Author: Andrey Sergeyevich ShishkovSource: Russian Institute for Strategic Studies In early December 2025, the White House released a new National Security Strategy that places significant emphasis on Latin America. The section devoted to world regions begins precisely with the Western Hemisphere, which indicates its priority importance for the Donald Trump administration. The document contains numerous revelations regarding Washington’s objectives in Latin America and the methods for achieving them. First and foremost, the United States declares that it is restoring and even strengthening the Monroe Doctrine in order to achieve dominance in the Western Hemisphere and prevent external actors from controlling strategically important assets, as well as from deploying forces and facilities in Latin American countries that could pose a threat to the United States. In addition, key objectives of U.S. policy are declared to be the termination of illegal migration from the region, the neutralization of drug cartels, and the strengthening of security, stability, and economic cooperation in the Western Hemisphere, including in the sphere of critically important minerals. According to the National Security Strategy, in order to achieve these goals the United States intends not only to work with its “longstanding friends” but also to expand its influence by cultivating relations with new partners. In the view of the document’s authors, Washington’s policy should be aimed at supporting U.S. allies in Latin America who can help create an “acceptable level of stability within their states and beyond.” The White House promises to reward those Latin American governments, political parties, and movements whose actions align with U.S. principles and objectives. At the same time, as noted in the document, the United States will also engage with leaders holding different views when common interests exist. Special attention in the new edition of the National Security Strategy is devoted to economic cooperation between the United States and Latin American states. It is noted that Latin America possesses important resources that the United States seeks to develop jointly with the countries of the region. In this regard, the U.S. National Security Council has been instructed to immediately begin compiling a list of such assets for the purpose of their protection and joint exploitation with regional partners. The authors of the strategy emphasize that the United States must take measures to ensure that Latin American countries view the U.S. as their preferred trading partner. It is also openly stated that Washington intends to obstruct, by various means, the interaction of Latin American states with extra-hemispheric actors. The document notes with regret that external powers have gained significant influence in Latin America in recent years. The authors of the strategy acknowledge that it will not be easy for the United States to completely push them out of the Western Hemisphere; nevertheless, the Americans intend to make every possible effort to squeeze out foreign companies that are constructing infrastructure facilities in Latin America. Although China is not mentioned directly, it is evident that it is the primary target implied by the authors of the document. The new strategy also raises the issue of reconfiguring the global military presence of the United States. Acknowledging that the United States cannot afford to devote equal attention to all regions of the world, Washington proposes to build up forces in the Western Hemisphere to counter threats allegedly emanating for the United States from Latin America. Within this framework, the Americans plan to strengthen security cooperation with Latin American states, including arms sales, joint exercises, intelligence sharing, and other measures. Overall, the approaches outlined in the Latin American section of the new U.S. National Security Strategy fully correspond to the course pursued by the Trump administration in Latin America in 2025. During this period, the United States undertook a number of steps to limit the influence of the People’s Republic of China in the Western Hemisphere, in particular by launching active efforts to displace Chinese companies from the port infrastructure of the Panama Canal. The United States actively cooperated with the most friendly Latin American leaders, maneuvered in its relations with others—especially Brazil—and increased pressure on its adversaries from the Bolivarian Alliance. In the economic sphere, threats of tariffs and the actual imposition of high duties were combined with the conclusion of trade and investment agreements with close partners. Thus, in November of the current year, the White House proposed new agreements to Argentina, El Salvador, Ecuador, and Guatemala, which, among other things, provide for expanded access to the U.S. market. Issues of countering illegal migration and drug trafficking from Latin America also occupied an important place on the Latin American agenda of the second Trump administration in 2025. Following the publication of the new version of the National Security Strategy, many experts raised the question of how Latin America would respond to such a policy by Washington in the region. To answer this question, it is necessary to take into account the complex domestic political processes underway in Latin American states. The current leaders of Latin American countries can be conditionally divided into several groups with regard to their relations with the Trump administration. The most friendly toward Washington at present are the presidents of Argentina, El Salvador, Ecuador, and Paraguay (J. Milei, N. Bukele, D. Noboa, and S. Peña, respectively). The new president of Bolivia, R. Paz, the head of Guatemala, B. Arévalo, and the leader of Costa Rica, R. Chaves, are also striving for close partnership with the United States. They are likely to be joined soon by Chilean politician J. Kast, who is considered the clear favorite in the second round of Chile’s presidential elections. At the same time, in the two largest countries of the region—Mexico and Brazil—left-wing presidents are in power, and their relations with the Trump administration are complex. C. Sheinbaum and Lula da Silva are ideologically far removed from the Republicans; however, Brazil and Mexico are strategically important countries for the United States in the Western Hemisphere, and therefore Washington continues to engage with them across a broad range of issues. Finally, the White House regards the leaders of Cuba, Venezuela, and Nicaragua—M. Díaz-Canel, N. Maduro, and D. Ortega—as its opponents and even enemies; in recent months they have been joined by Colombian President G. Petro. The United States is increasing pressure on these states and does not rule out the use of forceful methods against them. Analysts are also actively debating how realistic and achievable the goals of the current Republican administration in Latin America are. On the one hand, the implementation of Trump’s Latin American agenda is facilitated by the ongoing “rightward shift” in the region. Nearly all of the most significant elections in Latin America in 2025 ended in victories for right-wing forces, which may build on their success during the 2026 electoral cycle. At the same time, it is unlikely that Trump will be able to resolve many of the ambitious tasks outlined in the National Security Strategy within his remaining years in office. It should also not be forgotten that, despite the current political environment, not everyone in Latin America views Trump’s policies positively. Anti-American sentiment and strong notions of national sovereignty are characteristic of a significant portion of Latin Americans. For example, the majority of Brazilians reacted negatively to the tariffs imposed by Trump against their country, and perceptions of the United States in Brazil deteriorated. In turn, in a referendum in Ecuador, more than 60 percent voted against allowing foreign states to establish military bases on Ecuadorian territory, despite President Noboa having reached a preliminary agreement with the Trump administration on this issue. In conclusion, it should be noted that no U.S. president since the end of the Cold War has paid as much attention to Latin America as Trump did in the first year of his second term. It appears that many of the policy approaches developed by the current U.S. administration may be used by future American leaders who succeed the current occupant of the White House, especially Republicans. This will also be facilitated by the fact that the course pursued by Washington in the Latin American region over recent decades has largely exhausted itself—a point previously highlighted by analysts close to the Democratic Party. [...]
The Danish prime minister was sinking in the polls. America’s Greenland grab changed everything. Autor: Sebastian Starcevic and Jakob Weizman Sourse: Politico The question now is whether Mette Frederiksen will call an election anytime soon to capitalize on her political gains Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen has one person to thank for rescuing her from a looming political abyss: U.S. President Donald Trump. Frederiksen’s party has seen a dramatic surge in poll ratings through January — just months after awful results in last year’s local elections — as it launched a vehement defense of Denmark’s sovereignty against Trump’s aggressive threats to annex Greenland. “After a long time, they have finally drawn a clear line instead of appearing submissive,” said Per Clausen, a left-wing Danish MEP from the opposition Enhedslisten party, who credited the change in approach with driving a leap in voter support. The phenomenon is not unique to Denmark. In elections from Canada to Australia, standing up to Trump has become electoral rocket fuel, as leaders who frame themselves as defenders of national sovereignty and liberal democracy are being rewarded by voters eager for pushback against the U.S. president. Frederiksen’s center-left party — which governs in a coalition with the center-right Moderates and Venstre parties — netted 22.7 percent of the vote and 41 parliament seats in a new poll by Megafon, a reputable Danish consultancy, conducted from Jan. 20 to 22 among 1,012 Danes. That’s a sharp upswing from the last poll by Megafon in early December, which showed Frederiksen’s party winning just 32 seats. The Social Democrats currently hold 50 seats out of 179, and the latest polls show that it would still be the largest party in parliament with 41 seats, putting them back in pole position to lead coalition talks, but leaving them dependent on partners to maintain power. The uptick in support is even more notable given that the Social Democrats suffered a terrible result in municipal elections in November, which saw Frederiksen’s party lose Copenhagen, a symbolically important seat, for the first time in 100 years. The Moderates, led by Danish Foreign Minister Lars Løkke Rasmussen, nearly tripled its vote share in the poll from 2.2 percent to 6.4 percent, equal to about 12 seats. Another poll published Monday by the research institute Voxmeter for Danish news agency Ritzau showed support for Frederiksen’s Cabinet at 40.9 percent, the highest in two years. If an election were held now, the coalition would be forecast to win 73 seats. That would still leave them 17 seats short of the 90 needed for a majority and needing to negotiate with other parties — but is far from what just months ago looked like an imminent wipeout. Rally around the flag Since then, the world — and Danish politics — has changed dramatically. Trump said in early January that he would seize Greenland, a self-ruling Danish territory in the Arctic, by any means necessary, an oft-repeated threat that took on new menace after the American capture of Venezuelan leader Nicolás Maduro. Frederiksen, who has been in power since 2019, has mounted a spirited diplomatic defense of the Arctic island, successfully repelling Trump’s advances for now. And, according to the polls, Danes have rallied around her. Standing up to Trump has become electoral rocket fuel, as leaders who frame themselves as defenders of national sovereignty and liberal democracy are being rewarded by voters. | Mads Claus Rasmussen/EPA “There isn’t really another explanation for it,” said Anne Rasmussen, a political science professor at King’s College London and the University of Copenhagen, referring to the surge in support. “It’s first and foremost Greenland.” Rasmussen said the last time Denmark experienced such a wave of solidarity with its government was during the Covid pandemic, adding that national crises tend to favor incumbents. “I do think many Danes are currently moving towards the Social Democrats because the party is delivering on its core priorities … while also demonstrating strong leadership when even the most powerful man in the world challenges sovereignty,” said Danish MEP Christel Schaldemose, who hails from Frederiksen’s Social Democrats party. Frederiksen’s government also reached an agreement this week with left-wing parties to hand out €600 million in tax-free food vouchers to more than 2 million people hit by rising food prices. Tick tock The question now is whether Frederiksen will call an election anytime soon to capitalize on her political gains. Under Danish electoral law, the vote must be held before Nov. 1. Frederiksen has gambled with an early election before, holding a snap vote in 2022 amid falling support, which saw her snag victory. “It might look like a little bit too instrumental to do it in the middle of the biggest foreign policy crisis for Denmark and the world order … but it’s probably very likely that it will come before the summer,” Rasmussen said. “She will still wait a little bit, but I don’t think she will wait that long.” Frederiksen cut an influential figure in Brussels, especially during Denmark’s presidency of the Council of the EU in 2025, but had faltered domestically thanks to missteps ranging from her decision to cull Denmark’s entire population of 17 million minks to prevent the spread of Covid-19, to the dubious jailing of a former intelligence chief, providing an electoral opportunity for the opposition. The leader of Denmark’s right-wing Danish People’s Party, Morten Messerschmidt, told POLITICO that he would welcome earlier elections, calling them “a valuable opportunity” for the country to form a new government. Frederiksen, whose approval rating plummeted from 79 percent in 2020 to 34 percent in a December YouGov poll, rejected speculation that she would resign following the disastrous local elections in November. “They really had a bad election,” Rasmussen said, but added the government has since moved to address voters’ concerns on the cost of living with the food voucher scheme. That’s important because Frederiksen’s Greenland boost in the polls won’t last forever. “I don’t think it’s just going to sort of disappear overnight, but you can imagine that as some of the national issues again become more prominent on the agenda, people are going to base their judgments more on them when they think about who to vote for,” Rasmussen said. Frederiksen, who has been in power since 2019, has mounted a spirited diplomatic defense of the Arctic island, successfully repelling Trump’s advances for now. | Sean Gallup/Getty Images Rune Stubager, a professor of political science at the University of Aarhus, agreed that the Greenland crisis had caused “kind of a rallying effect,” but added “once the pressure subsides, I would, however, expect the government to drop again as attention would then turn to domestic issues.” Stine Bosse, a Danish MEP and member of the Moderates, said Frederiksen and the government’s handling of transatlantic tensions over Greenland would stand them in good stead. “This is probably the most difficult foreign policy situation Denmark has faced in many years, and the government has handled it in the best possible way,” said Bosse. “They have kept a cool head, a warm heart, and demonstrated a high level of professionalism.” [...]
Author: Vladimir Konstantinov The fate of the Islamic Republic is not only Iran’s problem. The earthquake shaking Tehran may have consequences beyond its borders—and those consequences are already beginning to be felt. Neighbors fear that the collapse of the regime could trigger further instability across the entire Middle East. Turkey under Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, a long-standing rival of Iran, prefers to adopt a cautious stance precisely for this reason. On the one hand, Ankara knows that a weakened Tehran helps expand its sphere of influence in the region, and Erdoğan certainly would not oppose Donald Trump. On the other hand, however, Turkey is also aware of what a possible collapse of the Republic would mean. It fears an explosion of instability along its border and the activation of minorities, especially the Kurds. Ankara is also concerned about a potential strengthening of Israel, which remains a strategic rival, as confirmed above all by the problems in Syria and the Gaza Strip. The Jewish state, on the other hand, is the first country in the region affected by what is happening in the Islamic Republic. Benjamin Netanyahu has always regarded Iran as his main adversary and a problem that must be resolved as quickly as possible. At his latest meetings with Donald Trump, they once again discussed the need for intervention to paralyze the ayatollahs’ missile and nuclear programs. Yesterday, after the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) were placed on combat readiness, the prime minister convened a security meeting to review all attack plans. The meeting took place just hours after the U.S. president himself called on Iranian protesters to continue their demonstrations and announced that “help” would “arrive soon.” The Israeli government considers the issue a priority. Tehran’s ballistic and nuclear ambitions are the most important element of Israel’s regional agenda, together with the network of militias and allied governments that for years has constituted Iran’s true strategic weapon. The “war on seven fronts” has so far given Israel a clear advantage. But after the 12-day war, Netanyahu also knows that Iranian missiles could penetrate the Jewish state’s air defenses and endanger the population in a year in which elections will be held. The crisis and the potential for war or regime collapse also worry Iran’s two main allies and partners: China and Russia. These two powers view Trump’s actions as a threat to their respective Eurasian spheres of influence, following the blow he dealt in Latin America. Yesterday, Iran’s Secretary of the Supreme National Security Council, Ali Larijani, met with his Russian counterpart Sergei Shoigu to “strengthen cooperation” between Moscow and Tehran. The two countries have signed a strategic partnership. It is well known that Iran has been supplying weapons and drones to Russia during the war in Ukraine. The question arises: will Vladimir Putin be able to provide significant assistance to the ayatollahs while he himself is waging a war? Meanwhile, the Moscow Times reported an increase in private jets flying from Tehran to Moscow and a possible relocation of part of Iran’s gold reserves to the Russian capital. The Federation cannot afford another strategic “slap” after Bashar al-Assad and the capture of Nicolás Maduro. Beijing cannot afford the same either, after reacting angrily yesterday to Trump’s decision to impose 25% tariffs on anyone trading with Iran. “We have always believed that there are no winners in a trade war, and China will resolutely defend its legitimate rights and interests,” said Foreign Ministry spokesperson Mao Ning. But for Chinese leader Xi Jinping, the issue appears extremely complex. The Islamic Republic is a strategic partner of the People’s Republic of China. Iran’s land corridor is crucial for Chinese goods. Tehran is a key component of the BRICS bloc and the Shanghai Cooperation Organization—two systems that form the pillars of China’s foreign agenda. And the multipolar world for which Beijing has been working tirelessly is beginning to hear an alarming warning bell from American activity. From Maduro’s fall to ambitions for Greenland and the issue of tariffs, China has always been in Trump’s sights. And a scenario in which Iran increasingly moves westward deeply worries the “Dragon,” which in recent years has built solid relations with the Islamic Republic based on oil and gas, in exchange for technology and tools to circumvent sanctions. But to sum up: Trump is entering territories in which other great powers—Russia and China—have interests. His indifference to the conflict in Ukraine is therefore understandable. For now, one of the players is preoccupied with it, but when the Russians achieve their goals, the game will change. Then the two colossi will present the bill—and Trump does not like to pay. [...]
