friedrich Engels, Karl Marx (cuja dissertação, de 1841, foi sobre Demócrito e Epicuro, pais do materialismo) e Mikhail Bakunin. Provavelmente, a diferença entre os termos “ateu” e “agnóstico” naquela época se limitava à disposição de chocar a sociedade. Nem os positivistas franceses, nem os evolucionistas ingleses, queriam chocar. Já os comunistas e anarquistas queriam.

Com o tempo, no XXI, ser ateu não choca mais ninguém; nos círculos mais estudados, é a norma. Daí a disposição a enterrar o termo “agnóstico”, ou reservá-lo às pessoas que estejam num real estado de dúvida.

Outra questão semântica é o que entendemos por Deus. Há quem diga coisas como “para mim, Deus é energia” – daí a gente se pergunta se faz sentido dizer que Deus é isso que faz o meu ventilador girar e depois aparece na conta de luz. Nos Estados Unidos, um dos poucos países ocidentais no qual ainda é possível chocar dizendo-se ateu, é comum as pessoas se rotularem como “spiritual, but not religious” (espiritual, mas não religiosa), e tipicamente essas pessoas vão atrás de esoterismos – cristais, horóscopo, meditação zen, gurus tão feios quanto tarados etc. – sem aderir a nenhuma religião particular. Isso só pode ser herança do deísmo, até porque a maçonaria tem uma grande importância na formação do país e é deísta. Não à toa, esse deísmo do século XXI pode se confundir com o ateísmo, como os seus predecessores renascentistas, os libertinos. Sam Harris mesmo é um ateu adepto do New Age.

Agora, não deixa de ser uma ironia histórica que um dos inventores do termo “psicodelia” (do grego, “revelação mental”) seja neto do inventor do termo “agnosticismo”. Parece que uma parcela da humanidade não desiste de experiências extáticas e de revelações mesmo quando abandona a transcendência divina e, assim passa a procurá-la na matéria. A diferença entre um ateu sóbrio e um ateu New Age parece ser mais uma questão de temperamento do que de filosofia, assim como a diferença entre ateu e agnóstico no século XIX.

No hay forma de luchar contra el Imperio sin eludir su control sobre el sistema financiero internacional.

Únete a nosotros en Telegram , X y VK .

Escríbenos: info@strategic-culture.su

Ya se ha desatado el caos a la hora de investigar qué está ocurriendo exactamente en relación con los últimos movimientos, sin duda turbios y vinculados a EE. UU., en territorio y aguas pakistaníes. Tras una evaluación inicial en Transition Protocol —que, como se reconoció, no proporcionó todas las respuestas necesarias—, profundizamos en un análisis mucho más exhaustivo respaldado por varias fuentes.

Lo que estamos observando en varios puntos clave de la conexión terrestre entre Irán y Pakistán, de extrema sensibilidad, no es un cierre total de la frontera, sino un delicado equilibrio de doble vía por parte de Islamabad entre la tremenda presión financiera de Washington y el salvavidas estratégico de Teherán.

Así que esta es la situación actual, combinando los datos contrastados con nuestras últimas consultas.

El punto clave: el detonante normativo fue una medida de sanciones bancarias, no solo la seguridad fronteriza.

Aunque los responsables provinciales de Baluchistán justificaron públicamente el sábado el cierre de dos puntos clave —Taftan y Gabd–Rimdan— alegando motivos de seguridad, lucha contra el terrorismo y lucha contra el contrabando, lo que más importa es el mecanismo exacto en torno a un memorándum emitido el viernes pasado por el Ministerio de Comercio pakistaní.

Dicho memorándum revocó de inmediato una prórroga, concedida el 3 de octubre, de la exención del Formulario Electrónico de Importación (EIF, en inglés) para mercancías importadas de Irán, y coincidió con la orden de Islamabad de cerrar el puesto de inmigración de la Agencia Federal de Investigación (FIA, en inglés) en Taftan.

Lo fundamental es que, sin la exención del EIF, los importadores pakistaníes deben tramitar las compras iraníes a través de los canales bancarios oficiales de Pakistán —lo que, por supuesto, las sanciones estadounidenses hacen absolutamente imposible.

Peyman Sanandaji, presidente de la Comisión de Transporte de la Cámara de Comercio de Teherán, confirmó oficialmente que ha sido el cumplimiento de las sanciones bancarias (el abandono del EIF) lo que ha paralizado las exportaciones iraníes a Pakistán.

El impacto inmediato en los pasos fronterizos oficiales fue considerable: están en peligro más de 4.000 toneladas de importaciones diarias de GLP iraní a través de Gabd–Rimdan. El expresidente de la Cámara de Comercio de Quetta, Ayoub Miryani, informó de que solo en Gabd–Rimdan hay más de 2.000 contenedores varados, con cientos de camiones de mercancías más atascados en Taftan.

¿Por qué está ocurriendo esto ahora? Debido a la nefasta coincidencia entre el pago del tramo del FMI del 7 de octubre que Pakistán tenía que abonar y la «Operación Economic Outcast» del Tesoro imperial estadounidense.

En el marco de la «Operación Economic Outcast», Washington dio a terceros países un «plazo definido para cerrar» las vías de suministro comerciales relacionadas con Irán o enfrentarse a la expulsión del sistema financiero estadounidense. A esto le siguieron las designaciones de la OFAC del 1 de octubre contra las redes ferroviarias terrestres e industriales de Irán y las medidas del 8 de octubre contra 17 petroleros de la «flota en la sombra».

Pero entonces, el 7 de octubre —solo nueve días antes de que el Ministerio de Comercio revocara la exención del EIF—, Islamabad llegó a un acuerdo con el FMI sobre la cuarta revisión de su Servicio Ampliado del Fondo para desbloquear 1.210 millones de dólares. Esto aún requiere la aprobación del Consejo Ejecutivo del FMI.

Por supuesto, no existe ningún documento público que demuestre una orden directa de EE. UU. o del FMI para cerrar las fronteras entre Irán y Pakistán. Pero fuentes de Islamabad subrayaron que mantener vigente una exención de instrumentos bancarios de duración indefinida antes de la votación del Consejo del FMI se había convertido en una vulnerabilidad insostenible para Pakistán en materia de sanciones.

Las fuentes de Islamabad insisten en que la medida vino acompañada de auténticas preocupaciones por el contrasabotaje y se coordinó discretamente entre Islamabad y Teherán (cursiva mía) para que la pausa no rompiera las relaciones bilaterales.

El portavoz del Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores iraní, Esmaeil Baghaei, calificó públicamente la interrupción como una pausa temporal debida a «problemas técnicos» y «medidas de precaución».

Las fuentes oficiales pakistaníes, por su parte, insistieron en que el endurecimiento de los controles es una medida conjunta de lucha contra el terrorismo que refleja un «entendimiento mutuo» con Teherán tras un repunte de los atentados en Sistán-Baluchistán; las emboscadas en autopistas; y un ataque marítimo perpetrado el 11 de octubre contra embarcaciones de la Guardia Costera de Pakistán frente a Jiwani —que las autoridades pakistaníes atribuyeron a «actores extranjeros» que pretendían sabotear la mediación de Pakistán en el acuerdo de paz con Irán—.

Vuelta al mismo patrón de siempre: yihadistas salafistas utilizados como arma y manipulados por los sospechosos habituales.

La única llamada telefónica confirmada públicamente entre el viceprimer ministro Ishaq Dar y el ministro de Asuntos Exteriores Abbas Araghchi tuvo lugar el domingo 18 de octubre —dos días después del memorándum del 16 de octubre— y sus comunicados oficiales solo mencionan la diplomacia regional y la reunión de la OCI en Bagdad.

