Journalist
China is in a hurry to reach the future. Artificial intelligence is in its hands, robots are moving beside it, and an entirely new technological economy is beginning to take shape. But there is another picture behind all that speed.
The dollar’s troubles are no longer coming entirely from outside. Some of them, increasingly, seem to be coming from within the system itself. Donald Trump wants to make America great again—by raising tariffs, tightening the gates of trade and keeping the key to sanctions firmly in his hand. But global markets are a strange place. Push someone too hard, and sooner or later they begin looking for another door. BRICS is now looking for that side door.
On August 16, 2021, the Taliban captured Kabul just a day prior. The last stage of the US military's withdrawal was still in progress. At Hamid Karzai International Airport, events transpired that day which appeared to challenge any straightforward characterization of disorder.
The world is deeply unsettled. Everywhere, the drums of war are beating, the balance of power is shifting, and old maps are being redrawn. Maps, too, have a silent language. In times of peace, a desert, a mountain range or a landlocked region may appear to be little more than coloured patches on a page. But when war breaks out, their value is reassessed. A port is no longer merely a port; a railway becomes a strategic asset; a strait becomes a vital artery for global energy supplies; and a neighbouring country can suddenly become a market, a corridor or a security buffer.
Vast in size but calm by nature. Seen from afar, the Indian Ocean may appear that way. Blue waters. Long maritime routes. Rows of commercial vessels. But over the past decade, the picture has changed. Major construction projects have begun across the ocean. Deep-sea ports in some places. Long runways in others. Military bases elsewhere.
In the official narrative of Pakistan, the term "peace" is associated with a troubling history. Elections occur, parliament convenes, and prime ministers are sworn in; however, alongside political authority looms an unseen presence—the military chief of the country, whose sway often surpasses that of the elected prime minister. When political ties between the central government and a peripheral region deteriorate, the discourse of dialogue is swiftly supplanted by the discourse of security.