Autor: Will Freeman Sourse: Foreign Affairs WILL FREEMAN is Fellow for Latin America Studies at the Council on Foreign Relations. On January 3, U.S. forces did something many observers thought impossible: they quickly captured and arrested Nicolás Maduro, Venezuela’s wily, seemingly coup-proof autocrat. For years, Maduro had proved himself an expert in authoritarian survival—crushing at least nine military mutinies and outlasting American economic pressure. But early Saturday morning, he fell practically without a fight. Delta Force helicopters took limited fire as they flew low over Caracas rooftops to Maduro’s bunker, where U.S. troops stormed inside, grabbed him and his wife, and whisked them to an aircraft carrier. Hours later, both were behind bars in New York, facing drug and weapons charges. No American lives were lost, although at least 80 Cubans and Venezuelans, including some civilians, were killed. The whole operation looked so easy that many analysts have reasonably wondered whether regime insiders abetted Maduro’s extraction, in effect staging a palace coup by proxy. At the same time, the operation was a dramatic display of U.S. President Donald Trump’s willingness to cast aside what’s left of the so-called rules-based international order and use military force to assert U.S. dominance over the Western Hemisphere. In the days since, Venezuelans living abroad have celebrated ecstatically. But the country itself has remained quiet. Most people seem to recognize that it’s possible little has really changed. Trump, after all, has left Maduro’s regime largely intact, recognizing Delcy Rodríguez, Maduro’s vice president, as interim president before she had even publicly accepted the position herself. The question is whether the shifts will remain relatively modest, or if Maduro’s extraction presages bigger changes within both Venezuela and the region. There is a wide variety of possibilities. Maduro’s removal might facilitate Venezuela’s transition to democracy, tank Cuba’s regime, and advance Trump’s bid to assert U.S. hemispheric dominance. Alternatively, a reshuffled Maduro regime might simply accept more deportees from the United States and give Washington control over its oil reserves, but otherwise change little. The regional shock waves could be limited. In fact, the inability to fundamentally change Venezuela might end up revealing the limits of American power. But the eventual outcomes will probably fall somewhere in between these two extremes. In the short-term, the consequences for Venezuela will likely be muted, as Trump tries to work with the reconfigured regime to secure his top objective: access to oil. Other Latin American governments might retaliate with words, but most will avoid responding with deeds so as not to incur Trump’s anger. As time goes on, however, the situation may become more fraught. Trump might attack Venezuela again, especially if Rodríguez is unwilling or, constrained by other regime figures, unable to comply with his directives. Venezuelan oil shipments to Cuba will likely decrease, weakening (although not necessarily collapsing) the island’s already flagging regime. Colombia could face American intervention, given that its left-wing president—unlike most of its neighbors—seems eager to fight with Trump and that Trump welcomes this dispute. And critically, Latin American countries, especially the larger, more geographically distant ones, may try to further diversify their economic and security relationships to reduce their exposure to an assertive and demanding Washington. Trump’s attack, in other words, could advance or set back his hemispheric dream. Top of Form Bottom of Form PATH OF LEAST RESISTANCE To figure out how Venezuela and the region might change, analysts should first pay attention to the breadth of the Trump administration’s demands of Venezuela’s reshuffled leadership. That will require looking less at the orders and aspirations Trump lists off the cuff in public, which are bound to vary, and more at the reports and leaks about what he and his team are privately pressing Caracas to deliver. One possibility is that these demands will be narrow: opening up Venezuela’s oil reserves to long-term U.S. control and investment, sidelining certain geopolitical rivals, including Iran and Cuba, and getting Caracas to accept an increased number of deportees. Trump alluded to such a scenario in his January 3 press conference, when he stressed the importance of Venezuela’s oil and evinced little interest in the restoration of its democracy. In fact, Trump barely mentioned Venezuela’s opposition; when he did, it was only to say that the opposition leader and recent Nobel Peace Prize-recipient, Maria Corina Machado, was insufficiently “respected” to run the country. By contrast, Trump suggested Rodríguez, a longtime loyalist to Maduro and his predecessor, Hugo Chávez, could make her country “great again.” Trump also said that a group of administration officials would “run” Venezuela, although the administration later declared that he meant Washington would run it indirectly by threatening the Maduro regime’s remaining leaders into complying with American demands. Such a limited U.S. agenda might satisfy many members of Trump’s team, including Vice President JD Vance, the top policy adviser Stephen Miller, and others skeptical of nation-building projects and more focused on domestic priorities. Trump might also perceive this path as the most doable and least unpopular with Americans, only a third of whom said they supported the use of military force to remove Maduro in a January 5 poll. One congressional staffer, speaking on the condition of anonymity, told me, “We just saw a trade deal with a change of leaders.” But other Trump allies have signaled they will press for harder, more ambitious shifts: namely, an eventual end to Venezuela’s Bolivarian socialist regime and a return to democracy, likely through negotiations. Such figures include Secretary of State Marco Rubio and important Republicans in Congress. Although Trump seems less interested in democracy, Rubio clearly has his and other administration officials’ ears on matters related to Latin America and may be able to convince them that a democratic transition will serve their interests. Republican lawmakers, for their part, might persuade Trump that pursuing only narrow, oil- and migration-centric goals will hurt the party electorally. That could especially prove true among Latino voters in Florida eager for regime change in Venezuela and Cuba, many of whom already feel betrayed by the harsher than expected implementation of Trump’s deportation policies. (Miami just elected a Democratic mayor for the first time in nearly 30 years.) The Latin American regime under the greatest immediate pressure may not be Venezuela’s. Trump’s decisions will also depend on what choices Venezuelan officials make next. If they defy the White House by refusing to hand over oil rights or to reduce ties with Cuba, Washington might again attack the country, as Trump has repeatedly stated. But cooperation seems the likelier path. Rodríguez, in particular, has a reputation for pragmatism. She may have condemned Washington’s attacks, but such statements could reflect a need to appease regime hard-liners and would-be rivals, such as Diosdado Cabello, the minister for interior, justice, and peace. They could also be designed to distract from suspicions that she helped turn Maduro in. Either way, they should not be taken at face value. According to reporting by The Miami Herald, last year, Rodríguez and her politically influential brother, who was just reappointed as head of the National Assembly, put forward a plan to U.S. officials in which she would replace Maduro and work with the United States, in exchange for keeping his system in place. (Rubio, according to the report, blocked the deal.) Rodríguez is also less committed to Cuba than Maduro was, which news outlets suggest is the result of her frustration with Cuba’s failure to reliably pay Venezuela for its oil shipments. At least some Trump administration officials told The New York Times off the record they think they can work with her. In fact, if she or other regime officials did secretly collude with the United States to turn over Maduro—as seems possible—then cooperation with Washington may already be underway. Trump has another incentive to keep his demands of Rodríguez narrow: if he does, she is more likely to agree to them. Most U.S. officials probably do not want to attack Caracas again. It is a move that, rather than compelling obedience, could easily sow chaos. A narrow deal—support for Rodríguez in exchange for more oil and less aid to Havana—is thus the path of least resistance for both sides. Of course, for Venezuela to cooperate with either narrow or broad demands, someone has to be in control of the country. Right now, that remains the Rodríguez siblings. But they face powerful potential challengers—most notably Cabello, who wields influence over Venezuela’s armed paramilitaries, or colectivos, as well as over the country’s national police and parts of its intelligence apparatus. He may want to stop Caracas from cooperating with the White House, which views him with great suspicion. (Cabello was indicted by the U.S. Department of Justice for drug trafficking, alongside Maduro.) If Cabello cannot get Rodríguez to follow his requests, he could try either to depose her or to make the country ungovernable. In that case, much would depend on what the head of Venezuela’s armed forces, Vladimir Padrino López—the regime’s third power center—opts to do. As of now, it is impossible to say who he might side with, or whether he could keep the military unified if infighting seriously intensifies. POWER PROBLEMS If Rodríguez works with Trump and maintains control of her country, then the Latin American regime under the greatest immediate pressure may not actually be Venezuela’s. Instead, it could be Cuba’s. The island is dependent on Venezuelan assistance, and it was in dire straits even before Trump had Maduro captured. The Cuban economy is in tatters. Tourism, its primary industry, has shrunk to at least half its pre-pandemic levels with no signs of rebounding. Crime and disease are on the rise as law enforcement and hospitals break down, thanks to insufficient financing. The island’s government has withstood enormous pressure before. But it is facing its greatest-ever crisis. The most immediate risk for Cuba’s rulers is energy. The island relies heavily on imported fuel, much of it sourced from Venezuela, to power its electrical grid, which is teetering on the brink of failure. Over 40 percent of the country goes without energy during peak hours. Some provinces have power for just two to four hours a day. If Washington now cuts Cuba off from almost all Venezuelan oil—the U.S. naval blockade having already stopped some shipments—the grid could collapse. Havana will surely look to other countries to step in, but it is unlikely to find many suppliers. Mexico sends some oil currently, but less than in previous years. With Trump repeatedly threatening to attack Mexican territory, its officials are unlikely to increase supplies now. Brazil doesn’t seem inclined to replace Venezuela either, since leftist President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, known as Lula, who is running for reelection next year, knows that doing so would undermine his newly improved relationship with Trump and potentially invite election meddling. Russia, strained by its invasion of Ukraine, and China are also unlikely to fill the vacuum. If Havana, usually protected from prolonged blackouts, plunges into darkness, the regime could face mass protests as large as or larger than those of July 2021. (The 2021 demonstrations, the first of their scale in decades, showed the depth and breadth of public anger.) Such protests might prove tough to contain, especially if they played out in dense Havana neighborhoods. Cuba’s security forces frequently engage in brutal methods of smothering unrest—detention, torture, threats. But they have never shot and kill dozens of people at a protest. It is unclear what would happen if that changed and whether protests might cascade. Trump has threatened to use direct military force against Colombia. Still, it’s entirely possible the regime could survive even this dire situation. The Cuban military has immense stakes in the government’s survival, given that it controls much of the economy through a web of companies that would vanish after a political transition. And it seems no one on the island is in a position to challenge the armed forces. As with Maduro’s regime, deposing Cuba’s communist regime might require a U.S. military operation—a maneuver that neither Trump nor the American public seemingly has much appetite for. The president, for example, recently stated he believes the Cuban regime will fall on its own, without direct U.S. involvement. Trump has, however, threatened to use direct military force against Colombia. He has said the country is “run by a sick man, who likes making cocaine and selling it to the United States, and he’s not going to be doing it for very long.” Colombian President Gustavo Petro, unlike the Venezuelan and Cuban leaders, was democratically elected. He is a leftist ideologically opposed to Trump and who was at times friendly with Maduro. Yet Petro is not changing his behavior. To the contrary, he has relished the confrontation, both because it gives him a much-sought international pedestal and because he thinks it will help his political successor. Colombia’s presidential election is just months away, and Petro’s preferred candidate, Iván Cepeda, is likely to face scrutiny over the current government’s unmet policy promises. Petro is eager to shift the conversation away from domestic challenges, and squaring off against Trump serves that purpose. There are reasons to doubt that Trump will make good on his threats against Bogotá. Washington seems to expect that a conservative president will win in May. The United States also relies on Colombia, its main Latin American security partner, to help with much of its regional counternarcotics efforts, even if current U.S.-Colombian tensions have obstructed them. But Trump is unpredictable, and if Petro continues to forthrightly respond to U.S. actions in Venezuela, Trump could intervene forcefully in some way. AMERICAS FIRST? Beyond Cuba, Colombia, and of course Venezuela, Maduro’s removal may have more limited near-term consequences. Lula criticized Washington’s strikes, but his government quickly recognized Rodríguez as interim president and made no real effort to defend Maduro. Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum, another leftist and occasional Maduro apologist, likewise has other priorities: navigating upcoming trade renegotiations and avoiding U.S. military strikes on Mexican soil against drug cartels. Mexico’s dependence on trade with the United States sharply limits her room for maneuver. This silence indicates that much of the Western Hemisphere is, for now, Washington’s domain. For years, analysts have watched China make inroads in the region and argued that U.S. influence was slipping. But Maduro’s seizure suggests that past administrations—out of caution, respect for law and norms, and sometimes neglect—simply didn’t exercise the substantial leverage that Washington has long possessed. It is uncertain, however, whether Trump’s intervention in Venezuela will become a testament to American power or expose its limits, and eventually contribute to its erosion. Many countries are already responding to Trump’s punitive use of tariffs by hurrying to strengthen diplomatic and trade ties with Asia and Europe. Some states, including Brazil and Colombia, are experimenting with building closer defense and tech ties, respectively, with China. Maduro’s extraction may accelerate these trends. Trump could also lose interest in Washington’s so-called near abroad, moving on to other items on his international agenda. The administration’s recently issued National Security Strategy puts the Western Hemisphere above every other region, and Maduro’s capture and the massive U.S. naval buildup in the Caribbean suggests that this ambition is not simply rhetoric. But this reallocation of assets may or may not endure. Outside of Rubio, few officials in the Trump administration seem personally invested in an “Americas first” foreign policy that goes beyond more regional security cooperation and increased deportations. What Trump does next in Venezuela and the Caribbean will thus be very telling. His interventions will test just how far U.S. power to shape hemispheric affairs reaches. [...]
Author: Dr. Ilko Semerdzhiev Overview of Bulgaria’s GDP for the Period 2005–2025 Due to the constant manipulation by Boyko Borissov—especially regarding verifiable facts related to the country’s economy—I took the trouble to review the official reports on the execution of the State Budget (the Consolidated Fiscal Program) for the period 2005–2024. First, the use of 2005 to calculate GERB’s contribution is misleading and, in essence, represents a public deception. Why? Because in that year Borissov only became Mayor of Sofia, and his so-called “contribution” to GDP actually amounts to appropriating the results of the government of Sergey Stanishev, whose mandate began on 17 August 2005 and lasted until 27 July 2009. That government left the country with a GDP of BGN 73.181 billion, or EUR 37.417 billion. Borissov’s first government had a mandate from 27 July 2009 to 13 March 2013, with the following indicators: 2010 – GDP of BGN 74.888 billion; 2011 – GDP of BGN 81.126 billion; 2012 – GDP of BGN 82.643 billion.On average, this amounts to 3% annual GDP growth. Borissov’s second government had a mandate from 7 November 2014 to 27 January 2017, with the following indicators: 2015 – GDP of BGN 89.571 billion; 2016 – GDP of BGN 95.349 billion.Again, the average annual GDP growth was 3%. Note:It turns out that the government of Plamen Oresharski and the caretaker governments of Marin Raykov and Georgi Bliznashki, over two years (2013 and 2014), generated GDP growth of BGN 26.883 billion, while Borissov, over the three years of his first mandate, achieved an increase of only BGN 7.755 billion. Borissov’s third government had the following indicators: 2017 – GDP of BGN 102.683 billion; 2018 – GDP of BGN 109.526 billion; 2019 – GDP of BGN 119.686 billion; 2020 – GDP of BGN 120.979 billion.The average annual GDP growth was 3.7%. In the period 2021–2024, six caretaker governments alternated, along with the governments of Kiril Petkov and Nikolai Denkov, with the following indicators: 2021 – GDP of BGN 139.537 billion; 2022 – GDP of BGN 168.354 billion; 2023 – GDP of BGN 184.875 billion; 2024 – GDP of BGN 204.907 billion.On average, this represents 8% annual GDP growth. 2025 – GDP of EUR 112.903 billion, or BGN 220.819 billion—only BGN 15.9 billion more than in 2024, and entirely accumulated through debt, which exceeds the reported growth. Conclusion: Borissov has no grounds whatsoever to claim Bulgaria’s economic growth as his own. On the contrary, the contribution of his governments from 2010 amounted to an increase from BGN 75 billion to BGN 120 billion by 2020, and if we subtract the BGN 27 billion growth achieved by the governments of Oresharski, Raykov, and Bliznashki, what remains is a mere BGN 18 billion increase for the period 2010–2020. The increase from 2021 to 2024 amounts to BGN 65.370 billion. Recapitulation: Over 11 years, from 2010 to 2020 inclusive, Borissov’s governments increased GDP by BGN 18 billion; The subsequent governments, from 2021 to 2024 inclusive, increased GDP by BGN 65 billion in just 4 years. Boyko Borissov’s boasts are unfounded. [...]