Por lo tanto, la coordinación previa a nivel de los ministros Dar y Araghchi y las detenciones específicas por sabotaje forman parte de nuestra propia información.

Exportaciones asimétricas de alimentos y rutas informales

En resumen, los productos siguen cruzando las fronteras. Islamabad ha permitido deliberadamente que sigan circulando los productos perecederos y las exportaciones alimentarias pakistaníes hacia Irán. Los productos perecederos esenciales —entre ellos, tomates, patatas y cebollas— siguen circulando, junto con los flujos tradicionales de petróleo y combustible, a través de la porosa frontera de 909 km.

El registro normativo explica el motivo: hace ocho meses, Pakistán promulgó una exención bancaria específica para diez productos alimenticios exportados a Irán por vía terrestre (en la que se enumeraban explícitamente el arroz, las patatas, las cebollas, los tomates, la carne y la fruta), además de productos farmacéuticos.

La Cámara de Comercio de Teherán confirmó el pasado sábado que, si bien las exportaciones iraníes a Pakistán se ven paralizadas por la normativa del EIF, las importaciones de Pakistán a Irán continúan, y el comercio informal de combustible y el comercio fronterizo a través de Baluchistán ya alcanzan un volumen estimado de entre 800 millones y más de 1 000 millones de dólares anuales al margen de los controles aduaneros oficiales.

Debe prestarse especial atención a los puertos de Gwadar y Karachi, así como a la arquitectura general de tránsito entre China e Irán. Según nuestras fuentes, el tránsito de terceros países y el tránsito entre China e Irán a través de Pakistán sigue estando protegido.

A nivel jurídico, un documento que detalla el tránsito de mercancías por Pakistán estableció seis corredores de tránsito terrestre designados que unen Gwadar, Karachi y Port Qasim con Gabd y Taftan para la carga de terceros países con destino a Irán bajo una garantía bancaria.

Además, una notificación de la Junta Federal de Ingresos del pasado mes de junio designó formalmente la estación de ferrocarril de Taftan como puesto aduanero terrestre, y los ministros iraníes y pakistaníes han promovido el corredor ferroviario para conectar China con Irán y Europa.

Sin embargo, siguen existiendo dos limitaciones operativas muy complicadas.
La modernización de la línea ferroviaria Quetta-Taftan sigue figurando oficialmente como una mejora prevista; y la designación por parte de la OFAC, el 1 de octubre, de la Compañía Ferroviaria de la República Islámica de Irán (RAI) tenía como objetivo explícito frenar el cambio de Teherán de las rutas marítimas bloqueadas al ferrocarril.

En resumen: se necesita una habilidad extraordinaria para enfrentarse al Imperio de la Piratería.

Islamabad ha llevado a cabo una maniobra clásica y calculada: revocar de forma visible la exención formal de importación del EIF en Taftan y Gabd-Rimdan para proteger su próximo tramo del FMI, de 1.210 millones de dólares, y a los bancos paquistaníes de las sanciones secundarias del Tesoro de EE. UU.

Y todo ello sin dejar de mantener vivas las exportaciones alimentarias paquistaníes, las vías fronterizas informales y los marcos de tránsito de terceros países con Teherán.

Que esto siga siendo un breve reajuste administrativo o se consolide en un cuello de botella más prolongado lo decidirán tres indicadores durante las próximas quince días:

1. Una notificación modificada del EIF o del trueque por parte del Ministerio de Comercio.
2. Despacho de aduanas independiente para la carga en tránsito por Gwadar/Karachi.

Movimientos de mercancías documentados a través del enlace ferroviario Taftan-Zahedan.

Que la lección quede grabada en las tierras raras para que todo el Sur Global reflexione: no hay forma de luchar contra el Imperio sin eludir su control del sistema financiero internacional.

By Tings Chak

Join us on Telegram, X, and VK.

Contact us: info@strategic-culture.su

On Oct. 25, Brazilians will return to the polls to choose between President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva and Flávio Bolsonaro, son of former president Jair Bolsonaro, who was sentenced to 27 years in prison for his role in an attempted coup.

The first round gave Flávio 47.03 percent of valid votes against Lula’s 45.16 percent, revealing the enduring strength of the far right four years after its electoral defeat.

The runoff takes place as President Donald Trump seeks to restore U.S. domination over Latin America, with Brazil emerging as a consequential battleground in Washington’s campaign to contain China’s growing relations with the region.

Over the past two decades, Brazil and China have built a political partnership that has expanded the space for independent action among countries of the Global South. Under Lula and China’s President Xi Jinping, this relationship has deepened through cooperation in industrial development, infrastructure, science and technology.

The election will determine whether this project advances or Brazil’s international orientation is subordinated to Washington’s renewed Monroe Doctrine as part of the continent’s rightward shift.

Since Lula’s return to the presidency in 2023, the two governments have connected Chinese cooperation with Brazil’s development programmes, including Nova Indústria Brasil, the Growth Acceleration Programme (PAC) and the Ecological Transformation Plan. Lula’s May 2025 visit to Beijing produced 36 agreements covering infrastructure, finance, artificial intelligence, public health and industrial cooperation.

Behind these agreements is a long-standing challenge: overcoming Brazil’s dependent position in the international division of labour, where commodity exports continue to outweigh advanced industrial and technological development.

This cooperation has also reached Brazilian popular movements. Through the International Association for Popular Cooperation (Baobab), Brazil’s Landless Rural Workers’ Movement (MST) and other organisations have worked with Chinese institutions on agricultural mechanisation, bioinputs and digital technologies for family farming.

These initiatives include the Digital Family Farming and Agroecology Laboratoryand IARAA, an artificial intelligence project for agroecology and agrarian reform developed by Brazilian popular movements using Chinese open-source models.

In a countryside marked by extreme concentrations of land, machinery and capital, such cooperation offers new tools to peasant organisations fighting for agrarian reform and the production of healthy food.

Brazil’s relationship with China also reveals the different class interests at work in the country, with contradictions particularly visible in the countryside.

Massive exports of soybeans, meat and minerals have continued under both Bolsonaro and Lula, but their governments have pursued very different political relationships with Beijing.

While Jair Bolsonaro attacked China and aligned himself with Washington, Lula has sought to deepen strategic cooperation, including in industrial development, technology and agrarian reform.

Flávio Bolsonaro now promises an “economically pragmatic” relationship with China while cultivating close ties with Trump. For sectors of Brazil’s ruling classes that profit from commodity exports, continuing to sell to China while embracing Washington’s political agenda presents little contradiction. For Brazil’s efforts to rebuild its industry and develop technological sovereignty, the consequences are far greater.

Return of the Monroe Doctrine

Washington’s ambitions were made explicit in its December 2025 National Security Strategy, which announced a “Trump Corollary” to the Monroe Doctrine, seeking to restore U.S. pre-eminence in the Western Hemisphere and deny outside powers control over strategic resources and infrastructure.

Five days later, China published its third Latin America policy paper, reaffirming sovereignty, non-interference, regional integration, technological cooperation and support for the region as a Zone of Peace. The two documents reveal fundamentally different approaches to the political future of the continent.

Brazil’s position is decisive. As Latin America’s largest economy, a founding BRICS member and a leading participant in Mercosur, it possesses industrial, scientific and political capacities that could strengthen independent development across Latin America and beyond.

The emergence of a new technological era makes this struggle particularly consequential. Brazil is among the few countries of the Global South capable of pursuing digital and technological sovereignty that could benefit its neighbours and parts of Africa.

