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THE LATEST JOURNAL

The Diplomatic Digest: "What's Going On?" - Third Issue (January-February Edition)

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Editor’s Note


Dear reader,

I will not surprise you by telling you that we are in times of crisis. War has erupted in Iran. And with it, a blockade of the Hormuz Strait. The interconnectedness of the global economy is being continuously tested by the day. The rules of the “game”, that had tacitly been in place since the end of the Cold War and often taken for granted, are being redefined before our very eyes.

In this issue of the Diplomatic Digest, contributors examine several forces reshaping contemporary international politics. The issue opens with an analysis of the historical roots of U.S. strategic interest in Greenland, placing current Arctic tensions within a longer pattern of territorial ambition. It then turns to geoeconomics, exploring how shifting geopolitical pressures have revived negotiations over the long stalled EU–India Free Trade Agreement.

Questions of identity and political legitimacy form a second cluster of essays. Contributors examine the actors driving the Kurdish independence movement and reflect on the role of historical memory in shaping political identity and international engagement. The section concludes with a critical assessment of the limits of international legal norms in a system increasingly structured by power politics.

Several special contributions from other LUSDA members broaden the scope of the issue. Essays analyze strategic selectivity in contemporary U.S. power projection, debates over executive authority and crisis governance in the United States, and the political significance of student protest in Serbia’s uneasy position between East and West. A final contribution reflects on the relationship between family memory, migration, and diplomatic responsibility in Europe.

The issue concludes with three opinion columns addressing larger ideological and economic debates. These pieces consider the durability of neoliberal economic orthodoxy, Europe’s tension between protection and openness in trade policy, and the geopolitical implications of China’s growing influence for the future of liberalism.

It is during this time that we must redouble in our efforts to keep informing ourselves amidst a sea of misinformation. It is precisely in this spirit that the members of the Diplomatic Digest, through their analyses and reflections, seek to shed light on the forces shaping our world. We hope that, in doing so, it may help illuminate your understanding of the moment we are living through.

Your Editor-in-chief,

Gonzalo Rodao

Come check out the LUSDA’s Instagram to see what are our next events. Also, register to the form in our website to become a LUSDA member, and enter in the WhatsApp group to stay updated on the Digest and LUSDA’s activities.


The Editorial Team

Gonzalo Rodao
Editor-in-Chief

Flora Jannotti Testa
Konstantin Zametica
Giulia Diurni
Judith Wyplosz
Tristan Pascal
Cristiano Nardelli
Sofia Giandomenico
Digest Team

Guillermo Noritz
Nicola Scorcella
Lana Lazić
Alexander Milano
Special Contributions


In This Issue

Articles
The History of U.S. Interest in Greenland
How it reflects an old pattern of territorial acquisition
By Tristan Pascal

From Stalemate to Accelerated Negotiations
How does the current crisis reflect the revival of the EU-India Free Trade Agreement (2007 - 2026)?
By Judith Wyplosz

The Protagonists of the Kurdish Independence Movement
By Sofia Giandomenico

The Past Is Who We Are: Why Must We Remember That?
By Giulia Diurni

On the (In)Utility of International Law
By Cristiano Nardelli

Special Contributions
The Don-Roe Doctrine
Strategic Selectivity in U.S. Power Projection: The Venezuelan Case
By Alexander Milano

“The Executive Power Shall Be Vested”
Textualism, Crisis Governance, and the Unitary Presidency in the United States
By Nicola Scorcella

Civic Protest and Serbia’s Uneasy Path Between East and West
By Lana Lazić

Memory Cannot Be Deported
From Family History to Diplomatic Responsibility in Europe
By Guillermo Noritz

Columns
Prove Me Wrong
Neoliberalism is dead.
By Gonzalo Rodao

Have Your Cake and Eat It Too?
Fortress Europe vs. Global Bazaar
By Flora Jannotti Testa

Reality of Ideas
Rise of China and the Crisis of Liberalism
By Konstantin Zametica


The History of U.S. Interest in Greenland

How it reflects an old pattern of territorial acquisition
By Tristan Pascal

Pituffik Space Base, an United States Space Force base located on the northwest coast of Greenland. Greenland’s strategic value has returned to the centre of U.S. geopolitical thinking.