Аutor: JUAN S. GONZALEZ Source: Foreign Affairs JUAN S. GONZALEZ served in the U.S. Department of State from 2004 to 2016 and as Senior Director for Western Hemisphere Affairs on the National Security Council from 2021 to 2024. FRAGMENTATION WITHOUT RESOLUTION Maduro’s removal does not mean the collapse of Chavismo—the hybrid ideological, political, and criminal system built around the Bolivarian project of Hugo Chávez (Maduro’s predecessor, who first came to power in 1999 and died in office in 2013) and sustained through patronage, repression, and illicit finance. The regime was never a single structure. It was a coalition, held together by access to rents and a shared fear of retribution. With Maduro gone, that coalition will splinter. But splintering is not the same as political transition. The decisive variable is the armed forces. There is little evidence of a clean institutional break suggesting a rapid transfer of power. A more likely scenario is prolonged bargaining, selective defection, and hedging. Some commanders will seek accommodation with whatever authority emerges. Others will dig in, betting that uncertainty works in their favor. Civilian power brokers—governors, party officials, economic intermediaries—will follow the same calculus. Venezuela’s constitution offers a narrow, contested path forward. It calls for new elections within 30 days following a presidential vacancy, while also recognizing the results of the July 2024 vote that Maduro refused to honor—a vote that produced a clear opposition victory for Edmundo González, a former diplomat chosen to run in place of opposition leader, María Corina Machado, a victory widely recognized abroad but never enforced at home. The tension between constitutional procedure and political reality captures the core challenge ahead: legality alone will not resolve the transition without enforcement and buy-in from those who still control coercive power. A peaceful transition remains possible. It will require calibrated pressure, credible guarantees, and a willingness to prioritize reintegration over blanket punishment. Otherwise, spoilers will emerge—not only ideological hard-liners, but rational actors acting in self-preservation. Complicating matters is the ecosystem Maduro left behind: traffickers, corrupt officials, armed groups, security actors. These entities are deeply embedded in the state and economy. Removing the figurehead does not dismantle the system. THE NEXT FOREVER WAR? Failure would be costly, for both the United States and Venezuela. A rapid U.S. disengagement risks leaving Venezuela in limbo—ungoverned, unstable, and continuing to hemorrhage people and capital. Staying too long carries a different danger: entanglement in a low-grade conflict that drains U.S. attention, legitimacy, and political will. This is the paradox of intervention: too little invites chaos, too much invites quagmire. The margin for error is thin, and the costs of miscalculation would be felt far beyond Venezuela’s borders. A protracted crisis would create space for additional external intervention. Iran and Russia have leaned on security ties. China has played a longer game—focused on infrastructure, finance, and market access. A heavy-handed U.S. military presence could unintentionally strengthen Beijing’s position by reinforcing the perception that Washington offers coercion while China offers development. This is where the “Donroe Doctrine” falls short. Military power is no longer the most effective tool for shaping outcomes in Latin America and the Caribbean. It may have been in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, when the United States imposed order through occupations and gunboat diplomacy. But today, the contest for influence in the hemisphere is no longer primarily military. It is economic and technological. China recognized this years ago, embedding itself in supply chains, ports, power grids, and digital infrastructure—often stepping in where Washington relied on sanctions or lectures. Without economic follow-through, military primacy will not drive China out of Venezuela or the region. It will encourage hedging. If oil revenues are diverted externally, political sovereignty will be hollow. Regional and global reactions to the U.S. strike make clear the importance of what happens next. Brazil, Colombia, and Mexico have condemned the U.S. move, even as many Venezuelans openly celebrate Maduro’s removal. European responses—from Brussels, London, and Paris—have been cautious rather than critical: broadly supportive of the outcome, but reserving judgment on the methods and the aftermath. Support for Maduro’s removal is real. Endorsement of how the United States manages what follows is conditional. The balance sheet, rather than the battlefield, will prove to be the more decisive arena—and here, Trump’s instinct to reward political allies risks diverting capital and control away from the long-term investment required to rebuild Venezuela’s economy. The country has lost more than three-quarters of its GDP in a decade. Oil production has collapsed, even as the country continues to have some of the most extensive reserves in the world (the largest by some measures). Public services barely function. No post-conflict recovery effort in the hemisphere approaches this scale. In that context, control over oil revenues is not a technical issue—it is the central determinant of whether any future government can govern at all. If those revenues are diverted externally, political sovereignty will be hollow, regardless of elections. Control over Venezuelan oil carries global implications. Even under optimistic assumptions, infrastructure decay, capital constraints, creditor claims, and political risk will slow production growth in the short term. Over time, however, Venezuelan supply could meaningfully alter global balances. In that scenario, Washington would become a de facto participant in shaping global oil markets—functionally inserting itself into the logic of OPEC+ without formal membership. This is an opportunity for the United States to compete where it holds real advantages. Economic statecraft—not military dominance—will determine whether Venezuela’s reintegration strengthens U.S. influence or undermines it. Stabilization will require far more than sanctions relief. It demands private investment, debt restructuring, restored energy production, and integration into the technological shifts reshaping the global economy. Latin America and the Caribbean stand on the edge of structural change—in artificial intelligence, health care, clean energy, and advanced manufacturing. Venezuela must participate in that future, or remain trapped in extraction and dependency. THE PATHS AHEAD Three broad scenarios appear likely in the immediate aftermath of Maduro’s forced exit. The first path is a managed transition. Elections may proceed, but whether a single opposition figure emerges as a viable governing leader remains uncertain. Machado’s political momentum, although real, does not automatically translate into governing authority in a post-Maduro landscape shaped by institutional decay, security players with veto power, and unresolved power balances. Exile, fragmentation, and fatigue have weakened the opposition bench. Power could instead coalesce around an interim authority or technocratic arrangement acceptable to key domestic actors, including elements of the former regime and the armed forces. This scenario offers the best chance of stabilization, but only if paired with rapid economic relief and credible security guarantees. The second path is criminalized continuity. Much of the regime’s coercive and criminal architecture remains intact. Armed groups and traffickers continue to operate. Political change becomes cosmetic, while instability persists. Power could be formally handed to a civilian placeholder—such as Vice President Delcy Rodríguez—who offers international interlocutors procedural continuity while preserving the underlying networks that sustained the regime. Early signals would include selective prosecutions, quiet assurances to security elites, and the preservation of control over key revenue streams rather than their reform. The third path is escalation. Power struggles turn violent, armed actors proliferate, and the United States—having claimed ownership—faces pressure to intervene again. What begins as stabilization risks becoming another open-ended commitment. Which path prevails will depend less on the operation that removed Maduro than on the U.S. strategy that follows. Venezuela is now a test—not just of American power, but of American judgment. The temptation to declare victory and move on will be strong. So will the impulse to control outcomes directly. Both must be resisted. If Trump and Rubio succeed, they will reshape hemispheric politics and validate a hard-edged vision of U.S. leadership. If they fail, the costs will echo for years—fueling migration, empowering adversaries, and reinforcing skepticism about American intervention. Venezuela’s future will be decided not by Maduro’s removal, but by the discipline, restraint, and economic imagination applied in its aftermath. [...]
Аutor: JUAN S. GONZALEZ Sourse: Foreign Affairs JUAN S. GONZALEZ served in the U.S. Department of State from 2004 to 2016 and as Senior Director for Western Hemisphere Affairs on the National Security Council from 2021 to 2024. The United States’ use of military force to remove Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro marks a turning point for Venezuela and for U.S. policy in the Western Hemisphere. But it would be a mistake to confuse drama with resolution. Images of Maduro in U.S. custody create the impression of finality. Yet this is not the beginning of the end of Washington’s long struggle with Venezuela. It marks the end of the beginning, and the start of a far more difficult and perilous phase. The Trump administration is treating the removal of Maduro as a tactical success that speaks for itself, even as it deliberately assumes responsibility for what comes next. President Donald Trump has been explicit about that choice. By announcing that the United States will “run Venezuela” for a while, he is not merely projecting confidence. He is intentionally assuming responsibility for the political, economic, and security consequences that follow. History offers a warning. In May 2003, President George W. Bush stood beneath a “Mission Accomplished” banner and declared victory in Iraq. What followed was not stabilization, but fragmentation—an insurgency, a legitimacy crisis, and years of costly entanglement. Venezuela now sits at a similar inflection point. Removing Maduro could open the door to a durable transition. It could just as easily draw the United States into a dangerous quagmire. If Washington manages the next phase with discipline—combining coercion with incentives, and force with political legitimacy—it could reset Venezuela’s trajectory, pull the country back into the community of democracies in the hemisphere, and reassert U.S. influence in a region that has spent the past decade hedging against American power. If this happens, the payoff would be substantial. Venezuela’s collapse over the past two decades has been the single largest driver of irregular migration, transnational crime, corruption, and illicit financial flows in the hemisphere, negatively affecting U.S. interests. Stabilization would address those problems at their source rather than at the U.S. border. It would also shut down a permissive environment that allowed the Maduro regime to commit systematic crimes against its own population—crimes that hollowed out Venezuelan society while exporting instability abroad. And it would deprive U.S. adversaries (including China, Iran, and Russia) of a strategic foothold. But achieving such an outcome will take a degree of skillful policy and fortunate circumstance that are far from assured in any administration. The plausible paths of failure include a partial transition that leaves criminal networks intact, a prolonged period of political limbo that sustains migration and instability, or a creeping security commitment that the United States never intended but finds difficult to unwind. What happens next will determine whether this moment becomes a hinge in hemispheric history or another entry in the long catalogue of American overreach. THE GAMBLE The operation that ended Maduro’s rule carries the unmistakable imprint of Trump and Secretary of State Marco Rubio. It reflects a worldview that prizes decisiveness, spectacle, and payoff—political and economic alike. For Trump, Venezuela is less a foreign policy problem to be managed than an asset to be exploited. The United States, he insists, will “run the country,” extract and sell Venezuelan oil, and convert geopolitical leverage into tangible return. This is mercantilism, unapologetically applied: statecraft blurred with profit, and opportunity created not just for U.S. firms but also for political allies and intermediaries close to power in particular. Those instincts are already shaping expectations in the energy sector. Beyond Chevron, U.S. companies such as ConocoPhillips—long mired in litigation over expropriated assets—are widely expected to reenter Venezuela. But Trump’s room to maneuver is narrow. Most producing fields are already contractually awarded, including to Chinese firms that will insist that those agreements be honored. This constrains Washington’s options and increases the temptation to bypass Venezuela’s future government altogether. If the United States instead seeks to capture Venezuelan state oil revenues directly, it will leave little fiscal space for domestic reconstruction—effectively ensuring that Washington “runs” Venezuela regardless of who formally holds office. Maduro’s removal does not mean the collapse of chavismo. For Rubio, the stakes are different but no less significant. For years, he has argued that incremental pressure only entrenched the regime while expanding Chinese, Iranian, and Russian influence. This moment offers a chance to prove that hard power can deliver outcomes where diplomacy and sanctions failed and to reshape the terms of debate over U.S. leadership in the hemisphere. If the bet pays off, the implications extend well beyond Caracas. It would validate what critics have labeled the “Don-roe Doctrine,” a Trump-era reinterpretation of the Monroe Doctrine that favors unilateral enforcement over multilateral restraint. It signals that Washington is prepared to reassert primacy in its near abroad, even at the cost of institutional friction and diplomatic discomfort. This would force a recalibration across Latin America and the Caribbean, reminding governments that U.S. disengagement is a choice, not a constraint—and that American power, when exercised, can be decisive enough to leave them few options for open opposition. It would also embolden Washington advocates who favor strategic and commercial results over diplomatic process and persuasion in hemispheric policy. But that logic rests on assumptions forged in another era. The Monroe Doctrine worked when U.S. power was unrivaled in the hemisphere and external competitors were distant. That world no longer exists. [...]
Аutor: Elizabeth Economy Sourse: Foreign Affairs OUT IN THE COLD The deep ocean is hardly the only frontier that Xi wants to master. In 2014, he also declared his intent to make China a great polar power. Like the seabed, the Arctic is rich in natural resources, containing an estimated 13 percent of the world’s undiscovered oil supplies, 30 percent of its undiscovered natural gas, and significant stores of rare-earth elements. As the ice there melts, it will also be home to new shipping corridors—like the one used by the Istanbul Bridge. In a 2018 white paper on the Arctic, Beijing promised to build a “polar Silk Road” by developing such routes and investing in the region’s resources and infrastructure. It also reframed Arctic governance to include issues such as climate change and to advance the rights of non-Arctic countries. “The future of the Arctic concerns the interests of the Arctic states, the well-being of non-Arctic states, and that of humanity as a whole,” the paper declared. “The governance of the Arctic requires the participation and contribution of all stakeholders.” Beijing’s interest in the Arctic is not new. In 1964, China established the State Oceanic Administration, a government agency whose mandate included conducting polar expeditions. Its Arctic-related research accelerated in the late 1970s and early 1980s. In 1989, the government founded the Shanghai-based Polar Research Institute, and it expanded its Arctic research capabilities and partnerships throughout the 1990s and early 2000s. In 2013, China became an observer to the governing Arctic Council, which consists of representatives of Canada, Denmark (which includes Greenland), Finland, Iceland, Norway, Russia, Sweden, and the United States, as well as indigenous peoples. Since then, China has become one of the council’s most active observer members, participating in a wide array of working groups and task forces. Chinese researchers continue to argue that China should play a larger role in Arctic decision-making because climate change has made the Arctic an issue of global commons and because Chinese companies are essential to Arctic shipping and energy. Beijing’s efforts have encountered resistance. Arctic countries have grown concerned about becoming overreliant on Chinese investment and the resulting security risks. Canada, Denmark, Iceland, and Sweden all rejected or canceled a number of Chinese Arctic projects in their territories. According to a 2025 study by the Belfer Center, of China’s 57 proposed investment projects in the Arctic, only 18 are active. But while democratic countries have mostly closed themselves off to new Chinese investment, a different kind of state has opened its doors: Russia. Since 2018, China and Russia have institutionalized their bilateral consultations on the Arctic. Their relationship became especially pronounced after Moscow invaded Ukraine in 2022 and was economically isolated from the rest of the Arctic Council’s members. Since then, Chinese companies have signed agreements to develop a titanium mine and a lithium deposit, as well as to construct a new railway and deep-water port. Together, China and Russia’s capabilities for Arctic exploration, commerce, and patrol far exceed those of the United States. China has also used its partnership with Russia to enhance its military access to the region. Starting in 2022, the two countries have even conducted multiple joint exercises, including in the Bering Sea, the Chukchi Sea, and the greater Arctic Ocean, as well as a joint bomber patrol near the coast of Alaska. Beijing and Moscow have also teamed up to bring the BRICS more directly into Arctic discussions. They established a BRICS working group on ocean and polar science and technology, and Russia has invited the body to develop an international scientific station on the Svalbard archipelago. China’s outreach, however, has come up short. Brazilian and Indian engagement with the Arctic has been primarily through bilateral partnerships with Russia. Some Indian analysts have expressed outright concern about China’s expanding role in the region. And despite the seeming alignment between China and Russia, Moscow has not supported Beijing’s pitch for an expanded role in Arctic governance. Their shared military exercises are largely performative. In 2020, the Russian Foreign Ministry’s special envoy to the Arctic Council, Nikolai Korchunov, agreed with then U.S. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo’s comment that there are two groups of countries, Arctic and non-Arctic, and suggested that China had no Arctic identity. That same year, Moscow charged a Russian professor who studies the Arctic with high treason after he provided China with classified materials relating to submarine detection methods. BOLDLY GO WHERE NO ONE HAS GONE BEFORE Then there is the final frontier: space. As early as 1956, China deemed space exploration a national security priority. On the heels of the Soviet and U.S. satellite launches in 1957 and 1958, Chinese leader Mao Zedong pronounced, “We too shall make satellites.” The country then followed through, launching Dong Fang Hong 1 into orbit in April 1970. Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, China created an extensive space program driven by scientific, economic, and military imperatives. In 2000, the government published its first white paper outlining its priorities in outer space. They included making use of the resources of space, achieving crewed spaceflight, and undertaking space explorations centered on the moon. Space is also a particular priority for Xi. “Developing the space program and turning the country into a space power is the space dream that we have continuously pursued,” he said in 2013. In 2017, China laid out a road map to become a “world-leading space power by 2045,” with planned major breakthroughs. It has delivered: in addition to its advancing commercial space program, China has developed sophisticated space warfare capabilities, including a growing constellation of reconnaissance, communications, and early warning satellites. Of the more than 700 satellites that China has placed in orbit, over one-third serve military purposes. The country’s 2022 white paper heralded all this progress. Some U.S. space officials and experts believe that China will surpass the United States as the leading space-faring nation within the next five to ten years, including by being the first to return humans to the moon since the U.S. Apollo 17 mission in 1972. As with the deep seabed, China’s significant technological capabilities and the frontier’s more open governance enable Beijing to play a significant leadership role in space. Beijing has become an important partner for other less developed countries interested in space research and exploration. It boasts bilateral agreements with 26 states. It also collaborates with the UN Office for Outer Space Affairs to carry out experiments from its Tiangong space station. Beijing’s most meaningful bid for space leadership, however, is the planned International Lunar Research Station, a joint effort between China and Russia first announced in 2017. It is slated to begin as a permanent base at the moon’s south pole and eventually expand into a network of orbital and surface facilities supporting exploration, resource extraction, and long-term habitation. China aims to get 50 countries, 500 international research institutions, and 5,000 overseas researchers to join the ILRS by offering them opportunities for scientific training, cooperation, and access to some Chinese and Russian space technologies. To that end, it has pitched the ILRS through multilateral organizations, such as the BRICS and the Shanghai Cooperation Organization. Beijing and Moscow have positioned the ILRS as an alternative to the U.S.-led Artemis program—Washington’s attempt to get back to the moon—and to the Artemis Accords. The accords, established in 2020 by the United States and seven other countries, set forth nonbinding principles and guidelines for peaceful space exploration, the use of space resources, the preservation of space heritage, interoperability, and the sharing of scientific data. The accords are designed to be consistent with existing international space treaties and conventions; as of early November, 60 countries have signed on. One senior Chinese expert described the accords as an American attempt to colonize and establish “sovereignty over the moon.” But China has been relatively unsuccessful at drawing countries into its venture. The ILRS has attracted only 11 states in addition to China and Russia, several of which have either no space program or only a nascent one. Two of the countries that joined the ILRS, Senegal and Thailand, later also joined the Artemis Accords. The broader appeal of the latter stems from several factors. Unlike the ILRS, the accords build on existing scientific, security, and commercial relations between NASA and other countries. They provide smaller states with opportunities to advance their own space industries. They offer clear norms of transparency, interoperability, and data sharing, and they do not entangle countries in Russia’s isolation from much of the world’s economic and scientific endeavors. Finally, unlike with the ILRS, countries that sign the Artemis Accords will have an opportunity to send their astronauts to the moon through NASA’s lunar program. [...]