Its roughly 23 percent share of global rare earth reserves is an important starting point, but control over minerals alone is insufficient. The greater challenge is developing the capacity to process them, manufacture advanced components and build the digital infrastructure, artificial intelligence systems and technologies that will shape future production.

Flávio has made his orientation clear. Speaking at the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) in the United States in March, he offered Brazil as the “solution” to Washington’s dependence on China for critical minerals, explicitly linking rare earths to artificial intelligence and U.S. military superiority.

Chinese economic reporting has also described proposals from his team to exclude China from rare-earth supply chains. Rather than using Brazil’s resources to develop its own industrial and technological capacities, this agenda would place them at the service of U.S. technological and military power.

The same political orientation extends to digital sovereignty. In July, Flávio’s campaign submitted proposals to U.S. trade authorities that included preventing Brazil’s Pix payment system from connecting to non-Western international payment networks and loosening commitments within Mercosur.

These proposals converge with a wider U.S. campaign involving tariffs, digital regulation, strategic minerals and attempts to influence Brazil’s electoral process.

Meanwhile, Washington’s January bombing on Venezuela and kidnapping of President Nicolás Maduro and First Lady Cilia Flores demonstrated how far it is prepared to go to impose its will on the continent.

BRICS & the Struggle for Independent Foreign Policy

Brazil, particularly under Lula, has helped build institutions through which countries of the Global South can reduce their dependence on Western-dominated structures.

At the July 2025 BRICS summit in Rio de Janeiro, the group advanced cooperation on development finance, local-currency transactions, and international institutional reform.

The New Development Bank, headed by former Brazilian president Dilma Rousseff, is an important expression of this effort.

The BRICS cannot automatically overcome economic dependency or guarantee sovereignty for working people. Yet its expansion offers greater room for independent development, provided that participating governments have the political commitment to use these possibilities.

Brazil’s history reveals how difficult that independence has been to defend. In 1961, Vice President João Goulart became the first high-ranking representative of a Latin American government to visit the People’s Republic of China, meeting Mao Zedong when revolutionary China remained diplomatically isolated and subjected to U.S. sanctions. Three years later, Goulart was overthrown in a U.S.-backed civil-military coup that inaugurated a 21-year dictatorship.

The early history of China–Brazil friendship was inseparable from struggles over national sovereignty, agrarian reform and the forces determined to suppress them.

The international material conditions for South–South cooperation are considerably more favourable today, but political direction remains decisive.

Former President Jair Bolsonaro hosted the 2019 BRICS summit in Brasília while pursuing close alignment with Washington. A government can weaken institutions from within by abandoning the commitments that give them political substance.

The far right’s resurgence also reflects the enduring power of Brazil’s own ruling classes. Bolsonarismo has a domestic base among sections of agribusiness, finance, the security apparatus, militias, conservative religious networks and major media.

These forces, whose electoral and institutional advances have continued, were strengthened by the 2016 parliamentary coup against Dilma Rousseff and the judicial persecution of Lula. They possess their own organisations, material interests and sources of power, which do not disappear when an election is lost. Their economic dependence on Chinese markets has not prevented their support for Washington’s political agenda.

Beyond the Election

Beijing has followed the Brazilian election closely, reflecting the importance of the political relationship built between Lula and Xi over years of cooperation.

In July, Xi reaffirmed China’s support for Brazil against external interference during a conversation with Lula, which also covered cooperation in artificial intelligence, satellites, mineral processing and relations between China and Mercosur.

In September, Foreign Minister Wang Yi received Lula’s adviser and former foreign minister Celso Amorim in Beijing, reaffirming the bilateral strategic partnership.

China’s principle of non-interference means that the choice of Brazil’s government belongs to the Brazilian people, but Beijing’s diplomatic restraint should not be confused with an absence of political interests or an assumption that all governments would pursue the same relationship. Chinese analysts have described the possible outlook under Flávio as one of “cold politics, hot economics”: commodity trade would likely continue, but the political relationship and cooperation in strategic sectors could deteriorate. The experience of Jair Bolsonaro’s presidency has already shown the limits of commercial interests in sustaining a broader political partnership.

For the Brazilian people, the consequences extend well beyond foreign policy. The election will also shape the struggles over labour rights, public services, agrarian reform and the defence of democratic space.

Brazil’s renewed role in South–South cooperation under Lula has opened possibilities for a development project that responds to the needs of its working people, but realising those possibilities depends on the political and social forces capable of carrying it forward.

The Brazilian people have fought through dictatorship, neoliberal restructuring, parliamentary coups and the rise of the far right to defend their political and social gains.

This election is another moment in that longer struggle, now unfolding amid renewed U.S. imperial intervention and a transformation of the world’s technological foundations. The future of China–Brazil cooperation will depend on the capacity of organised popular forces to build a sovereign national project and turn international cooperation into lasting changes in people’s lives.

Original article: consortiumnews.com

By Larry C. Johnson

Join us on Telegram, X, and VK.

Contact us: info@strategic-culture.su

Saudi Arabia went looking for allies against Ansar Allah, and so far it has gotten statements of support. Egypt has declared its readiness to back the Kingdom, but its statement does not commit to any military involvement. Pakistan and Turkey have pledged troops under the Mecca Joint Defense Agreement signed in August, but both governments say their forces will play “a supportive rather than active combat role” against the Houthis. I have watched coalition pledges like these for decades. Cairo has not forgotten its war in Yemen in the 1960s. Islamabad has its own border with Afghanistan and a restless India to think about. Neither is going to send its soldiers into the mountains of Saada, so Riyadh will be fighting this one essentially alone.

That matters because Ansar Allah has shown it can reach the Kingdom’s economic core. In the past two weeks the Houthis have struck at Aramco facilities near Riyadh, the Shedgum gas plant in the Ghawar corridor, and the Tanajib oil facility on the Gulf coast. They hit an administrative building at Aramco’s Dhahran headquarters, the company’s historic nerve center. Now they are reportedly targeting Yanbu.

Riyadh says little about the damage, and Aramco’s chief executive insists the company’s system is intact and can be restored to its full 12 million barrels a day within days. I don’t believe it. Karl Miller, who is on the ground in the region, tells me the Saudis have suffered significant damage. That matches what we can see from the outside: a coalition that keeps announcing interceptions while fires keep burning at the targets. Repairing gas-processing trains, stabilization units and refinery components is not a matter of days. After the 2019 Abqaiq-Khurais strike, Saudi output fell by 5.7 million barrels a day, and it took about two months to recover from a single attack on an undefended site. This time the attacks are sustained and repeated, and the repair crews are working under fire.

Yanbu is the crucial target. With Iran’s navy declaring the Strait of Hormuz closed except to vessels it authorizes, Saudi Arabia’s Red Sea terminal at Yanbu, fed by the East-West Pipeline, is the Kingdom’s escape route to world markets. Flows through Hormuz fell to 11.62 million barrels a day in the week to October 13, against a baseline of 17.15 million. That bypass is already badly damaged. The East-West Pipeline is designed to carry up to 7 million barrels a day across the peninsula, pushed along by 11 pumping stations. According to my sources in the region, four of those 11 stations have been severely damaged and are not functioning. This did not come out of nowhere. In September, an attack damaged pumping facilities and knocked the pipeline largely out of service, and regional officials told the Associated Press repairs would take three to five weeks. Aramco got the line back up, and it has been hit again. A pipeline missing more than a third of its pumping stations cannot move anything close to its rated volume, however much crude is waiting in the Eastern Province.

Meanwhile Ansar Allah has seized Greater and Lesser Hanish islands and Perim inside the Bab al-Mandab, putting it astride the very sea lanes that tankers leaving Yanbu must use. Damaged production, a crippled pipeline and a contested Red Sea together mean the world loses Saudi barrels three times over: some cannot be produced, some cannot reach the coast, and what reaches the coast cannot be shipped safely.