Since returning to power more than a year ago, Donald Trump has made no secret of his ambition to own Greenland. The former businessman, who made his fortune in real estate, framed the acquisition of the Danish territory as a major real estate deal. If this ambition could be first taken as a joke by the Danish government, it quickly became a serious threat to national sovereignty.

Copenhagen’s response remained the same, but the tone changed, from polite dismissal to confrontation. This was especially the case following the intensification of U.S. threats towards Greenland in the wake of the special operation in Venezuela and the kidnapping of Nicolás Maduro. The perceived impunity surrounding the actions of the U.S. President in Venezuela has doubled his imperialist ambitions, making him sound more than definitive about taking over Greenland: “We are going to do something on Greenland, whether they like it or not”; “But if we don’t do it the easy way, we’re going to do it the hard way.”

Could this shift towards a more radical tone be influenced by electoral pressures, particularly with the midterms approaching and the potential risk for Republicans to lose control of Congress? Or is it yet another strategy to extract concessions from the EU, making it easier for him to impose tariffs? While the broader U.S. strategy remains uncertain, Washington’s persistent focus on Greenland is far from surprising. Historically, American expansion has been built on the purchase of territories.

It was in the 19th century that the U.S. began to view territorial acquisition as a “promise” of an agriculture-based society and future prosperity. The historian Henry William Brands Jr argues that the United States did not just “grow” by accident. It was a deliberate business strategy where sovereignty was bought to ensure security and economic dominance. Thus, from the beginning of the 19th century, the United States acquired land, willingly or by force. This led to a long period of land purchases for the expansion of the new country.

It started with the purchase of Louisiana from France in 1803, which added 829,000 square miles and effectively doubled the size of the emerging nation. According to Sanford Levinson and Bartholomew H. Sparrow, it is after the Louisiana Purchase that the U.S. realized it was cheaper and more stable to buy territory than to conquer it. The huge addition of the Louisiana Purchase drastically changed the Union by setting into motion a process of further geographic expansion, a process of continental and later extracontinental expansion captured by John O’ Sullivan’s phrase “Manifest Destiny”. It established a “legalistic” expansionism through treaties that made this model unique. From one perspective of the American Constitution, the expansion of the United States by treaty was not exceptional. The Constitution listed no limits as to the proper subject matter of treaties.

After Louisiana, it was Florida’s turn, purchased from Spain in 1819. Then, Alaska was purchased from the Russian Empire in 1867, and the Philippines from Spain again in 1898.

The Americans justified this unique model of growth as spreading “liberty,” or “Manifest Destiny”, even when the primary motivations were often raw resources and denying access to European rivals. This reflects pretty much their actual desire to block China in the Arctic.

Therefore, the United States attempted to acquire Greenland immediately after purchasing Alaska in 1867, signalling a long-standing desire to secure the “High North”. Henry William Brands Jr argued that if the United States became the owner of Alaska in the west and Greenland in the east, this would put pressure on British Canada, the real target of American expansionism. The historian recalls that Washington had already attempted to acquire Canada twice: first during the War of Independence, then during the Anglo-American War of 1812. Since then, Washington has never ceased to consider the island as part of its sphere of influence, a sentiment that has remained a pillar of American Arctic policy.

Imperialistic expansions have a shared resonance with Greenland’s history; the Arctic island having always been a highly coveted prize. Starting with the arrival of the Norwegian explorer Erik the Red in the 10th century and continuing until its formal incorporation into the Kingdom of Denmark via the Treaty of Kiel in 1814. Following the settlement and departure of the original Viking colony, Greenland remained part of the joint Kingdom of Denmark-Norway for several centuries. But this union was dissolved by the Treaty of Kiel, effectively formalising direct Danish colonial rule over the island. During World War II and the German occupation of Denmark, the United States became Greenland’s protector, with the establishment of several military bases.

President Trump’s interest follows a consistent pattern of U.S. “strategic imperialism”. The U.S. had previously purchased Danish territory when it bought the Danish West Indies in 1917, now known as the US Virgin Islands. In 1946, President Harry Truman again offered to buy Greenland.