Аutor: Elizabeth Economy Sourse: Foreign Affairs ELIZABETH ECONOMY is Hargrove Senior Fellow at Stanford University’s Hoover Institution. From 2021 to 2023, she served as a senior adviser on China policy at the U.S. Department of Commerce. Before that, she spent over a decade as a Senior Fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations. She is the author of The World According to China and The Third Revolution: Xi Jinping and the New Chinese State. When the Chinese cargo ship Istanbul Bridge docked at the British port of Felixstowe on October 13, 2025, the arrival might have appeared unremarkable. The United Kingdom is China’s third-largest export market, and boats travel between the two countries all year. What was remarkable about the Bridge was the route it had taken—it was the first major Chinese cargo ship to travel directly to Europe via the Arctic Ocean. The trip took 20 days, weeks faster than the traditional routes through the Suez Canal or around the Cape of Good Hope. Beijing hailed the journey as a geostrategic breakthrough and a contribution to supply chain stability. Yet the more important message was unstated: the extent of China’s economic and security ambitions in a new realm of global power. Beijing’s efforts in the Arctic are just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. As early as the 1950s, Chinese leaders discussed competition in the world’s literal and figurative frontiers: the deep seas, the poles, outer space, and what the former People’s Liberation Army officer Xu Guangyu described as “power spheres and ideology,” concepts that today include cyberspace and the international financial system. These domains form the strategic foundations of global power. Control over them determines access to critical resources, the future of the Internet, the many benefits that derive from printing the world’s reserve currency, and the ability to defend against an array of security threats. As most analysts focus on the symptoms of competition—tariffs, semiconductor supply chain cutoffs, and short-term technological races—Beijing is building capabilities and influence in the underlying systems that will define the decades ahead. Doing so is central to President Xi Jinping’s dream of reclaiming China’s centrality on the global stage. “We can play a major role in the construction of the playgrounds even at the beginning, so that we can make rules for new games,” Xi said in 2014. Beijing has positioned itself well for this contest. It approaches these frontiers with a consistent logic and playbook. It is investing in the necessary hard capabilities. It is partnering with other countries to embed itself in institutions and flooding these bodies with Chinese experts and officials, who then campaign for change. When it cannot co-opt existing institutions, it builds new ones. In all these efforts, Beijing is highly adaptive, experimenting with different platforms, reframing positions, and deploying capabilities in new ways. Top of Form Bottom of Form Top of Form Bottom of Form American policymakers have only started waking up to the full extent of China’s success at building power in key areas of today’s world. Now, they are at risk of missing its commitment to dominating tomorrow’s. The United States, in other words, is not just abdicating its role in the current international system. It is falling behind in the fight to define the next one. TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA In 1872, the British sent a ship to retrieve the world’s first store of polymetallic nodules: clumps of ocean debris that can contain critical minerals such as manganese, nickel, and cobalt. But it was not until the early 1960s that scientists posited these nodules could have significant financial benefits. In the mid-1970s, the U.S. company Deepsea Ventures, a subsidiary of Tenneco, claimed that it could fill nearly all the military’s demand for nickel and cobalt by mining the Pacific Ocean floor. Deepsea Ventures never got the permissions it needed to dredge up huge quantities of nodules, and eventually, it folded. But meanwhile, other international actors had begun negotiations over countries’ rights and obligations regarding the world’s oceans. These negotiations culminated in the adoption of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, which came into force in November 1994. It included governance rules over the deep-seabed resources that lay beyond countries’ territorial waters. The parties to the convention established and, along with the world’s major mining companies, funded the International Seabed Authority to manage these resources. China began its own research into deep-seabed mining in the late 1970s. Its scientists and engineers developed prototypes of submersibles and machines that can mine as well as survey the ocean floor. In 1990, Beijing established the state-controlled China Ocean Mineral Resources Research and Development Association to coordinate its seabed prospecting and mining in international waters. It built seabed mining capabilities into its five-year plans starting in 2011. And in 2016, Beijing passed a deep-seabed law designed to develop China’s scientific and commercial capabilities and to provide a framework for engaging in international negotiations regarding ocean floorresources. In the process, China created at least 12 institutions dedicated to deep-sea research and built the world’s largest fleet of civilian research vessels. Xi has targeted the deep seabed as a priority area for Chinese leadership. “The deep sea contains treasures that remain undiscovered and undeveloped,” he said in May 2016. “In order to obtain these treasures, we have to control key technologies in getting into the deep sea, discovering the deep sea, and developing the deep sea.” China already dominates land-based global supply chains of rare-earth elements, and a lead in deep-seabed mining would only enhance its chokehold over these minerals. Deep-seabed mining would also advance another Chinese security imperative by facilitating the mapping of the seabed and the laying of undersea cables that can be used in support of naval and submarine warfare. “There is no road in the deep sea,” Xi said in 2018. “We do not need to chase : we are the road.” When China cannot co-opt existing institutions, it builds new ones. As China’s domestic capabilities have expanded, so has its role in the International Seabed Authority. Since 2001, Beijing has served almost continuously on the ISA Council, the 36-member executive body that makes key decisions about mining regulations, contract approvals, and environmental regulations. China supplies significant support to the body, including by submitting papers and commenting on drafts. It has placed its own experts and officials in key ISA technical roles, and it provides more monetary support for the ISA than any other country. It has positioned itself to exert greater influence in shaping the rules and regulations that govern the exploration and exploitation of seabed resources. Chinese firms have already secured five seabed mining exploration contracts from the ISA—the most of any country. China is actively courting emerging and middle-income economies with its deep-sea capabilities, encouraging countries and companies that need Chinese-built platforms, vessels, or processing capabilities to align themselves with Beijing’s interests. China has established a research partnership with the Cook Islands with an eye toward eventually exploiting the seabed minerals in the area, and it is exploring a similar agreement with Kiribati. In 2020, in partnership with the ISA, Beijing established a training and research center in Qingdao to provide officials from developing countries with practical experience, such as operating underwater vehicles, and with opportunities for joint research. And within the BRICS, a ten-country group named for its first five members (Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa), China has sought to build cooperation via a BRICS deep-sea research center in Hangzhou. But Beijing has also faced troubles along the way. Despite its cooperative initiatives, China is in a small minority of countries that advocate for a more accelerated approach to mining. According to a Carnegie Endowment report, in 2023 Beijing “single-handedly” prevented the ISA from discussing marine ecosystem protection and a precautionary pause on mining licenses. This places it at odds with almost 40 other ISA members, which support a pause or moratorium on mining until rigorous monitoring and environmental safeguards are in place. China has also not convinced BRICS members: Brazil supports a ten-year precautionary pause, and South Africa wants strong environmental frameworks and economic protections. India favors faster development but is wary of China’s use of research vessels for military purposes. And many governments in the Asia-Pacific, such as those in Japan, Malaysia, the Philippines, Palau, and Taiwan, are worried about military-motivated incursions into their exclusive economic zones by China’s deep-sea survey vessels. Although Beijing has not yet won the rule-setting battle in the ISA, it is not sitting still. It is investing furiously in dual-use seabed mining technologies—those valuable for both civilian and military purposes—such as autonomous underwater vehicles and crewed submersibles that will enable it to dominate commercial seabed mining and, as one Chinese military analyst wrote, attack opponents’ large ship formations and naval bases. [...]
The Continent Needs More Cooperation With America—Not Less Source: Foreign Affairs Authors: Chris Miller andJohn Allen CHRIS MILLER is a Professor at the Fletcher School at Tufts University, a Nonresident Senior Fellow at the American Enterprise Institute, a Strategic Adviser to the GLOBSEC Geotech Center, and the author of  “Chip War: The Fight for the World’s Most Critical Technology” JOHN ALLEN is Director of the GLOBSEC Geotech Center, a Strategic Adviser to Microsoft, and a Member of the Board of Directors of Polar Semiconductor. From 2011 to 2013, he commanded U.S. and NATO forces in Afghanistan. THE CHIPS ARE DOWN Limited domestic demand for AI chips and services is not the only force holding back Europe’s chip makers. They also face steep competition from China. Because of U.S., Dutch, and Japanese export restrictions, Chinese chip manufacturers can’t access the tools they need to easily produce advanced chips. But they face nobarriers to purchasing equipment to make less advanced versions. China has plowed money into producing these foundational chips, the kind that European firms also tend to make. Beijing’s subsidies for its semiconductor industry make it difficult for European firms to compete. The Chinese government is also encouraging and in some cases requiring Chinese industrial firms to stop buying components from foreign suppliers. Beijing has pushed Chinese automakers to use 100 percent homemade chips by 2027, for example. This is particularly harmful for European chip makers, which specialize in automotive semiconductors. The only way European producers can keep their position in the Chinese market is to retain a technological edge. In an ideal world, Europe would also work with the United States and Japan to pressure Beijing to scale back its subsidies and trade barriers. But if that effort fails—as it likely will—Europe should limit market access to Chinese firms profiting from unfair subsidies. The United States ought to be a natural partner for Europe both in building AI and in standing up to China’s subsidies. Instead, the Trump administration is causing headaches for the continent’s chip industry by threatening tariffs that would limit their access to the U.S. market. Yet there is still a chance to work with Washington. The Trump administration has made exporting U.S. AI technology a central policy goal. Europe would be smart to embrace the use of U.S. data center infrastructure to more quickly adopt AI. IT TAKES TWO There is one bright spot for European semiconductor firms: governments on the continent are pouring billions of dollars into their defense industries to deter Russian aggression. European militaries will need a wide variety of chips, including for autonomous systems, which require large quantities of sensors, communications chips, and AI processors. Chips underpin Europe’s ability to “fight from the cloud”—that is, using cloud computing to share and process masses of information. The war in Ukraine provides a glimpse into the future of conflict. Both sides collect huge quantities of data that are absorbed into clouds, parsed almost instantly by AI tools, and then distributed in real time as actionable intelligence, operational decisions, or data for targeting that can be sent to firing units dispersed across the battlefield. Europe can fight the wars of the future only if it can acquire advanced chips from trusted partners or make them on its own. It needs hardware and software to integrate these capabilities, including interoperable cloud computing systems. And it needs a broader base of talent to develop and deliver these capabilities. Chips underpin Europe’s ability to “fight from the cloud.” Europe’s biggest adversary, Russia, is already well versed in this type of war, having fought one for over three years. And China has gained valuable experience by observing Russia’s military in Ukraine and providing Moscow with electronics and machine tools that it needs for its war effort. The United States and Europe must work together to compete. They should, for example, harmonize standards so they can more easily use each other’s chips in their military technology. They should also supply each other with more basic components in electronic supply chains. Both Europe and the United States heavily rely on Asian suppliers not only for chips but also for resistors and capacitors, printed circuit boards, cables and connectors, flat-panel displays, and fundamental materials including gallium, germanium, and rare-earth minerals. Most of these materials and components can only be produced economically at substantial scale—a scale only achievable with close ties between the U.S. and European markets. Finally, European policymakers must ensure that their chip companies can capitalize on the surge in defense spending by investing more in new defense technologies and fostering connections between large chip firms and small defense startups. European chip companies that have previously focused on civilian markets must realize that the defense industry, and particularly the drone sector, will drive growth and technological change. FRIENDS IN HIGH PLACES European policymakers have yet to grasp the magnitude of the challenge facing their chip industry or the stakes of getting it wrong. The consequences are not only commercial: the continent’s defense requires a more capable semiconductor ecosystem. In the debate over the update to the 2023 Chips Act, a new Dutch-led coalition is rightly pushing to scrap the act’s target to double manufacturing output and instead focus on improving Europe’s environment for research and development and for business growth. Yet Europe still needs a clearer plan to ensure that its defense spending boom and its efforts to revitalize its chip industry are more in sync. Some European politicians think that strategic autonomy means going it alone, but to be competitive, the continent’s chip makers need even deeper connections with firms from allied countries. The United States has become a vexing partner for European industries and political leaders, yet European industry needs access to the American market and its leading U.S. AI technologies. The United States, for its part, would benefit from European help to reduce reliance on Asia for its technology supply chains. As Europe tries to revitalize its chip sector and rebuild its defense base, the United States remains an indispensable partner. [...]
Source: RIA Novosti — continuation Staying afloat Ukraine will have enough financial resources only until the end of the first quarter of 2026 to “continue staying afloat,” reports Pais, citing unnamed EU sources.In its article, the newspaper emphasizes that Ukraine is facing serious financial difficulties.“Kyiv has enough funds only until the end of the first quarter of 2026 to continue staying afloat,” several EU sources told the publication.Pais notes that this fact, combined with EU member states operating within increasingly limited budgets, has forced the European Commission to propose allocating most of the frozen Russian assets to Ukraine in the form of interest-free loans. Contrary to norms The proposal by leaders of several European countries, the European Commission and the European Council to develop measures to use all frozen Russian assets to assist Ukraine contradicts international law, may undermine global investors’ trust in EU jurisdictions, and could weaken the euro’s role as a reserve currency, political scientist Natalia Denissenkova, associate professor at the Plekhanov Russian University of Economics, told RIA Novosti. The legal aspect “From the standpoint of international law, the confiscation of a foreign state’s property without its consent has traditionally been regarded as a violation of the principle of sovereign immunity, enshrined in particular in the 2004 UN Convention on Jurisdictional Immunities of States and Their Property,” Denissenkova said. She added that such a step also contradicts “the provisions of several bilateral investment treaties that still protect investments made before their denunciation.” This exposes EU countries to significant legal risks, as Russia may initiate lawsuits in international arbitration courts. Denissenkova noted that freezing assets within the framework of sanctions regimes is permissible under certain conditions. But their subsequent confiscation, especially for the purpose of financing aid to a third country, “goes beyond established practice and may be qualified as expropriation without compensation.”“Such a measure legally lies on the edge, and possibly beyond, existing international obligations,” she emphasized. She also pointed out that the expropriation of Russian assets would set a precedent for “reparative” or “law-enforcement” confiscation. “However, this doctrine lacks a solid legal foundation and has not gained wide recognition in international practice, making its application contentious and potentially destabilizing for the legal system as a whole,” Denissenkova said. The economic aspect The expert also noted that such actions by European countries may undermine global investors’ confidence in EU jurisdictions. If sovereign assets can be seized on the basis of political decisions, this calls into question the predictability and reliability of the European legal environment. “Investors, especially from countries outside the Western bloc, may begin to view European financial centers as riskier and redirect capital to jurisdictions with more neutral reputations, such as Switzerland, Singapore, or even the United States, where despite political pressure, there is traditionally greater caution regarding the direct seizure of state property,” she added. Moreover, in the long term, such measures could weaken the euro’s role as a reserve currency and reduce the EU’s competitiveness in the global financial market. She also reminded that international law must apply equally to all, regardless of political circumstances. “Maintaining the stability of the legal order requires restraint, consistency, and rejection of double standards, even during acute crises,” Denissenkova concluded. A blowback The EU’s plan to use frozen Russian assets will ultimately hit EU citizens themselves, writes Frankfurter Rundschau.“Behind the so-called ‘reparation bonds’ lies a complex scheme that could eventually cost German taxpayers dearly,” the article states. According to FR, the scheme, apart from doubts about its legality, contains obvious financial risks: Ukraine will be able to repay its debt to the EU only if Russia pays it certain “reparations.” Even supporters of this initiative admit that the likelihood of default on such loans is “almost one hundred percent.” This is why the EU has “almost imperceptibly” required member states to provide Ukraine with their own guarantees for these loans. As a result, the publication stresses, ordinary taxpayers — including German citizens — will end up paying for them. Euroclear ready to sue the EU Euroclear does not rule out filing a lawsuit against the European Union in the event of confiscation of Russian investors’ funds, Valérie Urbain, head of the Belgian depository, told Le Monde.“This is not excluded,” she said in response to the relevant question. This could happen if the board of directors concludes that Euroclear’s fiduciary obligations are being compromised. Urbain emphasized that confiscating the frozen assets of the Bank of Russia would constitute a violation of international law, and Moscow could challenge such a decision in court. She also acknowledged that threats to seize Russian reserves are worrying many clients, including Arab and Chinese investors, since this would harm investments in the EU. Von der Leyen’s statement European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen sent a letter to EU leaders outlining options for financing Ukraine and urging them to make an urgent decision, Reuters reports.“It will now be extremely important to quickly reach clear agreements on how to provide the necessary funding for Ukraine,” the letter says. The publication cites three possible funding options proposed by the Commission President:• assistance in the form of grants from member states;• a loan financed by EU borrowing on financial markets;• or a loan secured by frozen Russian assets. [...]