Diesel is where this hits hardest. Diesel moves the trucks, tractors, trains and ships that carry everything else, and Europe is one of the world’s dominant diesel importers. The International Energy Agency’s October report is blunt. Middle Eastern fuel exports are below half of pre-war levels, and diesel markets “will remain tight well into 2027.” The IEA does not expect lost diesel stocks to be replenished before the second half of 2027. Diesel benchmarks topped $200 a barrel in September and remain nearly double the price of crude, which is itself around $108 for Brent, up more than 75 percent from a year ago. Ukrainian drones keep hitting Russian refineries and export terminals, so Europe’s other traditional source of middle distillates is also impaired.

So when people ask me when diesel supply returns to normal, my answer is not soon. The IEA’s timeline, which does not account for sustained damage to Saudi facilities, points to the second half of 2027 at the earliest. A real recovery is at least a year away, and probably longer.

Don’t expect the Trump-Putin diesel deal to change that. As I have argued before, the Russian barrels are a rounding error. Moscow has cleared 500,000 tons for export, roughly 3.7 million barrels, with no shipping timeline. Even if every tranche Trump announced is delivered, about 4.8 million tons in total, that comes to roughly 36 million barrels spread over months. The first 300,000 tons equals less than one day of American transport diesel demand, and the full program equals less than four. Measured against the world’s lost Middle Eastern distillate exports, it is negligible. It also depends on Russian refineries that Ukrainian drones continue to hit, and on sanctioned tankers to carry it. The deal may make for a good headline. It will not move the supply curve, and so it will not bring down the price of diesel.

Europe is already paying the political price. On Saturday, France saw its worst rioting in years. The CGT union estimated more than 500,000 people in the streets protesting the cost of gasoline, energy and food, and more than 270 were arrested. In Milan, a demonstration against wars and rising living costs ended with barricades on fire and shops looted. Protests over the cost of living have spread to Belgium and Portugal. Albania has had five straight days of violent clashes in Tirana. The immediate trigger there is anger at Prime Minister Edi Rama, but it is part of the same continental mood of people who feel their governments have stopped listening.

This is the context in which Washington is considering new strikes on Iran. The ceasefire collapsed in July and has not been rebuilt. Every round of escalation since then has raised the price of oil, and each one has given Tehran a reason to tighten its grip on Hormuz and its allies in Yemen a reason to widen their target list. Another U.S. campaign will not reopen the Strait. It will further close it. It will push diesel prices back toward their September records just as Europe heads into winter, when heating oil demand peaks.

American policymakers seem to believe the costs of this war can be exported. They cannot. Europe’s economies were already weak before the war. Factories that run on diesel-powered logistics, farmers who need diesel for the harvest, and households that heat with fuel oil cannot absorb another price spike. The riots in Paris and Milan are a warning of what a long diesel shortage does to a society. If Washington widens this war, it will be choosing to make that shortage longer and deeper, and Europe will pay the bill on its streets.

Original article: ronpaulinstitute.org

Deutschland steht vor einer sicherheitspolitischen Frage, die weit über den Krieg in der Ukraine hinausreicht: Wie viel militärische Stärke braucht das Land – und welches politische Ziel soll mit dieser Stärke eigentlich verfolgt werden?

Der frühere Brigadegeneral und langjährige militärpolitische Berater Angela Merkels, Erich Vad, stellt dabei eine Position zur Diskussion, die in Berlin inzwischen beinahe ungewöhnlich klingt. Er bestreitet nicht die Notwendigkeit von Verteidigungsfähigkeit. Im Gegenteil. Aber er warnt davor, Aufrüstung mit einer Politik dauerhafter Konfrontation gegenüber Russland gleichzusetzen. Deutschlands Interesse, so seine Argumentation, müsse vor allem darin bestehen, einen großen Krieg in Europa zu verhindern und deshalb die politischen Gesprächskanäle nach Moskau wieder ernsthaft zu öffnen.

Gerade dieser Unterschied ist entscheidend. Ein Staat kann militärisch stark sein und dennoch Diplomatie betreiben. Er kann seine Verteidigungsfähigkeit erhöhen, ohne daraus die politische Doktrin abzuleiten, dass Sicherheit nur noch gegen einen bestimmten Gegner organisiert werden könne. Genau darin liegt der Kern der von Vad geforderten Neuorientierung: Deutschland müsse seine eigenen Interessen definieren, statt sich immer tiefer in eine Eskalationslogik hineinziehen zu lassen, deren Endpunkt niemand seriös benennen kann.

Vad verweist dabei ausdrücklich auf deutsche historische Erfahrungen. Das ist keineswegs nostalgische Rückschau. Konrad Adenauer war alles andere als ein russlandfreundlicher Romantiker. Er band die junge Bundesrepublik fest an den Westen, setzte auf NATO-Mitgliedschaft und transatlantische Partnerschaft. Und dennoch reiste derselbe Adenauer 1955 nach Moskau. Die Verhandlungen waren hart, die politischen Gegensätze fundamental, und doch nahmen die Bundesrepublik und die Sowjetunion diplomatische Beziehungen auf. Zugleich erreichte die deutsche Delegation die Zusage zur Heimkehr Tausender noch in sowjetischem Gewahrsam befindlicher Deutscher.

Gerade dieser Vorgang zeigt, wie verkürzt die heutige Vorstellung ist, Dialog sei automatisch ein Zeichen von Schwäche.

Adenauer hatte wenige Monate zuvor die Westbindung der Bundesrepublik institutionell gefestigt. Trotzdem behandelte er den Gesprächskanal nach Moskau nicht als Verrat am eigenen Bündnis, sondern als Teil verantwortlicher deutscher Außenpolitik. Stärke und Verständigung waren für ihn keine Gegensätze.

Noch deutlicher wurde diese Logik später unter Willy Brandt. Die neue Ostpolitik entstand nicht aus der Illusion, alle Konflikte mit der Sowjetunion seien verschwunden. Sie entstand gerade deshalb, weil sie existierten. Brandt und Egon Bahr gingen davon aus, dass dauerhafte Blockkonfrontation Europa nicht sicherer machte und dass Veränderung nur durch Kontakte, Verhandlungen und schrittweise Entspannung möglich war. Die Bundesregierung setzte auf Gewaltverzicht, geregelte Beziehungen und politische Kommunikation über die Blockgrenzen hinweg. Der Bundestag erinnert bis heute daran, dass die Ostpolitik ausdrücklich darauf zielte, die starre Konfrontation zwischen Ost und West aufzubrechen.

Man muss diese Politik nicht idealisieren, um ihre strategische Bedeutung zu erkennen. Weder Adenauer noch Brandt bauten ihre Außenpolitik auf Vertrauen im naiven Sinn. Sie handelten aus Interessen. Sie wussten, dass Deutschland geografisch in der Mitte Europas lag und dass eine stabile Friedensordnung auf diesem Kontinent nicht allein durch militärische Abschreckung geschaffen werden konnte.

Genau hier setzt Vads Kritik am heutigen Kurs an. Dass Außenminister Johann Wadephul erklärt, Deutschland sei grundsätzlich weiterhin offen für Gespräche mit Russland, reicht aus seiner Sicht nicht. Das jüngste Treffen Wadephuls mit Sergej Lawrow bezeichnete er als eine Art widerwillige Pflichtübung. Formale Gesprächsbereitschaft ersetzt eben keine Diplomatie, wenn beide Seiten im Grunde nur noch ihre bekannten Positionen vortragen und anschließend auseinandergehen.