If Greenland is such an object of desire throughout history, it’s because it is a strategic territory. Situated in the middle of the Arctic, it is becoming a key location following the accelerated melting of the Arctic ice cap, which has paved the way for new trade routes. The Danish territory also holds a vast deposit of rare earth metals, like zinc and uranium, and could hold some of the world’s largest remaining untapped oil and gas deposits. Those resources are therefore coveted by the American power, seen as a vital space necessary to break China’s quasi-monopole of extraction and refining in the region. Geopolitical analysts frame Greenland as the “new Arctic Cuba”, linking this concept to the 1898 Spanish-American War. Just as the U.S. sought to expel Spain from the Caribbean to secure its strategic neighbourhood, it now views Greenland as a non-negotiable defence perimeter to exclude systemic rivals.

Should we therefore fear a military takeover from the US? The security risk arguments advanced by the 47th President of the United States are not really justified. It is Alaska and not Greenland that poses a real security risk to the US, since it borders Russia and five Chinese icebreakers were deployed last year.

Moreover, Trump doesn’t need to possess Greenland to have a military presence. There are already dozens of American military installations deployed since WWII, notably the Pituffik Space Base, which is indispensable for U.S. early warning systems, space surveillance, and homeland defence against Arctic threats. Since the 1951 defence treaty, updated in 2004, the United States military has maintained virtually carte blanche access to Greenlandic territory, even if it must notify the authorities in advance.

A massive increase in the American presence and a resurgence of foreign investment are more plausible than a military takeover. Furthermore, while Greenland’s path to independence seemed the most plausible outcome, the American threat strengthened relations between the Greenlandic people and their Danish colonisers, making a takeover by force even more complicated.

What we can be sure of, however, is that, as historian Timothy Garton Ash explained, “Even if he doesn’t actually do it, this is a new era: a post-western world of illiberal international disorder”.


From Stalemate to Accelerated Negotiations

How does the current crisis reflect the revival of the EU-India Free Trade Agreement (2007 - 2026)?
By Judith Wyplosz

The EU-India trade deal reflects how crisis has accelerated geoeconomic realignment.

After 19 years of negotiations, the EU and India concluded the largest free trade agreement ever signed on January 27, 2026. It aims to reduce a large part of customs fees (up to 75%) and connect 2 billion people. Although Europe presented it as the ‘mother of all deals’, it is also viewed as having created the conditions for its future destruction. In 2024, the EU-India trade was €120 billion. Europe was India’s largest partner (11.5%), and India was Europe’s 9th-largest partner. However, external shocks heightened the need to cooperate to establish a system of customs tariffs, marking a rupture. This agreement appeared to be the best alternative for developing a long-term plan for both parties. Negotiators had to start anew, adopting a new approach by clarifying and distinguishing the guidelines.

Yet we may ask whether this agreement truly stands. Will Europe benefit? Will the deal be countered? Does India remain one of Russia’s greatest allies?

Some people are skeptical of the deal’s nature. According to Founder and CEO of Mactur and CORTMA Alexandros Tsigaridas, the deal was not optimal, and it was made because it was ‘available’. Talks started in 2007 but stalled from 2013. The EU and India had significant disagreements over the automotive, agricultural, and services sectors, making it impossible to reach compromises. For years, both developed trade with the US and with Chinese (Russian) markets, gradually blocking them without other options. The Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022 negatively impacted Europe, thus leading to the relaunch of talks 3 months later between the EU and India. Negotiations accelerated over the past 6 months due to the reimposition of Trump-era tariffs on India and threats against the EU in Greenland. Europe was urged to diversify away from China to reduce its dependence on China’s tightening of trade conditions. India sought to establish itself as a nuclear and space superpower through massive infrastructure investments concentrated in Bangalore. However, some economists argue that India’s rapid growth could turn into a structural crisis if systemic weaknesses are not managed. Healthcare, institutional coordination and social inequalities remain fragile sectors that could transform the so-called “economic miracle” into a mirage. Nevertheless, India holds advantages, such as its vast labour force and its dominant position in the global pharmaceutical industry. This enables the country to maintain its bargaining power during trade negotiations.