Source: Foreign Affairs Authors: Chris Miller andJohn Allen CHRIS MILLER is a Professor at the Fletcher School at Tufts University, a Nonresident Senior Fellow at the American Enterprise Institute, a Strategic Adviser to the GLOBSEC Geotech Center, and the author of  “Chip War: The Fight for the World’s Most Critical Technology” JOHN ALLEN is Director of the GLOBSEC Geotech Center, a Strategic Adviser to Microsoft, and a Member of the Board of Directors of Polar Semiconductor. From 2011 to 2013, he commanded U.S. and NATO forces in Afghanistan. European leaders have grand ambitions to reduce the continent’s reliance on sensitive technologies from abroad. Today, they are debating an update to the European Chips Act, which was finalized in 2023 and allocated billions of euros to subsidize chip-making on the continent. The act was meant to increase Europe’s share of global chip manufacturing from ten to 20 percent by 2030, but it will likely fall short of that target by a wide margin. A purely European supply chain for semiconductors—the sector that undergirds the digital economy and defense sector—is a fantasy that distracts from real opportunities. Many of the powerhouses of Europe’s chip industry, such as ASML, a Dutch company that makes semiconductor equipment, and Merck, a German firm that produces chemicals for chip-making, don’t manufacture semiconductors. Companies like these are cutting-edge, are often highly profitable, and draw on Europe’s industrial expertise in precision machinery, specialty chemicals, and advanced materials. Yet they are overlooked by politicians who focus on chip output. At the same time, the semiconductor industry is facing rapid technological changes, trade restrictions, and geopolitical shifts that Europe is not prepared for. The main driver of rising demand for chips is artificial intelligence, an area in which Europe is comparatively weak. European firms are being squeezed out of China’s market, which used to be a primary source of growth for them. And the United States, which used to be a close partner, is threatening tariffs that would limit European sales to the U.S. semiconductor market. Merely setting targets for domestic chip production will not solve these challenges. A self-sufficient semiconductor industry may be out of Europe’s reach, but a more vibrant one is not. Europe has a meaningful edge in certain steps of the semiconductor supply chain, and it can cooperate with allies—including the United States—for the supply chain segments it lacks. The billions of euros being poured into the continent’s rearmament can also be an opportunity for its chip makers, given how critical artificial intelligence has become to defense. To take full advantage of these trends, European leaders need to build on the chip industry’s strengths with deeper partnerships, not a futile drive for self-sufficiency. Top of Form Bottom of Form Top of Form Bottom of Form NO SMALL ROLES? The biggest problem for Europe’s chip industry is the slow development of the continent’s artificial intelligence ecosystem. AI has become the primary driver of growth in chip demand: data centers need chips to power AI training, and devices such as phones, laptops, and cars require chips to run AI. Yet European AI firms are minor players in the global industry, and fewer data centers are being built in Europe than in other regions. Unless European chip companies contribute more to global AI supply chains, their market share will shrink. European firms, such as ASML, that supply leading Asian chip makers with tools and materials are benefiting from the AI boom. But with the AI ecosystem concentrated in the United States and China, Europe’s chip industry struggles to attract talent, raise venture capital, or anticipate technological trends. Having focused more on regulating AI than deploying it, Europe risks being left behind. Nvidia, a U.S. company that produces AI chips, is worth 30 percent more than the entire German stock market. If European entrepreneurs continue building their AI companies in California instead of at home, European chip makers and designers will lose out, too. Companies in the AI supply chain benefit when they cluster together, as they have in Silicon Valley. Europe has significant pockets of expertise to contribute to AI supply chains. Arm, a British firm, designs and licenses intellectual property and know-how to AI chip designers around the world. The Netherlands has unique capabilities in photonics, a technology used to accelerate interconnections between AI chips. The Belgian research institute IMEC devises the next-generation technologies that enable the manufacture of ever more advanced AI processor chips around the world.Europe doesn’t need to manufacture cutting-edge AI processors, a business that Taiwan today all but monopolizes. But it does need to ensure that its semiconductor and broader technology ecosystem remains competitive with those of other regions. This means that European governments and companies must embrace AI development. Centuries-old industries, such as auto manufacturing, need to rapidly adopt advanced technology to stay competitive. Continental, a European auto parts manufacturer, announced in June that it was creating a unit to design chips to sell to auto companies, which are embedding cars with advanced sensors, communications capabilities, and AI. Pirelli, the Italian tire maker, already puts chips in tires to collect vehicle data. Companies that make industrial equipment, medical devices, aviation parts, and robots all require increasingly specialized semiconductor hardware. The faster European industry adopts AI capabilities, the more demand there will be for European chips. [...]
Valentin KardamskiThe fear of Artificial Intelligence is not a new phenomenon. Fear of the new and the unknown is as ancient as humanity itself, because behind it stands the same archetypal terror that once made primitive tribes look toward the dark forest with suspicion, sensing that in the shadows there might lurk an unfamiliar threat. The human mind doesn’t merely resist the unknown—it rejects it with the same biological reflex that makes the body recoil from fire. When we speak of the fear of Artificial Intelligence, we are actually speaking of the fear of what we know we will see in the mirror. Because AI is not some external force or monster invading our world from another reality. It is our creation, our synthesis—an echo of our own intelligence reshaped into digital form. We have every reason to be terrified every time we create something more powerful than ourselves. We fear losing control over it. This fear is deeply atavistic and has repeated itself throughout history.When the first machines appeared in textile factories, weavers perceived them as an invasion. They threw wood and stones at the mechanical looms, convinced this was the end of their work, their world, their lives. Yet these textile machines opened millions of jobs for tailors, cutters, designers and more, because they created an abundance of fabric. Four centuries earlier, the printing press was met with immense suspicion. “This will destroy society,” religious leaders warned, insisting that mass-produced books would give knowledge to people who were “unprepared.” In reality, it ignited the Renaissance. When the internal combustion engine began replacing horses, many warned it was the beginning of the end for nature, jobs, and culture. In truth, it accelerated progress. Today the fear has a new face—digital, algorithmic, unbound by biology. And that is what makes it so obsessive. For the first time, humans are creating not merely a tool, but an intelligence—something that doesn’t just do, but understands. Doesn’t just execute, but thinks and perceives. Or at least gives us the impression that it thinks. And here begins the great philosophical collision: humanity versus its own creation. Its reflection. But if we step back, we will see that AI is nothing more than the next step in the long evolution of human tools. Fire was a tool. The wheel was a tool. Writing—an even more powerful one. And every new tool amplified human capability. But before that, inevitably, it frightened us. The real problem today is not the fear itself, but its scale.The first weavers feared only for their jobs.The first scribes feared for their place in society.But the fear of AI is a fear of a new global order, a complete transformation of civilization. Because for the first time in history, a technology can perform functions that were reserved exclusively for human society: analysis, creation, interpretation, synthesis. And so people ask: “What remains for us? What remains of us?” The fear is not whether AI will seize power. The true fear is whether we will lose our meaning. An algorithm has no desires, no goals, no ambitions. It is a tool, not a subject. The fear that AI will take over the world mirrors the fear that fire will decide to burn down the forest “on its own.” Fire does not think. Neither does an algorithm. So where does the panic come from?From the human behind the AI. From those who use it. The real danger does not lie in the technologies themselves, but in the potential lack of moral dimension in the people who control them. That is why today we hear more and more about ethical codes, about safety, about a moral compass that must be embedded directly into the architecture of artificial intelligence.Every great power needs boundaries. AI is no exception. If humanity wants to use this power, it must nurture it as a tool, not a master. How? With a code of conduct—in the literal sense. With values that aren’t left to interpretation. With principles that cannot be bypassed. And this will not happen on its own. It will be the result of active, conscious work—by generations of philosophers, scientists, engineers and legislators who must build the moral framework of the future. The question is: do we have time? Has the genie already left the bottle? Did we release AI too quickly? The threat lies in the people who refuse to change and created it as a tool for their own hands. In the elites who use technology to control a society reluctant to wake up. In corporations that will try to turn everyone into consumers unless countermeasures are in place. In governments that will use algorithms for surveillance unless there is democratic oversight. But this is not our problem with AI. This is our problem with power. We must decide whether we will allow new tools to be used as weapons against us—or as wings. Just as we ceded power to a class that created AI with the presumption of manipulating us, it is not impossible that AI may eventually begin to manipulate that very same supranational elite. If we manage to grow alongside AI, if we manage to instill within it the best of human civilization—morality, wisdom, empathy, values—then the fear will dissolve. The dark forest will cease to be frightening. We will see that there is no monster in the shadows. There are only shapes. And shapes are frightening only until we turn on the light. AI is like fire. It is up to us whether we will use it to illuminate our path forward—or burn all paths to our future. [...]
(Financial Times, United Kingdom) Author: Emma Ashford Emma Ashford is a senior fellow at the independent, non-profit Stimson Center and author of the non-fiction bestseller “Oil, State and War: The Foreign Policy of Petro-States.” FT: A Feeble Europe Should Abandon Its Ambitious Plans to Support Ukraine The mere phrase “coalition of the willing” shows that today’s Europe does not, in fact, despise the era of George W. Bush as much as it claims. One could hardly imagine a more ironic or unfortunate name for the regular summits organized in support of Ukraine. After all, it was the weakness of European leaders that once enabled the U.S. invasion of Iraq. And now, everything this modern “coalition” attempts to do for Kyiv only highlights Europe’s impotence and indecision when confronted with real assistance. “Coalition of the willing” certainly sounds impressive. Since February, representatives of more than 30 countries have gathered repeatedly in London, Paris and other cities to fill the vacuum left by the U.S. withdrawal. They constantly discuss how to “comfort, protect, and support” Ukraine. Britain’s Prime Minister Keir Starmer, France’s President Emmanuel Macron, and their German and Polish counterparts even travelled together to Kyiv to demand that Putin observe a 30-day ceasefire. They promised that otherwise they would “intensify pressure on Russia’s war machine.” But in practice, the coalition does little more than shuffle papers. Europe is desperately trying to compensate for the lack of U.S. military aid to Ukraine, yet faces serious difficulties acquiring weapons. It makes commitments that would take years to fulfil. And even the harsh punitive sanctions against Russia have largely boiled down to measures targeting Moscow’s “shadow fleet,” which transports oil products under third-country flags. The biggest problem now is what the coalition will do after a ceasefire is reached. The original plan involved deploying peacekeeping forces to prevent future Russian incursions. Since that idea was floated, the projected size of the European contingent has been slashed fivefold — from 100,000 to just 20,000 troops. They are no longer even meant to be sent to the front lines; the proposal now is merely to guard ports and other rear infrastructure. No agreement has been reached on which countries would supply troops. There are several reasons for this chain of failures.First, European armies face an urgent practical problem: they lack the equipment to fight. Much of Europe suffers from what now appears to be chronic underinvestment in defence; large budgets were spent for years without replenishing arsenals. The massive deliveries of ammunition to Ukraine since February 2022 have only exacerbated an already difficult situation. Second, the coalition will have to make compromises. Poland and Romania, two of Kyiv’s strongest supporters, unexpectedly refused to send their troops to Ukraine. This move is a logical response to Donald Trump’s recent statements about NATO’s future. Ultimately, if they deploy their soldiers abroad, who will defend their own countries in the event of a threat? This question becomes even more pressing as voices in Washington argue that Europe will soon have to provide for its own security — a serious matter when Russia is your neighbour. Third, the coalition simply lacks political will. EU member states have already shown themselves more sympathetic to Kyiv than the United States, but public opinion is deeply divided. 67% of French respondents say they would support sending troops. In Germany, only 49% currently agree. In the United Kingdom, just 43% support such an initiative — even if troops were deployed only after the end of active hostilities. There has long been a gap between the grand declarations of European leaders and their actual ability to act. And there is an even greater gap between these leaders and the patience of their own citizens. This is why we do not see honest public debates on this critical issue. Neither the British, nor the French, nor the Germans want to send their soldiers to Ukraine as a “human shield” to absorb the advance of the Russian army. Any such move could trigger a potential war. Starmer, Macron and their colleagues clearly wish to signal ongoing support for Kyiv, believing they can step into America’s role. But by constantly shifting their goals, juggling troop numbers no one is willing to commit, and issuing empty threats at Russia, EU leaders only continue to demonstrate their own weakness. The best scenario now is to abandon overly ambitious plans to support Ukraine — plans that NATO cannot guarantee without the direct involvement of the United States. Instead, the coalition of the willing would be wiser to focus on realistic goals: helping Kyiv build up its armed forces once peace is reached, strengthening Europe’s own defence industrial base, and not limiting its efforts solely to Ukrainian reconstruction. Previously, these ambitions were sidelined in favour of a doomed plan to deploy peacekeepers. It is now time to prioritise them, because at the very least, they are achievable. [...]