Das Problem ist größer. In Deutschland hat sich seit Beginn des Ukraine-Krieges ein politisches Verständnis etabliert, in dem militärische Stärke und politische Härte immer stärker miteinander verschmelzen. Wer mehr Verteidigungsfähigkeit fordert, landet fast automatisch bei der Forderung nach noch härterer Konfrontation mit Moskau. Wer für Verhandlungen plädiert, gerät umgekehrt schnell unter Rechtfertigungsdruck, als müsse Diplomatie zwangsläufig Kapitulation bedeuten.

Historisch war deutsche Außenpolitik gerade dann erfolgreich, wenn sie solche falschen Gegensätze vermied. Adenauer konnte NATO-Kanzler sein und nach Moskau fahren. Brandt konnte fest im westlichen Bündnis verankert bleiben und gleichzeitig eine Politik der Entspannung beginnen. Das eine schloss das andere nicht aus.

Auch heute müsste eine eigenständigere deutsche Politik nicht bedeuten, auf Verteidigungsfähigkeit zu verzichten. Vad fordert das ausdrücklich nicht. Sein Argument ist vielmehr, dass Aufrüstung ohne politische Strategie am Ende selbst zum Risiko werden kann. Wenn jede Seite nur noch militärisch denkt, jede Bewegung des Gegners als Vorbereitung auf den nächsten Angriff interpretiert und Gesprächskanäle verkümmern lässt, entsteht Sicherheit irgendwann nur noch auf dem Papier.

Deutschland hat dabei besondere Interessen. Ein großer europäischer Krieg würde nicht in Washington geführt. Wie Vad zugespitzt formuliert, würde in den Vereinigten Staaten dabei keine Fensterscheibe zu Bruch gehen. Deutschland dagegen läge mitten im Zentrum einer solchen Eskalation. Es wäre logistischer Knotenpunkt, wirtschaftlicher Hauptbetroffener und im Ernstfall selbst Kriegsschauplatz. Genau deshalb müsste Berlin ein größeres Interesse an Deeskalation haben als weit entfernte Mächte, die ihre eigenen geopolitischen und wirtschaftlichen Ziele verfolgen.

Das bedeutet auch, die amerikanische Politik nüchtern zu betrachten. Vad beschreibt Trumps Außenpolitik als „doppelzüngig“ und weist darauf hin, dass Washington keineswegs ausschließlich das Ende des Krieges im Blick habe. Die USA verfolgen gegenüber Russland, China und der Ukraine eigene strategische und wirtschaftliche Interessen. Für eine deutsche Politik wäre es daher fahrlässig, die eigenen Sicherheitsinteressen einfach mit denen Washingtons gleichzusetzen.

Die eigentliche Frage lautet deshalb nicht, ob Deutschland stark oder schwach sein soll. Natürlich braucht ein souveräner Staat Streitkräfte, die zur Verteidigung fähig sind. Die Frage lautet vielmehr, wofür diese Stärke eingesetzt wird.

Dient sie dazu, politische Handlungsspielräume zu schaffen und aus einer Position der Sicherheit heraus wieder verhandeln zu können? Oder wird sie selbst zum Ersatz für Politik?

Die Geschichte der Bundesrepublik liefert zumindest genügend Beispiele dafür, dass militärische Einbindung in den Westen und Verständigung mit Moskau gleichzeitig möglich waren.

Gerade verantwortliche deutsche Politiker des Kalten Krieges wussten, dass man sich seine Gesprächspartner nicht aussuchen kann. Diplomatie beginnt nicht dort, wo ohnehin Einigkeit herrscht. Sie wird dort notwendig, wo Interessen aufeinanderprallen.

Eine künftige europäische Sicherheitsordnung wird deshalb auf Dauer kaum stabil sein, wenn sie ausschließlich auf Abschreckung und gegenseitiger Isolation beruht. Sie muss die Sicherheitsinteressen aller beteiligten Staaten berücksichtigen, ohne deren politische Systeme oder Entscheidungen deshalb gutzuheißen.

Das wäre keine Rückkehr zu irgendeiner romantisierten Vergangenheit und auch kein Verzicht auf deutsche Stärke. Es wäre vielmehr die Rückkehr zu einem Prinzip, das Adenauer, Brandt und andere deutsche Staatsmänner in sehr unterschiedlichen historischen Situationen verstanden haben: Sicherheit in Europa entsteht langfristig nicht dadurch, dass man Russland aus Europa hinausdefiniert.

Sie entsteht durch eine Ordnung, in der Verteidigungsfähigkeit und Diplomatie einander ergänzen – und in der Sicherheit gemeinsam organisiert wird, nicht dauerhaft gegeneinander.

Mohammed bin Salman is learning a lot about being a leader, although it is the Houthis who are giving him the lessons.

Join us on Telegram, X, and VK.

Contact us: info@strategic-culture.su

Mohammed bin Salman is learning a lot about being a leader, although it is the Houthis who are giving him the lessons. The first one is that in the Arab world all promises of military support from neighbours are worthless. The second: only Iran has the power to stop the war in Yemen.

It’s hard to define Donald Trump’s legacy in the Middle East when, since the end of February this year, everything seems to point to him and the U.S. being a huge loser in a war against Iran. But one decision he did make more recently can be considered quite smart: not to hit the Houthis.

This group in Yemen has cultivated the model of how to stay in power even in the face of airstrikes from the U.S. They remain in mountainous regions, scattered as much as possible, and are the toughest fighters in the entire region. Trump’s decision in March 2025 to halt his own bombing campaign against them was probably the smartest thing the Donald has done in the region. He knew that they were just too tough, too resilient, and the price of U.S. shipping being hit in the Red Sea was just too great.

Tough times now for Saudi Arabia’s young crown prince, Mohammed bin Salman, who can’t be sleeping very well at night – if he is getting any sleep at all. His own decision back in 2015 to launch a bombing campaign against civilians mainly in Sanaa (and often wedding ceremonies) might be one he is regretting now. The Crown Prince’s own air force is still bombing the Houthis, but this time along the coastline in a bid to break their stranglehold on the Bab el-Mandeb straits. But the response by the Houthis – to bomb the living daylights out of Saudi Arabia’s main airport in Riyadh – has not only shocked leaders of the entire region but underlines a point that media based in Dubai, too used to writing flattering copy about the Crown Prince, might not make: the fate of this young country, with its young leader, is balancing on the edge of a knife. Many experts point out why the Crown Prince is so paranoid about security and the threat of a coup d’état by pointing out that it is only a matter of time before one of these Saudi pilots drops his payload on the Crown Prince’s palace instead – which would be the tinderbox moment for a regime to fall, for a leader to slip away in the dead of night and arrive perhaps somewhere in London, Tangiers or even California. While MbS is fretting about the state of the war with the Houthis, which is not going at all well, his main worry is not that this group enters KSA and does anything politically to destabilise the country. It is rather that the lack of confidence within the royal family – by enough princes – reaches a tipping point and he is either assassinated or given the opportunity to flee at a moment’s notice. The attack on the airport was really such a tipping point, as it showed not only how MbS’s leadership and the poor decisions he makes are evident (the airport should have been closed months ago, but it would look like a defeatist move) but also how vulnerable the entire country is to any attack by the Yemeni group. Such a vulnerability is the issue, given that it was the young Crown Prince himself who upped the ante with the conflict with the Houthis – and he has hundreds of princes whom he locked up in a five-star hotel and held hostage while extracting huge amounts of money from, as one of his first policy initiatives as leader, who all hold mock reverence to him as the country’s leader. But for how long?