Based on prior diplomatic lessons learned, sensitive issues had to be kept separate in parallel tracks to avoid failure. Europe’s priority was to maintain agricultural red lines aligned with EU domestic policies, which exclude beef, rice, and dairy. The EU-India FTA is a test case of EU foreign economic policy in which strategic autonomy conflicts with crisis-driven trade diplomacy. Presented as a « win-win » solution based on strong economic exchanges, India exports labour-intensive goods (clothes, textiles, jewellery) while the EU trades high-tech and high-value goods (cars, machinery).

No longer defined by postcolonial dependency, India is a complex, populous nation of 1.4 billion people. The active population and its ecosystem have the potential to serve the entire world. Narendra Modi invested €25 billion to improve the country’s health system, attract foreign investors, and develop technology using EU imports. The Indian system is poor, with few doctors and hospitals. Still, competencies exist and need to be strengthened to achieve global success. Siemens, a German technology leader, invested €3 billion to address the gap and shape the future of healthcare. The project’s goals are to deliver clear facilities and buildings that achieve a net-zero-carbon footprint by 2030. By adopting the Siemens approach, India has already demonstrated its willingness to align with EU expectations and build trust. The pharmaceutical industry accounts for about 20% of global demand for generic medicines.

Moreover, Europe has an ageing population compared to India’s young, skilled workforce. Following recent public backlash against EU trade agreements, EU negotiators had to address the issue by securing an acceptable domestic political deal. Beyond just being a trade deal, it is also part of a broader strategic partnership to cooperate on security, technology, AI, and infrastructure corridors.

However, critics claim that India will undermine Europe in services and industry, given its 4th-largest economy and enormous capacity. Today, the salary is 18 times lower than in Europe. Thus, this would mark the start of deindustrialization, with additional systems to counter the agreements that should control abuses, even though such agreements are geopolitically legitimate. Furthermore, there is no inclusion of societal or environmental norms. Precisely, many European sectors are fragile and need protection. Still, opening trade with India, which has a €500 million market, may not be the best option. It would follow the Chinese path and also provide Russia with an opportunity to influence India as a strong ally.

The Trump administration denounces European hypocrisy, asserting that economic interests outweigh peace.

Finally the EU-India FTA shows a two-level negotiation process accelerated by geopolitical crisis and structured by strategic hedging, as both parties’ willingness to maintain their autonomy within an increasingly fragmented international order.


The Protagonists of the Kurdish Independence Movement

By Sofia Giandomenico

Kurdish political movements remain central to questions of sovereignty and statehood in the Middle East

The ceasefire between the SDF and the Syrian troops and the renewed unrest in Iran have once again brought the Kurdish question to the centre of Middle Eastern politics. For over a century, the Kurds, a population with a distinct cultural identity, have sought political self-determination. In 1920, the Treaty of Sèvres promised the creation of an independent Kurdistan in the former Ottoman territories, raising hopes for Kurdish statehood. The signing of the Treaty of Lausanne in 1923 overturned these commitments, leaving the Kurds divided among Turkey, Iran, Iraq, and Syria. Today, despite numbering approximately 26 million people, the Kurds remain the largest stateless nation in the world and face constant oppression from the countries they are living in. To have their existence recognised they often are forced to leave their native territories and integrate with the Arab society. Those who remain will have to confront military attacks from the government as it seeks to gain control over key areas, such as oil fields.

Many organisations are fighting for Kurdish independence. Among them is the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), which was established in 1978 by Abdullah Öcalan. It is a Marxist-Leninist organisation that advocates for the creation of an independent Kurdistan. When talking about the PKK, we mainly remember their fight against the Turkish forces, even though they operated in other countries as well. They employed violent tactics and techniques such as car bombs, suicide bombings and assassinations against civilians. Because of their very cruel methods, they often clashed with other Kurdish nationalist movements that opposed them. During the 1990s, the clashes between the PKK and the Turkish forces were regular and intense. These attacks provoked reactions from the international Kurdish community, leading to groups of Kurds occupying the Turkish Airlines offices in Copenhagen in 1990 and in Oslo in 1991. At the same time, many Kurds fled Turkey, fearing for their lives, when Turkish troops were placed in the Kurdish regions. Some progress was made in 2001, when the Turkish government completely lifted the ban on the Kurdish language. In 2013, the European Court of Human Rights determined that the Turkish government had killed innocent civilians through bombing and that they had subjected survivors to inhumane treatment. Ten years later, the PKK announced a ceasefire and last year they announced that they would disarm and disband (although this has not happened yet). Today, they are recognised as a terrorist group by Turkey, the EU and the US.