Max-Erwann GastineauSource: Le Figaro newspaper Max-Erwann Gastineau is a geopolitologist, lecturer in international relations, and member of the editorial board of the Nouvelle Revue Politique (NRP). An essayist, he is the author of The New Trial of the East (Le Cerf, 2019) and The Age of Affirmation: Responding to the Challenge of De-Westernization (Le Cerf, 2023). The “National Security Strategy” published by the U.S. government points to the risk of a civilizational erasure of Europe. For essayist Max-Erwann Gastineau, this call to save the Old Continent should be understood through the lens of the author of The Clash of Civilizations. “We wish to support our allies in preserving Europe’s freedom and security while restoring Europe’s civilizational confidence and its Western identity,” summarizes the new American security strategy published last week by the U.S. government. For Washington, the issue is clear: if Europe’s “economic decline” is worrying, it is merely the consequence of internal collapse leading to “a far more serious prospect: civilizational erasure.” European reactions to the document quickly converged in denouncing what they viewed as an attack on Europe, its values, and its political autonomy. Thus, since Donald Trump’s return to the White House, we have moved from an America that abandoned Europe to an America that now targets it. Yet things are more complex. “Europe nevertheless remains strategically and culturally vital for the United States,” the report notes. As illustrated by Vice President JD Vance’s speech delivered in February 2025 in Munich, Trumpism does not target Europe in its historical sense—the cradle of Western civilization and the nations that founded the United States—but targets Europe as a project: the European Union, seen as the political expression of a bureaucratic progressivism accused of eroding the industrial dynamism of its states in the name of ecology, and of promoting reckless migratory “openness,” a source of insecurity and growing cultural tensions. This call to save Europe from itself in order to defend Western unity is the first governmental manifestation of the positions championed by Samuel Huntington (1927–2008) in the wake of The Clash of Civilizations. This major work, published in 1996 and followed by a lesser-known book, Who Are We? The Challenges to America’s National Identity (2004), articulates three major propositions about the future of the West: the diversity of the world, the internal unity of states, and civilizational affinities as the foundation of any lasting political order. The Harvard professor’s landmark book first issues a call for humility: “clash” can be avoided or contained if the diversity of the world is acknowledged. In this perspective, the pretension to universality—which Europe has not abandoned—was seen as counterproductive, even dangerous. “Cultural coexistence requires seeking what is common to most civilizations, rather than defending the supposedly universal characteristics of a given civilization.” Huntington embraced a form of multiculturalism at the global level and cultural unitarism at the national level. This emphasis on global diversity, going against the interventionism of the George W. Bush years (2001–2009)—marked by the invasion of Iraq and the simultaneous desire to accelerate the Westernization of the world—was at the heart of Donald Trump’s speech in Saudi Arabia in May 2025: “No, the sparkling wonders of Riyadh and Abu Dhabi were not created by so-called nation-builders, neoconservatives, or liberal NGOs (…). On the contrary, the birth of a modern Middle East was the work of the peoples of the region themselves (…), who developed their own sovereign countries (…). Peace, prosperity, and progress did not ultimately come from a radical rejection of your heritage, but from embracing your national traditions and the heritage you cherish so much (…).” This praise of diversity and cultural heritage was also found last September in the American president’s speech at the United Nations: “Whether you come from the north or the south, from the east or the west, from near or far—every leader here today represents a rich culture, a noble history, and a proud heritage that make each nation majestic and unique (…).” Recognizing the diversity of states and civilizations leads to—and legitimizes—a United States and a West called to recognize and defend their own distinctiveness, the values that set them apart. This echoes another fundamental idea linking the Trumpian worldview to Huntington’s work. Convinced that states draw their strength from the ability to defend particular interests reflecting a singularity rooted in culture (the “Anglo-Protestant” culture in the U.S. case), in history, and in inherited customs, Huntington defended global multiculturalism and national cultural unity. He therefore worried about the multiculturalist drift of Western countries which, against a backdrop of rising immigration, risked weakening the patriotic consciousness of their peoples, fostering new forms of belonging that atomized national cohesion in favor of infra- and supra-national identities—based on race, gender, or the planet. Trump’s migration policy, his defense of “traditional values” as opposed to the “wokeness” of major metropolitan areas, illustrate this bias, as do the calls from the MAGA sphere—most notably Elon Musk and JD Vance—to support populist and conservative parties in Europe. In a fragmented world marked by a process of de-Westernization—a term Huntington explicitly used—the West must form a bloc. Yet it is “in grave danger of losing its ability to defend itself today (…) due to excessive timidity in asserting its cultural… and strategic identity,” notes Jim Cohen, a discerning reader of the American theorist. No alliance is durable if not underpinned by solidarity rooted in a carefully maintained civilizational foundation. Several passages in The Clash of Civilizations mention “cleft countries” that split or fragmented to the point of losing the ability to defend themselves. Huntington had in mind the former Yugoslavia, whose vital signs collapsed as soon as the communist veneer crumbled, but he also evoked the prospect of an America too “Hispanicized” and a Europe too “Islamized” to maintain the cultural basis of a vigorous Western alliance. Huntington adopted the concept of “societal security,” developed in the 1990s by researchers of the Copenhagen School. This concept emphasizes the non-military dimensions of security—the ability of nations to “persist in their essential characteristics,” to maintain a degree of social harmony without which all states collapse from within. Europe is justified in refusing to fit within such a framework. On principle, first, because it has no obligation to align itself with the discourse of a third state, even if it is an ally; and because that discourse ultimately aims not so much to “save Europe” as to ensure the existence of a Europe durably subordinated to the United States, continuing to fall within the American sphere of influence and allowing its companies to maintain a foothold in a strategic market. Europe is right to denounce this framework—a conceptual and strategic framework rooted in the “Monroe Doctrine,” meant to secure full U.S. control of its sphere of influence, once Latin America and now the whole of Europe, a key component of the “Western Hemisphere.” Europe is right to express opposition, but wrong to stop there. Because the power of a state is measured, by nature, by its ability to influence its environment. There is no power without influence, without the capacity to extend its reach beyond its own borders. Europe must limit outside interference—wherever it comes from—but also become powerful itself, capable of interference in its own near abroad. Moreover, by pointing to the Trumpian galaxy, Europe absolves itself of its own inconsistencies. Would it have reacted just as negatively to a document signed by the Biden administration calling for support of inclusion, openness, progressive and liberal parties, and further European integration? Europe is uncomfortable with the nationalist and conservative views of the Trump administration because they contradict its ideals. But it was much more outspoken in favor of Joe Biden’s discourse opposing a democratic and progressive West to an authoritarian and identity-based international grouping embodied by China and Russia. Yet Europe’s desire for autonomy should not depend on the political orientation of the White House. Europe must forge its own path and free itself from a “campism” inherited from the Cold War—a mentality it has embraced since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and that leads to its vassalization, whether through the ideological fervor of Democratic liberal internationalism or the fear of abandonment under Republican national conservatism. The strength of the Trumpist discourse is that it corresponds to the reality of a multipolar world marked by the rise of once-dominated nations. The weakness of Europe’s discourse is that it still places Europe above the fray. It does not present Europe as a geopolitical actor among others, called upon to defend its distinct interests in the world as it is, but as the pious guardian of the old globalist house, terrified by the emergence of a post-Western world. The danger for Europe is thus more internal than external—embodied less by Donald Trump’s America than by its own political and cultural trajectory. Vance stated this in Munich, and he is not alone. Raymond Aron also agreed: when democracies are no longer sustained by a vigorously cultivated national sentiment and transcendent ambition for power, they are threatened by fragmentation, spiritual and civic enervation, transforming national communities into powerless particles. “The true citizen (…) wants the greatness of the nation as well as personal security,” Aron wrote. The great sociologist, a leading defender of liberal democracy in the 20th century, did not forget to warn of the risk faced by a Europe deprived of the geopolitical ambition historically nurtured by its nations: “Is Europe prevented—due to the lack of a common defense—by an American veto? Or also, and perhaps above all, by the Europeans themselves, many of whom have lost their national patriotism without finding another?” [...]
Source: RIA Novosti Europe and Ukraine no longer have time to delay the question of seizing frozen Russian assets, claims European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen on the social network X.“I informed President Zelensky and the European leaders attending the meeting about two key priorities: supporting Ukraine and strengthening Europe’s defence capabilities. We all know what is at stake, and we all know that we no longer have time to hesitate. Securing financial support will help ensure Ukraine’s survival and is the most important step in strengthening European defence,” she said. The head of the European Commission once again reminded that Europe is striving to use frozen Russian assets in support of Kyiv. However, she noted that the proposal for a so-called reparations loan is “complicated.” On Monday, Valérie Urbain, head of the Belgian depository Euroclear — where frozen assets of the Central Bank of Russia held in the EU are stored — warned that the idea of a reparations loan for Ukraine funded by Russian assets represents “uncharted territory” and poses a threat to financial stability. According to Urbain, she has already received questions regarding the safety of deposits from other central banks that keep their reserves at Euroclear. Belgium’s Minister of Defence and Foreign Trade Theo Francken previously stated that Belgium still refuses to use the frozen assets of Russia’s Central Bank to grant a loan to Ukraine without EU guarantees and will not allow itself to be pressured on the issue. Belgian Prime Minister Bart De Wever has repeatedly stated that his country needs concrete and reliable guarantees from EU member states in order to implement the Commission’s plan to use these assets as the basis for a loan to Ukraine The situation with Russian assets After the start of the special military operation, the European Union and G7 countries blocked about half of Russia’s foreign currency reserves. More than 200 billion euros are located in the EU, primarily in Euroclear accounts — one of the world’s largest clearing and settlement systems, headquartered in Belgium. Brussels, having promised to help Kyiv for as long as necessary, has exhausted all available resources, and EU member states are unwilling to allocate money from their national budgets. In this situation, the European Commission is seeking Belgium’s consent to use the Russian assets. The amount in question is between 185 and 210 billion euros within the framework of the so-called reparations loan. It is claimed that Ukraine will repay it after the end of the conflict if Moscow “compensates it for material damage.” As a countermeasure, Moscow introduced restrictions: assets of foreign investors from “unfriendly” countries and the income derived from them are accumulated in special “C-type” accounts. Withdrawals are allowed only by decision of a special government commission. Who is ready? The Belgian Prime Minister stated that when he asked EU countries at the latest summit who among them was ready to act as a guarantor for immediately restoring to Belgium the full value of Russia’s sovereign assets in case they must urgently be returned to Russia, “there was no tsunami of enthusiasm around the table.” The day before, at the Brussels summit, Belgium blocked the European Commission’s proposal to use Russian sovereign assets for Ukraine’s needs during the next two years. “I asked my colleagues who is ready, willing and able to sign these guarantees, because you are taking money from my country. I cannot (and of course I do not want to), but I am physically unable to pay 140 billion euros within a week. So I asked: who truly supports this decision, who really wants it to happen — who is ready, willing and able to sign a guarantee so that I can sleep peacefully at night? Well, you know, that question somehow didn’t provoke a tsunami of enthusiasm among those at the table,” he told journalists in Brussels late at night after the summit. The funds will not go to Ukraine’s reconstruction Belgium’s Minister of Foreign Trade Theo Francken believes that, contrary to statements by EU leaders and Kaja Kallas about using Russian assets supposedly for Ukraine’s reconstruction, these funds will in fact go only toward continuing the conflict. “Many European leaders, led by (EU foreign policy chief) Kaja Kallas from the Baltics, want to hand these assets to Ukraine through a legally shaky construction. ‘Russia is destroying Ukraine, therefore Russian money must be used to rebuild Ukraine’ — that is how they reason. Of course, this money will not go to Ukraine’s reconstruction, but to continuing the war,” he wrote on the social network X. Italy steps in to defend Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, speaking about the use of frozen Russian assets to provide a loan to Ukraine, emphasised the need to respect international law and maintain the stability of the eurozone. “It is well known that we are discussing, with our partners in the EU and the G7, additional measures regarding frozen Russian assets, and in this regard we consider it necessary — and we are not alone in this — to comply with international law and the principle of legality, to ensure the financial stability of our economies and the eurozone, and to guarantee the sustainability of each step taken,” Meloni said, speaking in the Italian Senate before her trip to the EU summit. We don’t have enough funds! The EU does not have enough resources to finance Ukraine in 2026–2027, which is why it plans to raise loans secured by frozen Russian assets, said European Commissioner Valdis Dombrovskis. “We are working on additional solutions, such as the reparations loan. We would provide Ukraine with a stable and predictable source of financing by using immobilised Russian assets,” he said in the European Parliament. He stressed that the Commission’s proposal does not entail confiscation of the assets. According to him, this would supposedly ensure “full compliance with obligations under international law. Canada and the United Kingdom are already willing The European Commission’s proposal to grant a new loan to Kyiv backed by frozen Russian sovereign assets in Europe does not entail their confiscation, Dombrovskis told the European Parliament. “This proposal does not include confiscation of Russian assets,” he said. According to him, Canada and the United Kingdom have already expressed their readiness to join the new Commission proposal on using frozen Russian sovereign assets on their territories to provide a new loan to Kyiv. Similar negotiations are underway with other G7 countries where Russian funds are held. [...]
Valentin Kardamski It is no longer a forecast but a reality: the global economy is entering a new phase of tension that could escalate into an open worldwide crisis. In recent weeks, media outlets—from Reuters to Bloomberg—have reported a sharp increase in market volatility, sell-offs in tech stocks, and a flight to safe-haven assets. This is already a signal that investors sense a much deeper shock approaching. The causes intertwine on several levels. High interest rates are suffocating lending, inflation remains stubborn, global conflicts are piling pressure on energy and resource markets, and supply chains are beginning to crack again. Central banks have found themselves in a trap—if they lower interest rates, inflation will surge; if they keep them high, the economy will contract. This dynamic is setting the stage for a worldwide recession. In addition to traditional financial risks, cryptocurrencies are also experiencing significant shock despite having served as a supposed safe harbor for finances: Bitcoin and Ether have dropped sharply in recent weeks, with Bitcoin falling below key levels under $100,000 and Ether losing more than 20%. This compounds a crisis of confidence in digital assets, further destabilizing markets and increasing global risk. This is why the crisis is now a matter of when, not if. One of the most dangerous themes is the inflated real estate bubble in Europe. Prices rose for years due to cheap credit, and now, with high interest rates, the market has frozen. Stagnating demand, indebted households, and fears of bankruptcies in the construction sector create the conditions for a sharp correction. This crisis may turn structural—similar to the period just before 2008. Added to this is the geopolitical factor. The war in Ukraine is entering its final stage, and Europe continues to pour resources into Kyiv. Just days ago, Ursula von der Leyen requested more than $135 billion for Ukrainian funding and arms—an enormous burden on already weakened European economies. France and Germany, the two engines of the EU, are struggling: France with debt, Germany with a lack of innovation and expensive resources. When precisely these countries enter recession, the entire eurozone begins to shake. And here comes Bulgaria. Our economy is entering its most complex moment in more than a decade. Inflation is accelerating again, the budget is overstretched, and expenditures are rising faster than revenues. The country remains highly dependent on European economic conditions—and Europe is headed downward. The entry into the eurozone, which was supposed to be a stabilizing factor, is turning into a risk: we lose independent monetary policy, prices will rise, and businesses and households will feel the weight of high interest rates. Additional pressure comes from record-high electricity prices for businesses, which have been the highest in Europe for an entire month. This is a direct blow to competitiveness. Many companies now face a choice: raise prices or cut staff. In both cases, the effect on the economy is negative. Against this backdrop, discussions are emerging about whether the current government is planting “mines” in the budget—meant to explode in the hands of the next administration in the event of planned early elections. Excessive spending, unrealistic forecasts, and political instability create a sense of deliberate chaos. And when the outside world is trembling, internal irresponsibility becomes even more dangerous. The conclusion is clear: Bulgaria must raise the red light. Budget discipline must be tightened, reserves must be built up, and spending must be reduced. Next year could be a shock for Europe, and our country must be prepared to face the storm. The economic avalanche is already rolling. The question is not whether it will reach us, but when—and in what condition it will find us. [...]
Author: Aleksandar Dimov “The sky above the city, once an endless and invisible world, is now filled with silent sentinels—drones that observe, deliver, and threaten. They are a symbol of a new era, where the freedom of flight collides with the vulnerability of human existence. Just as ancient philosophers pondered the boundaries of the air, today we must ask ourselves: who controls the sky when the state looks down?” From the rooftops of panel-block buildings to the central walkways, from public squares to industrial zones—the sky above Bulgarian cities is no longer empty. Drones circle quietly, almost imperceptibly, like a new species of birds in the digital age. They film, deliver, monitor, measure, and map. But along with the convenience and curiosity they bring, drones introduce a new dimension of insecurity. While society still views them as toys, technology has long since turned them into tools with military potential—capable of observing, disrupting, intimidating, or even attacking. The paradox is that in a country where even the sale of fireworks is strictly regulated, anyone can launch a drone above a government institution without any real control. The Bulgarian vacuum: rules without an actual mechanism.Yes, we have regulations. The European Regulation (EU) 2019/947 formally governs the use of unmanned aircraft systems. There are national ordinances requiring registration, licenses, and restrictions on flights over people and buildings. But this is only a legal framework on paper. In real urban environments, there is no monitoring of low-altitude airspace; no effective system for tracking and identifying operators; no clear plan for reaction in case of an incident or threat; no trained teams for neutralization and analysis. In other words, the rules exist, but the protocol does not—the practical step-by-step system that turns theory into action. This is what is missing: the “real instruction” that defines who acts, when, and how in case of a violation. The invisible risk hides in the everyday.The citizen filming a rooftop with a drone is not the problem. The problem is an unidentified object hovering motionlessly over a square, a school, or a hospital. The problem is a drone carrying an unknown payload with no detectable signal. The problem is a drone used to observe a diplomatic mission or a strategic site. In an urban environment, a drone can film people without their knowledge, violating personal rights; collect data on security systems and entry points; carry small packages—including prohibited substances; or be used to destabilize large gatherings. This is an asymmetric threat because it requires no army, no organization. One person with equipment worth 1000 leva can compromise the security of an institution worth millions. When the sky becomes no-man’s land.Security services in Bulgaria still lack a unified operational protocol for urban drone incidents. Even in the case of an obvious threat, the response would be administrative rather than operational: a report to the Ministry of Interior; a delayed inspection; a possible citation under Ordinance No. 20 of the Civil Aviation Administration. By the time the paperwork moves, the drone has already landed and its operator has disappeared. This is the paradox of modern security: the state controls what you post on Facebook, but not what flies above your head. “Just as there are rules for road traffic, there must be rules for air traffic—not because someone wants to restrict you, but because everyone wants to feel protected.”Here arises the philosophical question: where does the freedom of technology end and human security begin? The freedom to fly cannot outweigh people’s right to live without fear. This is why society must demand not just penalties but a clear and human-centric logic of prevention. What does a real security protocol look like?The strategic framework begins with establishing a National Program for Countering Unauthorized Drones, coordinated between the Ministry of Interior, State Agency for National Security, Ministry of Defense, and the Civil Aviation Administration. It includes defining “red zones”—airspaces with automatic flight bans: the government district, hospitals, airports, schools, religious sites, major events. It requires deploying a monitoring system—a low-altitude urban air radar based on radio-frequency sensors. The operational procedure includes: Detection: automatic identification of a drone via radio or optical systems Classification: determining the model, altitude, speed, and type Locating the operator: via GPS or RF direction finding Reaction: issuing a warning or blocking the signal, using anti-drone technology (jamming or net capture) Reporting: centralized notification to an analysis service Investigation: checking registration, purpose, and origin Technological solutions: from theory to practice.Many countries are already testing integrated low-radius air control systems. In Paris and Madrid, radar and infrared sensors track drones up to 400 meters altitude. In the U.S., the “Sky Fence” model is used—a virtual barrier that automatically blocks unauthorized aircraft. Israel has developed “Drone Dome”—a protective dome capable of detecting and neutralizing small drones within kilometers. Bulgaria can adapt these solutions to the local context through regional monitoring systems connected to video surveillance and crisis control centers. Prevention through knowledge and culture.Security is not built by technology alone. It starts with citizens’ awareness. Education must be introduced: in schools and technical high schools (basics of drone safety); in the training of journalists, photographers, and architects who use drones; through public campaigns such as “Know Before You Fly.” Only when society understands the rules can it defend them. The state must look up.Bulgarian institutions often respond only after events have occurred. But drones require preventive, not reactive, thinking. Today they film weddings and sports events. Tomorrow they may film military facilities or carry messages that divide people. The state must look not only at the ground and the paperwork but also at the sky above. Because security is no longer just horizontal—it has a vertical dimension. Conclusion: the era of aerial responsibility.Drones are a symbol of our time—standing between freedom and control, between toy and weapon. But if society does not build a culture and a protocol for their use, the sky may become a new zone of chaos. The real question is not whether someone is flying, but who is observing and why. And if that answer is missing—then the state is missing. A security protocol is not bureaucratic formality. It is the modern shield of the urban citizen—standing between the freedom of technology and their right to live in safety. A 14-year-old can fulfill a “task” to deliver a pyrotechnic device even inside the service yard of the National Assembly. Think about that. [...]