“This could turn out to be existential for Bin Salman,” argues London-based MENA commentator Sami Hamdi. “UAE and Houthis are hammering him in Yemen, Trump has taken his money and turned his back on him, Netanyahu is violating him by insisting on an official invite for help (normalisation), his best friend Turki Al Sheikh continues to fleece him with unprofitable boxing matches and never-ending raves, and his international allies refuse to fight for him and are pushing him towards a deal that will be interpreted by all as a humiliation for him.”

Solitude seems to come with the job of being MbS in Saudi Arabia – a country always appearing to be on the cusp of being great and significant but never quite managing it. Recently MbS carved out the reputation of being a dynamic regional leader who allowed pop concerts with scantily clad Western performers, while his own mega-projects in the desert quietly get wound down, barely leaving the drawing board.

The real lesson of the Houthis for MbS is that they are simply too tough – and even Turkey and Pakistan, who presented themselves as allies for Riyadh militarily, are remarkably quiet. Some would even go as far as to call it a betrayal of the Arabs.

“Why does Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman ‘rightfully’ live in a state of disappointment and betrayal from his Arab and American allies?” asks the legendary Egyptian journalist and geopolitical hack Abdel Bariatwan. “Where is Turkey and Pakistan, and where is the Mecca alliance? Isn’t it a disgrace that Iran is the only one volunteering to mediate to stop the war?” he asks.

Without becoming official, BRICS’ role in resolving conflicts remains reduced.

Join us on Telegram, X, and VK.

Contact us: info@strategic-culture.su

Recently, I delivered a presentation at the Russian Academy of Sciences on the role of BRICS in addressing the conflict in the Middle East. The discussion raised a fundamental question about the group’s international relevance: to what extent can an increasingly influential association of emerging powers contribute to resolving a major geopolitical crisis when its members hold divergent positions and maintain competing regional interests?

The answer requires a realistic assessment of BRICS’ institutional character and the political considerations shaping its members’ foreign policies.

The expansion of BRICS has increased its economic weight and diplomatic reach. Nevertheless, the group remains primarily a platform for intergovernmental coordination rather than a formal international organization equipped with binding decision-making mechanisms and a unified foreign policy. Its members maintain regular consultations, pursue economic cooperation, and issue joint declarations, but these activities do not automatically translate into coordinated action during armed conflicts.

The Middle East illustrates this limitation particularly clearly. Iran and the United Arab Emirates belong to BRICS while occupying opposing positions in the current military confrontation. Tehran considers American military infrastructure in the region a central element of the threat it faces, while the UAE seeks to protect its territory and critical infrastructure from Iranian missiles and drones. The presence of American forces on Emirati soil places Abu Dhabi in a particularly sensitive position, regardless of whether Iran considers the country itself its principal adversary.

Other members face similarly complex calculations. Egypt maintains important relations with Israel, while India combines longstanding ties with Iran with a strategic partnership with Israel. Meanwhile, China’s rivalry with India remains an important feature of Asian geopolitics, despite diplomatic efforts to stabilize bilateral relations. These differences prevent BRICS from adopting a common strategic position on every major international crisis.

The frequently invoked objective of establishing a multipolar world order does little to eliminate these contradictions. Multipolarity itself carries different meanings across the group’s membership. Brazilian foreign policy discourse often associates it with multilateral institutions and international governance, including the United Nations. Russia, China, and Iran, however, place greater emphasis on redistributing global power and reducing the capacity of Western states to impose their strategic preferences on other countries.

Consequently, BRICS lacks a fully shared geopolitical doctrine. Its cohesion rests primarily on the combined economic and political weight of its members and their recognition that the international system cannot be transformed without their participation. This common interest provides a foundation for cooperation, although it remains insufficient to establish a unified approach to every regional conflict.

These structural limitations define what BRICS can realistically accomplish in the Middle East. The group cannot be expected to endorse Iran’s military position collectively, nor is it likely to become a unified negotiating intermediary. The interests of its Arab members, particularly the UAE, make such an arrangement politically implausible. Likewise, most BRICS countries do not support eliminating the State of Israel.

However, significant opportunities for coordinated diplomatic action remain. Members can oppose attacks against civilians, condemn violations of international humanitarian law, and demand accountability for the destruction affecting Palestine, Lebanon, and Iran. Such positions can establish common ground without requiring every member to adopt identical strategic objectives.

Joint declarations at BRICS summits have already provided a framework for expressing humanitarian concerns. The challenge is to translate diplomatic language into practical measures, including coordinated initiatives for humanitarian assistance, sustained international pressure against violations of international law, and diplomatic efforts to prevent further escalation.

Whether BRICS can pursue these objectives effectively depends on decisions about its institutional future. If its members want the group to exercise greater influence over international crises, they will need to develop clearer procedures, establish more concrete long-term priorities, and identify areas where collective action is possible despite strategic disagreements.

The Middle East conflict therefore presents BRICS with a significant test. Its capacity to influence the international order will depend not only on the combined power of its members, but also on their willingness to convert shared interests into sustained political action.

In a Europe preparing for war, entering the market means entering the battlefield where the great battle will take place.

Join us on Telegram, X, and VK.

Contact us: info@strategic-culture.su

Sovereignty built by subtraction

On October 19, 2026, at the Berlaymont Building, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs Luca Beccari and Commission Vice-President Maroš Šefčovič signed the agreement establishing an association between the European Union and its member states, on the one hand, and the Republic of San Marino and the Principality of Andorra, on the other. On Mount Titano, the ceremony was watched live at the Kursaal, and the tone of the day was one of celebration: 11 years of negotiations, 4 governments, a “historic turning point” hailed by the majority parties, the Emilia-Romagna Region, and the Italian Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Almost no one asked the question that such a transition inevitably raises for a republic that has built its survival on seventeen centuries of exceptional status: what does San Marino cease to be the moment it enters the single market?

The argument put forward in these pages is that the agreement, whatever commercial advantages it may bring, brings an era to a close. San Marino’s uniqueness – political, legal, and strategic – was not a folkloric relic. It was a source of power, the only one available to a state of sixty-one square kilometers. Exchanging it for market access means transforming San Marino from a space sheltered from conflict into a periphery of a bloc that wages those very conflicts: on the economic front today, and with increasing likelihood on the military front tomorrow.

San Marino’s longevity can be explained by a simple rule: never become part of what could destroy it. In 1797, the Republic declined Napoleon’s offer of territorial expansion, aware that a larger territory would merely be a larger target. In 1849, it granted refuge to Garibaldi without being drawn into the Risorgimento, and in 1862, it regulated its relations with the new Kingdom of Italy through a friendship treaty rather than annexation. In the 20th century, its neutrality held firm – at great cost – even when, in June 1944, Allied bombers struck a territory teeming with displaced persons.

This policy of withdrawal has produced a form of state that classical geopolitics struggles to classify. San Marino has no strategic depth, no resources, and no armed forces in the strict sense; yet it does have a position – that of an entity that no one has an interest in involving because it belongs to no camp. Its sovereignty is measured not by capability but by distance. It is a sovereignty by statute, which holds as long as the rules of Mount Titano remain Mount Titano’s own, as long as its foreign policy choices are not dictated elsewhere, and as long as its law does not become a reflection of an external legal system.

Until recently, even relations with Brussels adhered to this framework. The customs union and the monetary convention were sector-specific instruments: they regulated goods and currency while leaving the political architecture of the state intact. The agreement on cooperation and a customs union with the European Economic Community dates back to 1991 and entered into force in 2002; the Monetary Agreement with the European Union dates from 2012 and makes the use of the euro contingent upon the transposition of the banking acquis. When, in 2013, the people of San Marino were called upon to vote on the application for EU membership, the referendum did not even reach the quorum. The agreement signed in Brussels circumvents that limit: it does not bring San Marino into the EU, but brings the EU into San Marino.