The second group is the Syrian-based People’s Protection Unit (YPG), which was founded in 2011 as the armed wing of the Kurdish Democratic Union Party, which has been accused of having ties with the PKK by Turkish authorities. Today, they are a militia that makes up the majority of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF). The SDF was created in 2015 to fight the Islamic State alongside the US, which for many years had been a strong ally to them. A year and a half ago, the SDF held power in circa 1/3 of Syrian territory. The status quo was changed in December 2024 when the government’s army made advances in the SDF’s territory, some of which include strategic assets such as oil fields and dams. Since then, the US has withdrawn their support to the SDF, with President Trump meeting the new Syrian President Sharaa, despite allegations of past links with jihadist groups, including al-Qaeda. Statements have been released by the US saying that they no longer view the SDF as their main partner for the fight against the IS. A ceasefire between the Syrian government and the SDF has been signed and extended until the 8th of February, to allow the US to transfer its IS detainees from Syria to Iraq. The ceasefire has the SDF give up most of its territories to the Syrian government and sign a plan to integrate the militia into the state army: this makes the fight for Kurdish independence even harder.

We find a third group in Iran, the Kurdish Democratic Party-Iran (KDPI), which was founded in 1945 to, first, oppose the Shah and, since 1979, the Iranian Republic. Today, they are on the front lines fighting against the theocratic regime. It’s noteworthy that the existence of a female armed division of the KDPI is visibly participating in the protests.

In contrast, the Kurds in Iraq face a somewhat different situation. Even though the Kurds in the 1960s and 1970s faced brutal attacks from the government, in 2017, a referendum was held to create an independent Kurdish region in a territory that was already autonomous. The people voted in favour of it, but the plan was stopped by the Iraqi Supreme Court and the UN, who stated that it would make the already fragile balance in the Middle East collapse.

Despite Kurdish military and political efforts on multiple fronts, the prospect of an independent Kurdish state appears highly unlikely. The establishment of Kurdistan would require a significant reconfiguration of Middle Eastern geopolitics, challenging long-standing state borders and competing regional interests. Within this framework, Kurdish aspirations face not only the resistance of the states involved but also the reluctance of the international community to endorse territorial changes that could further destabilise an already fragile region.


The Past Is Who We Are: Why Must We Remember That?

By Giulia Diurni

ICJ Courtroom. Legal memory and precedent continue to shape how power is judged in the present.

As many of you might know, public international law is a type of legal order that is in continuous making. It is established primarily through two foundations: treaties and customary international law. While the first ones are those types of agreements that states sign and ratify to settle a dispute, customary international law is a juridical structure composed of a frequently repeated state practice accompanied by the belief that it has a legal force (the opinio iuris concept). The main difference is that while treaties are binding only for the states that actually ratify them, customary international law, once recognised as such, is binding for every state. That’s something to keep in mind while reading this article.

It is last month’s news that the US President, Donald Trump, has arrested Venezuela’s (former) President Nicolás Maduro for alleged narcoterrorism and drug importation crimes. Maybe less recent news is that it is not the first time that the US has voluntarily interfered with other countries’ internal affairs.