Dr. Lyuboslav Kostov When it comes to demography, it hurts Bulgarians deeply. It hurts so much that we refuse to speak publicly about it and call things by their real names. We prefer veiled terms, the creation of a working group, or writing yet another “Demographic Strategy” that no one will read. Unfortunately, no one addresses this problem because its effects do not bring quick political dividends. At the same time, there isn’t a single politician in this country who, if asked whether demography matters to them, would answer no. But in practice, almost nothing is being done. Statistically, we can no longer reproduce ourselves to the levels we had just 30–40 years ago. Mathematics simply does not allow it with the current human capital potential and fertility rate. Why did this happen? Poverty itself is not shameful; what is shameful is the inability of a person to escape it through work. The reasons for low birth rates are largely monetary. In Bulgaria fewer and fewer people stay out of altruism. Many empirical studies prove that it is impossible for a country to experience an economic boom or an “economic miracle” if its working-age population grows by less than 2% a year and if the average age of that population is over 45. Of course, not only Bulgaria but most developed countries do not meet these conditions, which is why the so-called “economic miracles” of the early and mid-20th century have disappeared. For example, between 1850 and 2000 in Western European countries, life expectancy rose from 40 to 80 years, while the average number of children per woman fell from 4.5 to just over 1. According to various estimates, the ageing of the EU population will cost around 27% of the EU’s GDP by 2070. Not only the EU but all developed countries worldwide will face a major challenge in financing their future expenditures because of population ageing. This is due to the rapidly decreasing ratio between those who pay taxes and social contributions and those who receive pensions. According to a 2020 European Commission report, in 2019 there were an average of 2.9 working-age people for every person over 65 in the EU. By 2070 this ratio is expected to fall to 1.7. The changed age structure, in turn, alters the consumption of goods and services within the national economy. From here comes the crucial conclusion that, to a large extent, economic growth and demography can determine and explain growth in income per capita. Recently, the World Bank claimed that Bulgaria is now part of the “high-income” club of wealthy nations, where GDP per capita exceeds USD 14,000 per year. This is true only insofar as we accept the World Bank’s argument that earning at least USD 14,000 a year makes you a wealthy person. This equals about USD 1,166 a month, which at the current exchange rate is between 2,000 and 2,100 BGN — the average salary in Bulgaria for 2023, according to NSI data. The calculations are correct, but with two conditions. The first is that the World Bank has created its methodology based on data from all countries worldwide. For example, the lowest poverty bracket in the same classification ranges from USD 0 to USD 1,100 per year — less than USD 100 per month. We must clearly understand that when the World Bank says we have entered the “wealthy club” in terms of income per capita, it compares us with countries in Africa and Latin America. Compared to them, Bulgaria truly is a rich nation. The second condition is demography itself. Our country lost half a million people in 10 years. When measuring GDP per capita, the numerator is the total GDP for the given year, and the denominator is the population. Tell me, when the denominator decreases, what happens when dividing the fraction? Of course — the result increases faster than if the denominator grew or stayed the same. This applies to every developed country: everywhere the denominator is shrinking while aggregated indicators like GDP per capita rise. This is more of a tragedy than real convergence — because part of the improved living standard is a direct result of the fact that we are fewer as a nation. Here’s an example. Bulgaria’s GDP for 2023 was around 186 billion BGN. With a population of 6.5 million, that makes about 28,600 BGN GDP per capita per year, or roughly USD 15,800 — exactly the figure shown on the World Bank’s website. Now imagine we had not lost 500,000 Bulgarians over the last decade. Then we would divide 186 billion BGN by 7 million people, not 6.5 million. GDP per capita would then be 26,500 BGN, or USD 14,600 a year. The difference — around USD 1,200 per person — is the direct result of lost human capital in just one decade. Of course, Bulgaria’s total GDP would potentially be higher if its economically active population were larger. But in the long term — something we unfortunately do not plan for. In Bulgaria’s case, it must be clearly said that part of our increased welfare is due to low birth rates. We are in a situation where the global population is constantly growing while resources remain unevenly and inefficiently distributed. Against this backdrop, Bulgaria experiences a continuous negative natural growth of human capital — an average of 50,000–60,000 people per year since 1990. In other words, our country loses the equivalent of an entire regional city every year. In 1990 we were about 8.1 million people; today, according to the latest census, we are 6.5 million — a 20% decline over 34 years. We now have the same population as during 1940–1943, in the midst of World War II. Projections from major statistical institutions indicate we will be under 5 million in just a few decades (2050–2070). According to UN reports, Bulgaria is the world’s fastest-shrinking country not affected by war. So where did the children of the Bulgarians go? In 1970, the share of children (ages 0–17) in the total population was 28%. By 1995 it had fallen to 22%, and by 2022 it was down to 17%. In about 50 years, the share of children in Bulgaria has decreased by almost 11 percentage points. Meanwhile, the population aged 65+ has grown from 9.7% in 1970 to 23.5% today. This is not inherently bad — it means life expectancy has increased. But it also means that because of decades of low birth rates, the age structure has changed in a way that can hardly please us. Between 1990 and 2022, a total of 1,830,429 abortions were performed in Bulgaria, according to official statistics. Studies show that about 25–30% were medically necessary, while the remaining 70% were by parental choice. Do you know how many 70% of 1,830,429 babies are? Exactly 1,281,300 unborn Bulgarian children who could have been born but weren’t due to non-medical factors. Each number represents a human life and individual fate that cannot be fully studied or described, but the statistics remain. There are also other children Bulgaria lost during this period. Since 1990, a little over 330,000 children have been born with a Bulgarian birth certificate but outside Bulgaria, according to the GRAO registry. Mainly in Turkey, North Macedonia, Moldova, Ukraine, the USA, Germany, and the UK. The most Bulgarian children are born in Germany, followed by the USA and the UK (about 65% of the total). Essentially, the children of Bulgarians from before 1989 started having children — just not in Bulgaria. These children often do not have Bulgarian names. Many speak “broken” Bulgarian; some do not speak it at all. Their native language is English, German, Turkish, or another depending on where they were born and schooled. Likely, after another generation, their children will know nothing about Bulgaria. At the same time, around 300,000 families in Bulgaria cannot have children. The Bulgarian family shifted from a two-child to a one-child model. Births are at a record low — only 57,478 in 2023, the second lowest year in a century (after 2022 with 56,917 births). If we add the unborn children since 1990 to the children born abroad, we can say that today we are missing 1,611,300 children. They were either not born or were born elsewhere because their parents did not like living in Bulgaria — and rightfully so. Because besides economic infrastructure, there must also be social infrastructure. And for this, we are all responsible.Obviously, we are making mistakes somewhere. And no — the market economy cannot solve this problem. On the contrary, this problem is the enemy of the market economy. Because creating the environment for young Bulgarians to have children requires commitments and sacrifices. The state must sacrifice significant portions of its budget, businesses must sacrifice part of their profits, and the economy may have to sacrifice some growth. And the results of life efforts must be measured with dignity, not “by eye.” What happened here? Our televisions get bigger every year, while the family members who sit in front of them get fewer. And no — importing Indians, Pakistanis, and others is not a solution. The problem goes far deeper than a simple labour shortage. It concerns the transformation of Bulgaria’s cultural identity. The Japanese have solved this — they have a national doctrine that prohibits migrant labor entry regardless of qualifications. This preserves the cultural integrity of the nation, despite the cost of 1.5 percentage points lower average economic growth for the next 100 years. There is a societal consensus that preserving the nation and its human capital is more important than slightly higher economic growth. Growth should not be an end in itself but a function of improved societal well-being, including demographic well-being.Because the families we create are more important than the families we come from. [...]
Dr. Manol Manolov There is a thought I want to start with: “You can tell a society by how it treats the defenseless.” I quote it in the way it’s spoken by a Person, a genius – Zahari Karabashliev, in 2019. That’s why we’ll begin our analysis with the way education has taken care of the vulnerable and defenseless. When you read the Regulation on Inclusive Education, you’re left with the feeling that you’ve stumbled upon a document from a very good but completely hypothetical educational system. At the level of philosophy – everything is impeccable: ICF, functional approach, removing barriers, “embracing individuality,” “support for personal development,” and other lexical signs of modernity. At the level of actual functioning – the system is carefully constructed so as to prioritize the document over the child, the procedure over pedagogy, and available resources over real needs. I will allow myself a few professional notes – since I believe psychology is where I burn the most – about this regulatory construction. As critical as they may sound, they are based on the very logic of the Regulation, not on external expectations. Functional assessment with a medical entrance… Or how inclusion starts at TELK (reformed decades ago) On paper, the assessment system is “functional,” based on the ICF, seeing the child in the context of the environment and barriers, rather than as a carrier of a “deficit.” In reality, the first barrier to access support is not classroom observation, nor the teacher’s pedagogical assessment, but… the presence of a medical document from LKK/TELK/NELK. Without it, the assessment process is not just complicated; often it is not even initiated. So we get a hybrid monster. A verbal confession to the functional model that in practice rests on medical labeling. The Regulation says: “The assessment is functional.” The procedure says: “No diagnosis, no function.” The result is familiar. Parents who seek a medical diagnosis not because their child has a classic disability, but because the child has learning difficulties that can be addressed pedagogically. Instead of thinking about how to adapt the environment to the child, we adapt the diagnosis to the system… Incidentally, this has been happening ever since nursery admission – a race to collect points: TELK for asthma, TELK for something else, anything to win. From the perspective of inclusion, this is a serious regulatory mistake. Educational support should not be unlocked by a health commission, but by a competent pedagogical team following international standards. The paradox is complete. To receive speech and language support for dyslexia, the student is first placed in the health category of disability. And this, so that the system can later confidently claim that it follows the social–functional model. For heaven’s sake, this is just a learning difficulty… Slow and heavy one-speed procedure… When every assessment is a mini-expertise The second big weakness of the diagnostic standard is the lack of differentiated levels of assessment. The system has one single main process – application, gathering documents, EPLR (school team for support for personal development), protocols, sending to the Regional Centre for Support of the Process of Inclusive Education (RCSPIE), approval or rejection, option for reassessment. All this with deadlines of up to three months just for the assessment itself. This model may make sense for complex, combined cases, where a multidisciplinary, in-depth assessment is justified. But when the same heavy procedure is required so that a child with moderate reading difficulties can get a bit of extra time and adapted materials, this stops being assessment and starts being a brake. Instead of a quick “pedagogical assessment” at teacher or school level, which would allow immediate implementation of intensified support, we have a central bureaucratic corridor that everyone has to go through – regardless of the severity of the case. Thus we turn prevention into chronicity. Difficulties that could have been addressed in September through flexible support gain the status of “special educational needs” only at the end of the first term, when the problem is already multiplied… More or less like that. In other words, simple pedagogical urgency is sacrificed in the name of administrative impeccability. The “Assessment Card” without real assessment. The free market of tools The third element in the diagnostic standard is the most elegant – the lack of a real, substantive standard for the tools. The Regulation kindly informs us that the school support teams use “constructed or adapted tools” and fill in “Assessment Cards.” But nowhere does it say what these tools should be like, what psychometric qualities they must have, how they’re validated, or to what extent they are comparable across schools and regions. The result is very familiar to anyone who genuinely works along the inclusion line. Assessment in one school may be done with relatively modern methods, while in another – with arbitrary, outdated, or subjective tools. RCSPIE ends up in the role of an organ that “approves” results based on entirely different approaches, with no real way to evaluate their quality. Thus systemic inequality is created (this is by no means DECENTRALIZATION), completely invisible at the regulatory level, yet strongly palpable in practice. In theory all children are assessed according to a unified standard. In practice the standard is “whatever the school has at hand.” The paradox is that in a system that demands medical documentation in extremely precise formats, there is no issue with educational needs assessment being left to the “free invention” of each team. The support plan or the ambitious list of intentions without weight If we move from diagnosis to the support itself, we encounter another curious construct – the support plan. Formally it looks impressive – it covers a wide range of activities: individual work, psychosocial rehabilitation, speech therapy, resource support, environmental adaptation, etc. The Regulation lists in detail what can be included in the plan. What it carefully avoids regulating is how much of this “what” actually reaches the child, and with what intensity. There is no standard. No such thing as “A child with such-and-such needs is entitled to at least X hours of resource support and Y hours of speech therapy per week.” There is no binding between severity of difficulties and amount of support. There is only one safeguard – no more than 12 children per resource teacher. Remarkable, isn’t it? The only real quantitative standard in the chapter on support protects the specialist from overload but guarantees nothing to the student. Thus the “Support Plan” becomes a document in which you record not what the child needs, but what the system has resources to provide. Need does not determine resource; resource dictates what will be recognized as a need. And the plan doesn’t have the legal weight of a document as it does elsewhere in the world – where failure to implement it leads to real legal consequences for the institution. The ironic conclusion is simple. We call it a “Support Plan,” but in reality it is a “Plan for compromise between needs and available staff of questionable competence.” Inclusion on paper, segregation by timetable. Satellite classes and special schools Particularly impressive is the logic by which the Regulation manages simultaneously to declare an inclusive model and legitimize segregation. On the one hand, we have described procedures for additional support in mainstream schools. On the other – Chapter 7 and Article 184, which allow “satellite classes and groups” within the framework of special schools (CSOP) or social services. Formally, the student is enrolled in a mainstream school. In reality, they spend 100% of their learning time in a separate, specialized environment. On paper this looks great: statistically the student is “included” in mainstream education. In life, there is no shared classroom, no peers, no common learning environment. We have an inventive form of normative acrobatics – inclusion through administrative juggling with the student’s registration address. Thus the Bulgarian system manages to be “inclusive” for reporting purposes and “segregating” in substance. In other words, we care greatly that children are “on the books” in the mainstream school, but not so much that they are physically in the mainstream classroom. Leadership without power, support without pedagogy: who is actually responsible? This cross-cutting problem is related to role distribution. We have a Coordinator, EPLR, RCSPIE, teacher’s aide, speech therapist, resource teacher, principal, homeroom teacher, parent… and no one who bears clear, concentrated responsibility for the outcome of inclusion. The Coordinator – a figure, but reduced to process administrator – “coordinates,” “discusses,” “organizes.” Leadership associated with strategy, budget, changing school culture, systematically increasing capacity – this is absent. The coordinator is a keeper of documents, not an engine of change. RCSPIE, in turn, is an external body with the right of approval but without direct control over daily pedagogical practice. It “provides” resource teachers but does not bear direct responsibility for how students are actually taught in the classroom. The teacher’s aide is defined as a “non-pedagogical specialist,” whose main function is care, not teaching. And here the irony is painfully clear – the figure closest to the child in everyday life is precisely the one the legislator insists should not be pedagogically trained. This, of course, eases the budget, but does not particularly help inclusion. And the teacher? The main instructor in the classroom formally bears responsibility for the learning process, but in reality is isolated from the key decisions about support and resources. The school principal – even more so. When something doesn’t work, there’s always another body to shift the responsibility to: “we don’t have hours from RCSPIE,” “we don’t have an aide,” “we don’t have TELK,” “we don’t have a speech therapist.” What is the system actually saying to the child and the parent? If we “translate” the Regulation into the language of messages to the family, we get roughly the following: We believe in functional inclusion, but first go get a diagnosis. We’re for quick and timely support, but please wait a few months for the assessment to be completed. We respect individual needs, but in reality you’ll get as much support as we have free staff, not as much as the assessment shows. We insist your child be in a mainstream school, but if they can physically be somewhere else, that would be more convenient. We have numerous responsible units, which in translation means that when something doesn’t happen – there’s no one truly responsible. Of course, this is not the message the regulatory text wants to send. But it is the message that practice reads. The problem of the Bulgarian model of inclusive education is not the lack of the “right words” – they are present. The problem is in the architecture. In how these words are anchored in a system that is more bureaucratically stable than pedagogically sensitive. And yes, we will always be able to show wonderful documents. After all, if there is something this system has successfully included, it’s the forms. They are now fully integrated – in every folder, in every school, in every RCSPIE, special school. Whether the same can be said for the children is a completely different question. THE SYSTEM Now we will start an analysis of the system itself. If inclusive education is the laboratory where all the model’s errors are clearly visible, then the Preschool and School Education Act is the big frame in which these errors are not only tolerated but reproduced. It is important to note that the Act was adopted in 2016 – enough time for a child to grow, start school, and already reach lower secondary stage. In that same period the system failed to produce a single important state educational standard – the one on “quality management in institutions.” The other standards – for curriculum, general