The document marking the end of the privilege

When read in its entirety, the text refutes the notion that this is merely a trade agreement. The framework agreement consists of 112 articles, plus 7 protocols, a country-specific protocol with 6 appendices, and 25 annexes that list, act by act, the European law that the Republic will be required to apply. It is also a mixed agreement: in addition to the Great and General Council, it requires the consent of the European Parliament and ratification by the 27 national parliaments, while the San Marinese government aims for provisional application as early as the beginning of 2027. Three elements define the Republic’s new status.

The first is dynamic alignment. The annexes capture the acquis as it stood at the beginning of 2023; anything Brussels has produced since then – from crypto-assets to artificial intelligence to the new anti-money laundering package – will be incorporated through the Joint Committee, which is required to decide within six months of a proposal, failing which a dispute resolution procedure will be initiated. San Marino will sit on the councils of European authorities without voting rights and will be consulted by the Commission on the same basis as Member States. In the literature on differentiated integration, this condition has a specific name: “rule taker.” The associated state receives rules it did not draft, within timeframes it does not control, on matters that expand every time the Union broadens its own competences.

The second aspect is the transfer of decision-making authority. With regard to state aid, San Marino’s new regimes cannot take effect before the Commission’s decision – and the Commission may directly refer the matter to the Court of Justice – and the entire inventory of existing incentives must be brought into line with European criteria within two years. In the financial sector, European supervisory authorities will be granted direct powers, including the authority to request the suspension of an intermediary’s license – with decisions enforceable without San Marino’s approval – and market access will be subject to a binding bilateral agreement with Italy on supervision. The two levers with which San Marino has negotiated its autonomy for decades – favorable tax treatment and its financial center – are thus brought under control residing in Brussels, Frankfurt, and Rome.

The third element, the most political one, is Article 103, which obligates San Marino to prevent the rights arising from the agreement from being used to circumvent the Union’s restrictive measures. On paper, it is an anti-circumvention clause. In essence, it is the gateway through which European foreign policy – which San Marino has never endorsed – enters its legal system via the market. To put it simply, this marks the end of San Marino itself, not just the end of its privileges.

From active neutrality to the sanctions framework

To gauge the scope of Article 103, we must go back to March 2022. With Decree-Law No. 27 of March 4, the Republic adopted restrictive measures for the first time that differed from those decided by the United Nations, implementing the European sanctions regime against the Russian Federation. After the Crimea crisis in 2014, San Marino had chosen not to follow Brussels’ lead and, over the following decade, maintained close economic and diplomatic ties with Moscow, even resorting to the Sputnik V vaccine in 2021 while doses expected via Italy were slow to arrive. The 2022 shift was presented as “active neutrality,” but in the chamber, some acknowledged that part of that neutrality had been lost by adhering to the sanctions. Moscow, for its part, added San Marino to its list of hostile countries.

However, the 2022 decision was a sovereign and revocable choice, made through acts of the Great and General Council. The Association Agreement transforms it into an international obligation, and the EU’s sanctions regime effectively extends to San Marino. Furthermore, that regime no longer concerns Russia alone. European restrictive regimes cover Iran, Belarus, North Korea, human rights violations, and cyberattacks, and the Commission has equipped itself with anti-coercion tools designed for trade disputes with major powers, including China. Every new regime decided in Brussels – by states among which San Marino has no vote – will become a constraint on San Marinese banks, businesses, and professionals.

This is where the loss of uniqueness becomes vulnerability. A small state uninvolved in economic conflicts is not a target for retaliation; a small state integrated into the market of a bloc that imposes sanctions becomes one. Countermeasures by Moscow, Beijing, or Tehran do not distinguish between members and associates; they target the jurisdiction that enforces the measures. The same applies to transatlantic trade wars: with the new customs union – where customs clearance takes place at Italian offices and duties are collected on behalf of the Republic – San Marino’s tariff policy remains aligned with that of the European Union. The Titano is relinquishing the neutrality that once made it a partner to all.

The union arms itself

The most sensitive aspect remains the military one. The agreement contains no defense clauses or mutual assistance commitments, and it would be incorrect to attribute such provisions to it. The problem lies elsewhere. Through dynamic alignment, San Marino is linking itself to a legal framework that is changing in nature. Since 2022, the Union has progressively transformed the internal market into a security instrument: programs supporting the defense industry, joint loans for arms purchases, control of foreign investments, dual-use goods regimes, and rearmament plans presented as a condition for European competitiveness. It is likely that the single market of the coming decade will resemble a low-intensity war economy, and that the law called upon to regulate it will bear the marks of this reality.

An associated state that transposes that acquis does not thereby become a belligerent, but it ceases to be an outsider. Its companies can enter European defense supply chains, its intermediaries can join rearmament financing networks, and its territory can be incorporated into export control systems. In a hybrid conflict, where financial and IT infrastructure are considered legitimate targets, the distinction between member states and associated states narrows until it disappears. Over the next ten years, it is likely that external actors will treat San Marino as part of the European framework, without the Republic having access to the protections or voting rights reserved for member states.

Andorra and San Marino assume the obligations of membership without the powers that come with it: they remain outside the Council, the Parliament, and the Commission, but within the scope of the decisions those institutions make. It is no coincidence that the Principality of Monaco, which was negotiating within the same framework, suspended talks as early as 2023, and in Andorra, a labor union withdrew from the national pact on Europe, objecting to the lack of a referendum.

What remains to be decided

If we wish to maintain a positive outlook, the signing does not mean the matter is settled. The agreement must still be ratified by the Great and General Council. The key indicators to watch are concrete: the timing and procedures for ratification, any request for a referendum, the content of the bilateral agreement with Italy on financial supervision, and, above all, the first implementation – through a joint committee – of a sanctions regime adopted after the signing. That step will reveal how much of its autonomy of judgment the Republic has retained, even though rumors suggest there is boisterous enthusiasm within the halls of the small city-state.

San Marino has weathered the Roman Empire, the Papal States, Napoleon, the Risorgimento, and two world wars while remaining true to itself – and it has done so by refusing, time and again, to become part of something larger. On October 19, it made the opposite choice. Opportunities for businesses exist. The price – which the press releases deliberately omit – is the surrender of the exceptional status that for seventeen centuries has been its sole defense.

In a Europe preparing for war, entering the market means entering the battlefield where the great battle will take place.

Le mobilitazioni del 17 ottobre e le violenze che ne hanno accompagnato la fase finale mostrano una Francia attraversata da una crisi sociale e politica profonda. Mentre il macronismo entra nel suo ultimo semestre, Marine Le Pen e Jean-Luc Mélenchon incarnano due risposte radicalmente opposte alla domanda di rottura.

Segue nostro Telegram.

Le immagini degli incendi, delle barricate e degli scontri che hanno attraversato la Francia nelle giornate del 17 e 18 ottobre rischiano di nascondere il dato politicamente più importante: centinaia di migliaia di francesi sono scesi in strada contro il carovita, la crisi dei servizi pubblici e il progressivo deterioramento delle condizioni materiali di vita. Il ministero dell’Interno ha contato circa 550.000 partecipanti alla giornata nazionale del 17 ottobre, mentre gli organizzatori ne hanno rivendicati circa 800.000. Una mobilitazione di dimensioni tali da costituire la più importante esplosione di protesta sociale dai tempi della battaglia contro la riforma delle pensioni del 2023.

Il fenomeno sarebbe tuttavia incomprensibile se venisse ridotto ai disordini che hanno segnato la conclusione di numerosi cortei. Lungi dall’essere nata il 17 ottobre, la protesta rappresenta il risultato di un processo cominciato settimane prima nelle scuole e nelle università, quando studenti e liceali hanno iniziato a denunciare classi sovraffollate, carenza di personale, precarietà e progressivo impoverimento dell’istruzione pubblica. Alle mobilitazioni giovanili si sono poi aggiunti sindacati, lavoratori, pensionati e settori del movimento dei gilets jaunes, mentre il rincaro dei carburanti ha agito da detonatore di un malessere sociale molto più ampio.

Tale convergenza conferisce agli avvenimenti un significato politico ben superiore a quello di un’ennesima fiammata di protesta francese. L’Humanité ha descritto il corteo parigino come l’incontro tra generazioni differenti accomunate dalle rivendicazioni sui salari, sul futuro della gioventù e sulla difesa dei servizi pubblici, ma soprattutto dal rifiuto delle politiche seguite dal 2017. In questo senso appare particolarmente significativa l’immagine proposta dal quotidiano della sinistra francese: il macronismo rischia di terminare così come era cominciato, in mezzo ai lacrimogeni e a un conflitto sociale che il potere politico sembra incapace di ricomporre.

Nel tentativo di distogliere l’opinione pubblica dalle ragioni concrete delle proteste, il primo ministro Sébastien Lecornu ha accusato gruppi dell’ultrasinistra di avere deliberatamente organizzato gli incidenti, arrivando a contrapporre il “campo della Repubblica” a quello dei “casseurs” e indirizzando buona parte delle proprie accuse contro La France Insoumise (LFI), nonostante lo stesso leader Jean-Luc Mélenchon avesse invitato esplicitamente i propri sostenitori a non partecipare a saccheggi e devastazioni. Il Rassemblement National (RN), dal canto suo, ha rapidamente trasformato le immagini dei disordini in materiale di propaganda, cercando di associare la protesta sociale a una crisi dell’autorità e alla necessità di restaurare l’ordine.

È una dinamica che rischia di favorire l’estrema destra, ma che non deve far perdere di vista l’origine della crisi. L’aumento del costo della vita, la stagnazione dei salari, il deterioramento dei servizi pubblici e la nuova impostazione austeritaria del bilancio per il 2027 rappresentano il terreno materiale sul quale la protesta è cresciuta.

La risposta televisiva di Emmanuel Macron del 18 ottobre ha mostrato una volta ancora la difficoltà dell’Eliseo a uscire dalla contraddizione che accompagna ormai l’ultimo periodo della sua presidenza. Il capo dello Stato ha riconosciuto la legittimità delle preoccupazioni espresse dai manifestanti, ma ha a sua volta concentrato una parte importante del proprio intervento sulla condanna delle violenze e sulle questioni di ordine pubblico. Ha annunciato consultazioni con studenti, insegnanti, sindacati, parlamentari e rappresentanti delle imprese, senza però indicare immediatamente una svolta economica capace di rispondere alle cause sociali della protesta.

Messi insieme, tutti questi elementi fanno emergere in modo chiaro la dimensione strutturale della crisi del macronismo. Quando Emmanuel Macron conquistò l’Eliseo nel 2017, promise di superare la tradizionale divisione tra destra e sinistra. La sua formula politica avrebbe dovuto sostituire il conflitto ideologico con una gestione pragmatica, europea e modernizzatrice della società francese. Quasi dieci anni dopo, il risultato appare paradossalmente opposto: la Francia non è meno polarizzata, anzi risulta essere molto più polarizzata di quanto fosse all’inizio della presidenza Macron.

La dissoluzione dell’Assemblée nationale nel 2024 aveva già distrutto l’illusione di una maggioranza presidenziale stabile. Da allora la Francia è entrata in una lunga sequenza di governi minoritari, crisi parlamentari e negoziati sul bilancio. Il governo Lecornu resta privo di una maggioranza autonoma, mentre il progetto finanziario per il 2027 è stato accolto con ostilità dalle opposizioni e con crescente nervosismo dai mercati. All’inizio di ottobre i rendimenti del debito francese avevano raggiunto livelli che non si vedevano dai primi anni Duemila, mentre il debito pubblico ha superato il 119% del prodotto interno lordo e la crescita resta debole.

Ma sarebbe riduttivo interpretare questa situazione come una semplice “crisi del debito”. Il problema fondamentale riguarda piuttosto la distribuzione dei costi della crisi. Il governo continua a presentare l’austerità come una necessità tecnica, mentre la sinistra francese sottolinea come essa rappresenti piuttosto una scelta politica precisa: ridurre la spesa sociale e comprimere i servizi pubblici anziché intervenire sulle grandi fortune, sui profitti e sulle ingenti sovvenzioni concesse alle imprese. Da qui nasce la domanda che attraversa una parte consistente delle piazze francesi: chi deve pagare la crisi?

La risposta del RN è radicalmente diversa. Marine Le Pen tenta di trasformare la crisi del macronismo in una crisi dello Stato, dell’immigrazione e dell’ordine pubblico. Il suo partito cerca di intercettare lo stesso malcontento che alimenta le proteste, ma di orientarlo verso una soluzione nazionalista e securitaria. Sul terreno economico, inoltre, il RN sta tentando di rassicurare i mercati: Le Pen ha recentemente promesso forti riduzioni della spesa pubblica qualora conquistasse l’Eliseo, mentre Jordan Bardella ha difeso un piano volto a tagliare circa 140 miliardi di euro di spesa e a ridurre rapidamente deficit e debito. La pretesa dell’estrema destra di rappresentare una rottura sociale con il macronismo entra quindi in contraddizione con un programma economico che contiene anch’esso una pesante componente austeritaria.

Ad ogni modo, i dati demoscopici mostrano quanto questa contrapposizione stia modificando la politica francese. Le rilevazioni pubblicate nelle ultime settimane indicano Marine Le Pen come candidata nettamente più forte al primo turno, ma contemporaneamente mostrano una crescita di Mélenchon e soprattutto una straordinaria solidità della sua base. Un’indagine Ipsos BVA-Cevipof attribuiva in settembre al candidato di LFI tra il 15,5 e il 17% delle intenzioni di voto, ma con livelli molto più alti tra i giovani: fra i 18 e i 24 anni Mélenchon raggiungeva addirittura il 40%. Un sondaggio successivo, riportato da Reuters, ha delineato perfino scenari nei quali Le Pen e Mélenchon si qualificherebbero insieme per il ballottaggio, estromettendo completamente i candidati dell’area centrista.

Naturalmente manca ancora molto alla primavera del 2027 e ogni previsione resta fragile. Marine Le Pen deve inoltre affrontare ancora l’incognita del proprio contenzioso giudiziario, mentre a sinistra rimangono divisioni profonde tra LFI, socialisti, comunisti ed ecologisti. Ma il dato politico è già evidente: il successore di Macron non sembra destinato a provenire dal blocco che ha governato la Francia nell’ultimo decennio.

La battaglia per l’Eliseo sarà quindi molto più di una competizione tra candidati. Sarà uno scontro attorno all’interpretazione stessa del fallimento macronista. L’estrema destra sostiene che la Francia soffra soprattutto per un deficit di autorità, sovranità e controllo. La sinistra radicale individua invece il problema nella crescente disuguaglianza, nell’austerità, nell’indebolimento dei servizi pubblici e nella subordinazione delle scelte economiche agli interessi del grande capitale. Il campo macronista, nel frattempo, fatica sempre più a convincere che la continuazione delle politiche degli ultimi dieci anni possa rappresentare una risposta alla crisi prodotta proprio durante quel decennio.