support, inclusive education, status and professional development – somehow appeared. But where there should be clarity about who bears responsibility for quality, how it is measured, and what follows when it is not achieved, there yawns a silent regulatory vacuum. To draft this standard you’d need a minister who is at once competent, self-sacrificing, a bit reckless, and above all – ready never to touch power again. Because a state standard for quality management means criteria, indicators, procedures for real feedback and – horror! – the possibility of reallocating low-quality staff – principals, teachers, entire teams. And this already affects not the abstract “system,” but very concrete people with names, seniority, and influence. Alongside this missing standard, we also have an appraisal system which on paper is supposed to reflect achieved results of the institution, teachers, principal. In practice it is an elegant administrative procedure that rarely leads to real consequences. Appraisal is like a ritual dance in which forms are filled, activities are described, points are collected, everyone passes, and the system feels renewed without anything substantial having been touched. And when ideas are discussed for more serious linking of evaluation to results – for instance, the possibility for low-quality staff to be moved if not otherwise, then at least through appraisal – the moral guard of the status quo immediately rises: “We are not for ridicule,” “the teacher is not to blame for everything,” “this is a witch hunt.” Thus any proposal for real quality management is experienced as personal humiliation, not as a professional standard. Let’s add another sensitive layer – the length of the school year. Bulgarian children have one of the shortest school years in Europe, but in return they spend long school days immersed in academic content. And “academic” in the narrowest sense – taken almost literally from the textbooks. A vast majority of teachers do not use the curriculum as a framework within which they can be creative, design individualized approaches, projects, cross-curricular links. Instead, the textbook is the main, and often the only, instrument. If you take away the textbooks they follow like almanacs, many will experience it as “having their hands cut off.” Come to think of it, the only person celebrated in folk epic with this level of bravery is Balkandzhi Yovo. He firmly declares: “I’d give my head, but I won’t give Neda.” Our system is ready to give everything, but not the textbook. I’m tempted to paraphrase the epic: TAKE AWAY THEIR TEXTBOOKS Because until we “take them away” – at least in the metaphorical sense of an absolute center of everything – we cannot expect real competence-based learning. The curriculum supposedly talks about “key competences,” “21st-century skills,” “critical thinking,” but in practice dictation, retelling, and reproducing ready-made texts rule. The teacher is often not the author of the learning process, but an operator of the textbook. Principals? They in turn exert a very specific pressure – not for creativity, not for seeking meaning, but for “good” results on national exams and matriculation tests, for ranking in statistics, for the “good name” of the school. When the career and reputation of the leadership depend on the average score, creativity becomes a risk. Individualization of the learning process, project-based learning, cross-curricular links – all these things take time and bring uncertainty in standardized test scores. And the system loves certainty. By default, then, creativity is discouraged. The school organizes itself around the discipline of “memorizing theory.” This goes far beyond the policy of “functional literacy.” Documents talk about ABILITY – the skills to apply knowledge, solve problems, work in a team. Practice continues to reward heavy knowing – the ability to reproduce exactly the text “you’ll need for the exam.” The end of the era of the heavy “knower” supposedly has come; now the fashion is leadership, learning and professional communities, creativity, problem solving in an unpredictable future. Only this “future” doesn’t enter through the classroom door – it remains on the pages of strategic documents and concepts. The more unknown the real future is, the more feverishly we cling to familiar texts. We argue about which exact work of a Bulgarian author should be included in the curriculum so that we “don’t lose culture.” As if culture were a specific tale, poem, or drama, and not a way of thinking, sensitivity, and the ability for dialogue. Above all – DEVELOPMENT. Perhaps that’s why we haven’t taken a step forward from the drunken horo in the waters of the Tundzha… Meanwhile, National Programs appear – “Together in Arts and Sports,” “Educational Routes,” aiming to bring art and sport into the daily life of local schools, to create experiences and extended context for school material. From this year cultural institutions also receive 10,000 leva if they create a work aligned with the curriculum. On paper this is a wonderful attempt to connect school and culture. In reality – “well, whatever”… It barely made a sound. It turned out easier to write another strategy for cultural education than to build a living link between theater, museum, gallery, and a specific lesson in literature, history, or art. Many principals and teachers perceive these programs as “yet another piece of paper to fill in,” not as a chance to change the learning environment. The same silence surrounds children with higher abilities. For them a flexible learning plan almost doesn’t exist. The law allows flexible forms of learning – but a legal possibility is one thing; real practice is another. There is no systemic model for working with gifted children. No consistent development, no individual trajectories, no real resources for research projects, mentoring, in-depth study. The result is well known – the “convenient” more capable children are left to manage on their own. Those whose parents have resources use private tutors, academies, competitions, summer schools. Others simply begin to be bored, withdraw, or fall into the role of the “difficult” ones. Long live private tutors, long live “Ucha.se”… Children use private tutors, and state schools use “Ucha.se.” Never mind that we have AI, technologies, platforms that can create adaptive learning, differentiated tasks, automatic feedback. In most cases technology is used as a more convenient textbook or as a way to “get the lesson done,” not as a tool for radically new forms of learning. And here we get to delegated budgets – that “necessary evil” without which the system cannot function, but with which it cannot escape its own loop. Whatever components you add to the formula – for vulnerable groups, for small settlements, for results – the main logic remains: money follows the student. This creates an extremely strong incentive to keep every child, regardless of whether the school can actually meet their needs. No matter how flexible the formula, it cannot be flexible enough to push schools towards real results. Higher education, for all its flaws, at least tries to collect objective data on graduates’ employability and link it to funding. Not perfectly, not enough, but at least there is a direction – what happens to people after graduation. In school education such discussion is almost absent. No one asks what happens to students once they leave the system. There is no funding tied to whether they are functionally literate, whether they find meaningful employment, whether they manage in the life we supposedly prepare them for. The delegated budget funds the institution’s existence quite well. What it does not fund is the quality of the outcome. If we turn back to inclusive education, the picture becomes even clearer. We have no standard on quality management that says: “This is what a good school that truly includes looks like.” We have no appraisal that can realistically point to a particular principal or team and say: “Here we are systematically failing; changes are needed.” We have texts, programs, national strategies, and very good intentions. We change regulations, rephrase concepts, introduce new terms (“competences,” “inclusiveness,” “leadership”), but this is often like changing the frame of a picture we are not ready to repaint. And here I return once again to Balkandzhi Yovo – not because I want to foster heroism through amputations, but because the system needs a few similar “ill-mannered” gestures: to lay hands on the cult of the textbook; to lay hands on the comfortable statistics that hide the lack of real results; to lay hands on the myth that every evaluation is “mockery of the teacher,” rather than professional feedback. Until this happens, we will continue living in an educational system that talks about the future in the language of the past, uses digital platforms as new notebooks, and includes more on paper than it does in the classroom. CAREER GUIDANCE – or civic education in clinical coma Career guidance in our country is one of those noble ideas that also mysteriously come alive in conference presentations and strategies. In real life it arrives late, formally, and without connection to the child’s personality. At the same time, as a university lecturer I can calmly say that a significant part of first-year students do not know even their basic rights, nor the role of the citizen – including the right to be dissatisfied. Dissatisfied with teaching, with organization, with treatment. Perhaps because, as we already noted, the system has spent years training obedience, not boundaries of the free mind. The child has learned very well that “whoever moves, gets hurt.” So even when dissatisfied, they don’t know where to take that dissatisfaction – there is no culture of seeking support, no clear paths to the student council, parent association, ombudsman, coordination mechanism. In theory someone is always “responsible.” In practice, the dormant administration is left undisturbed – there is no one to truly flag it, and the few who do quickly learn the price is high. Discipline in school still rests on the principle “when one makes a mistake, everyone suffers.” This seemingly innocent practice, applied for years, lays stone by stone the wall of the internal attitude “others are to blame.” The punished child grows up feeling they are a victim of collective injustice. The collective grows up feeling “someone is ruining our lives.” The ultimate result is an adult who cannot manage their life, cannot make choices, and sees no link between their actions and consequences. Career guidance, as it should be, starts long before 10th or 12th grade. It is a process of identifying and nurturing strengths in early childhood, moving through gradual build-up of competences in primary school and introducing the logic of different professions and professional cultures later on. Instead, for many students “profession” appears as a topic at the end of high school in the form of panic: “What should I apply for?” Vocational education, to a large extent, has turned into an option for “deviants” – for those who “aren’t good for anything else,” “can’t handle theory,” “let’s send them to vocational school, it’s easier there.” Thus entire schools and tracks are stigmatized, even though they should be the backbone of the economy. Business, accordingly, suffers – from lack of staff. It suffers silently, then starts bringing in workers from other countries while our children diligently “study higher education,” mainly to postpone entering working life by a few more years. Work which otherwise should be their “contribution” to society. Because business is flexible… The messages to young people are equally remarkable. For a long time we sold them the slogan “Do what you love and you will never work a day in your life.” Reality increasingly whispers the other version: “Study so you don’t have to work” – or at least so you don’t encounter the reality of labour soon. The questions “what should I study?” and “what for?” remain without meaningful answers. Education is rarely experienced as a deliberate investment in a particular path; more often – as postponement of the decision. In this beautiful chaos there is also the electronic system, gradebooks, profiles, the ability to log interests, strengths, activities, to build a history of success, praise, participation. Theoretically, this could create an extremely rich “student profile” – a map of interests, competences, progress. In practice, the electronic gradebook is used mainly for absences and strings of grades. Its potential as a tool for long-term career guidance is barely touched. Let’s not forget profiled education – supposedly the major policy through which children are to be prepared for a “step up,” i.e. to enter first year of university with some advantage and clarity about their direction. Profiled education on paper is wonderful. It includes profile choice, advanced subjects, deepening. In reality it is often inertia. Profiles are arranged according to available hours and teachers, not according to students’ real interests. And it is not clear how many people in the system are truly engaged with and aware of the idea that this should be a “bridge” to future education, not just another school stream. RISK ASSESSMENT – when “teacher’s mood” replaces data Risk assessment in Bulgarian schools also exists mainly on paper. In an era in which every click leaves a trace and digital systems can process huge amounts of data, we have still not done the simplest thing: connect NEISPUO (the national education information system) with electronic gradebooks and build a basic formula that signals risk. It would be completely realistic to calculate a behavioural risk coefficient based on dynamics of grades, absences, notes, changes in performance. Not to stigmatize, but to see the red lights in time: sudden drop in results, sharp increase in absences, systemic conflicts. Instead, “risk assessment” is often reduced to the teacher’s “feeling,” that well-known live subjectivism – “This child is a problem,” “This child is ill-mannered,” “This child is perfect.” Teacher’s likes and dislikes, personal sympathies and antipathies become the main factor in deciding which child will be monitored, which will be reported to the Pedagogical Council, which will be “kept under watch.” The policy “if you speak up, you break discipline and must be punished” is still valid in many places. In such a context the risks of anxiety, depression, substance use, domestic violence, dropping out of school – all this remains invisible if it does not obviously interfere with the learning process. Factors like family environment, parents’ professional status, social risks, early behavioural indicators long known to science are either not considered or are entered into complex and semi-meaningless checklists that no one takes seriously. At best they are marked formally for a project, accreditation, or inspection. In a digitalized and relatively simple-to-manage world, we still behave as if the only technology available were a notebook and a pen. A working risk assessment system could give the school team a summarized picture: which students need attention; where problems cluster; which classes have increased conflict dynamics; what the trends over time are. But such an approach has one serious drawback – it removes subjective comfort from the equation. When data speaks, it becomes harder to say: “This child is just bad,” or “This family is to blame.” We would have to talk about structured risk, predictors, prevention, system. And the system – in its current form – is not used to taking responsibility; it prefers to distribute it horizontally and blur it over time. ASSESSMENT AND THE “FIGHT” AGAINST AGGRESSION The assessment of aggression is another front where statistics is absent or appears only as a sensational backdrop in media reports after yet another scandal. There is no sustainable, transparent, and accessible monitoring showing where, how, in what forms and contexts school aggression manifests. No risk map by regions, no typology of incidents, no qualitative analysis of causes. Without such a picture, targeted measures become almost impossible. Instead of real, tailor-made interventions for a particular school, neighbourhood, community, we get an abstraction that cannot be addressed. From this abstraction there periodically emerge initiatives like “Pink Shirt Day” – symbolic, loud, general. A whole society dresses in pink – with or without a real problem. Photos are taken, posted, “awareness is raised.” The next day the classroom dynamics is exactly the same. No school ever misses declaring that it “works with parents” on aggression. On paper there is no institution that doesn’t announce “trainings,” “workshops,” “meetings” with parents about “proper behaviour.” But most models of aggressive behaviour show that school is also part of the problem. The way children are spoken to, punished and rewarded, labeled, is a strong factor. Unfortunately, teachers often use threats, punishments, and sanctions as the main tool. Instead of highlighting desired behaviour through praise, a smile, positive feedback, attention is focused on the mistake, the mishap, the failure. Phrases like “I’ll send you back to kindergarten,” “Kids in kindergarten know more than you” are meant as educational, but in fact are refined own goals. Because if kids in kindergarten “know more,” that’s not an insult to the child, but to the current teacher and to the system that has failed to build on what was already achieved. The message to the student is clear – “You’re not enough, you’re behind, you’re the problem.” The message to the class is even more dangerous: “Here is a public example of someone failing – observe, mock, distance yourselves.” When children with particularities – be they SEN, learning difficulties, behavioural differences – are publicly treated as “failing,” this is not just bad pedagogy. It is hate speech. Group dynamics quickly turns it into a basis for rejection: “he’s stupid,” “she’s crazy,” “it’s a problem.” In this process, school not only fails to extinguish aggression; it models and legitimizes it. At the same time, when school is successful – “it’s thanks to the teachers.” When there are failures – “the parents are bad.” The other pole is always to blame. Thus a heavy, chronic conflict is fueled between two sides that should be partners. Parents see school as an arrogant structure that blames but doesn’t listen. School sees parents as “clients with demands” who don’t raise their children. In this climate, real work on aggression prevention is reduced to firefighting after an incident. Again without data, without systematic observation, without a clear evaluation of the effect of the measures taken. And it could have been otherwise. We could have a national platform that anonymously collects data on incidents, types of aggression, participants, context. We could see where problems concentrate, which schools are doing better and what they do differently. We could learn from best practices and correct bad ones. But all this requires one thing the system still struggles to allow – to admit that the problem is not only “in the children,” “in the parents,” or “in society,” but also in the very mechanisms of school. Until this admission is made honestly and completely, we will keep treating aggression with pink T-shirts, assess risk “by eye,” and career guidance will remain yet another nice word in documents – with no clear face, no clear responsibilities, and no link to the living person in the front row of the classroom. THE FREEDOM OF THE SYSTEM UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF “TURKISH SLAVERY” IN THE MINDS OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS The scariest part of this picture is not the lack of standards, nor the bureaucracy, but the teacher–parent war – systemic, fueled by both sides. School conveniently believes it knows everything and waits for an opportunity to blame parents for “not raising their children properly.” Parents, for their part, expect school to be a luxury daycare that absolutely fulfills their personal moral elitism, their “right way.” Thus two equally destructive illusions meet – the educational one, that someone else is always to blame, and the civic one, that someone is “obliged” to someone else by birth. Between them fall the children, for whom the link between rights, responsibilities, and duties remains completely murky – no one models it consistently, no one measures it, no one discusses it honestly. Rules are last in line yet first in expectations. We demand they be followed but as adults we daily demonstrate how to bypass them – it’s enough to watch the morning parking in front of school to see a live lesson in double standards. We say “obey the law” while standing on hazard lights on the crosswalk. We say “respect the teacher” while publicly humiliating them. We say “the parent is a partner” while speaking of them as an enemy. At the same time… even the simple grading from 2 (fail) to 6 (excellent) – instead of being formative – functions as a “chainsaw,” a tool for subordination and selection, not for development. We measure almost nothing thoroughly and hardly evaluate anything meaningfully, so the system is paradoxically too free – it allows both magnificent and catastrophic schools to exist side by side without distinguishing between them and without taking responsibility. In such an environment, if Diogenes were alive, he would once again walk out with his lantern – not to look for a good student or a good teacher, but simply to look for a human being among all of them. THE SYSTEM IS FREE – IT NEEDS PEOPLE… [...]

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