Let’s, indeed, look at the Nicaragua case (Nicaragua v. United States of America, ICJ, 1986). Back on 9 April 1984, Nicaragua filed an Application at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) alleging US responsibility for “military and paramilitary activities in and against Nicaragua” and simultaneously requested provisional measures to halt ongoing operations. On 10 May 1984, the Court indicated provisional measures, including ordering the US to cease actions restricting access to Nicaraguan ports and reaffirmed the principles of Sovereignty, non-use of force, and non-intervention. The United States argued that the ICJ lacked jurisdiction and that the Application was inadmissible, invoking its 1984 Policy Reservation (which excluded from ICJ jurisdiction any cases involving disputes with Central American states or disputes related to events in Central America for two years) and disputing Nicaragua’s ability to rely on declarations under Article 36 of the Statute. Despite that, the ICJ later issued a Judgment on Jurisdiction and Admissibility by not agreeing with the US’s contestation. Shortly thereafter, at the beginning of 1985, the United States announced it would not participate in further proceedings on the merits, though the case continued in its absence (Article 53, ICJ Statute). The main allegations against Nicaragua were about the US’s use of force and intervention in its internal affairs by organising, training, arming, equipping, financing, and supplying the Contras, the direct military actions infringing sovereignty and maritime commerce and the violation of bilateral obligations under the 1956 FCN Treaty. On the other hand, the United States invoked collective self-defence, charging Nicaragua with support to insurgents in El Salvador, and asserted its actions were thus justified. On 27 June 1986, the ICJ delivered its Merits Judgment, ruling for Nicaragua on multiple counts, including the violation of the prohibition on the Use of Force, the principle of Non-Intervention and the breach of Sovereignty and the 1956 FCN Treaty.

Now, it is obvious that the two situations written are completely different: Maduro’s case involves individual criminal liability in US courts, while the Nicaragua case adjudicated state responsibility. However, the key point here is the fact that the past never truly passes; instead, it embeds itself in the legal and political structures that govern the present. The Nicaragua case was, of course, a dispute between two states in the 1980s, but it crystallised fundamental principles of sovereignty, non-use of force, and non-intervention that have since become fundamental to customary international law, binding on all states regardless of treaty ratification. Afterwards, customary norms endure that we must revisit cases like Nicaragua when witnessing contemporary controversies. Although the two situations differ in nature, they correspond to the essential question of whether a powerful state may project to force unilaterally into the territory of another without any kind of consent, something that the ICJ clearly stated in 1986. Henceforth, remembering this precedent may be an academic exercise; yet we should think of it as a souvenir that international law develops through accumulated state practice, and that forgetting its lessons risks normalizing behaviours the international community once agreed were unlawful. That’s why the past is who we are, because it defines the rules we inherit, or we risk allowing those rules to be rewritten not by collective agreement, but by the unrestrained actions of the strongest.


On the (In)Utility of International Law

By Cristiano Nardelli

The United Nations Headquarters in New York. International law remains contested as both a normative system and a practical instrument.

There exists a doctrinal quandary within Legal Studies in conceiving International Law as law in the proper sense: a stance justified by the arduous task of interpreting International Law through the lens of the principle of imputation, responsibility, and sanction (at least as traditionally construed), which instead readily accommodates other manifestations of law stricto sensu. There prevails a sentiment whereby, whereas law ordinarily functions through an internal mechanism governed by the normativistic principle of coercive and sanctioning imputation (If A, Then B), International Law evinces a peculiar laxity, which might aptly be abbreviated in a logical formula such as If A, Then Perhaps B. And the dilemma resides both in the hypothetical nature of the apodosis itself (in the dubiety, therefore, of effects within the legal order upon the conduct of States) and, preeminently, in the very essence of these consequences, for the international order lacks that ultimate Carl Schmitt’s (1888-1985) Macht which, in International Law, manifests solely in attenuated forms, largely negligible for States.

Forgoing the reiteration of apologias for International Law that certain professors of this discipline are wont to proffer at the opening of their courses, in a somewhat disproportionate endeavour to safeguard the epistemological worth of their subject (a circumstance that assuredly does not arise at the outset of a course in Private Law or Criminal Law, whose doctrinal validity is apparently uncontested, given that the legal-positivist quandary regarding the juridical nature of these branches of law appears not to arise), I wish momentarily to commiserate with these scholars, precisely in an historical juncture wherein their encomium proves arduous to sustain amid the distraught international geopolitical milieu.

It may astonish one to learn that he who has been extolled for his logical formulation of the principle of imputation in a normativistic vein within his Reine Rechtslehre (1934), namely, Hans Kelsen (1881-1973), ranks among those who most formally championed the indispensability of International Law and its irreducible structural sinew. In sum, whosoever professes legal positivism while asserting the normativistic inconsistency of International Law must reckon with the fact that the idol of legal positivists advocated precisely the inexorability and substantive juridic-normative force of International Law. Kelsen expounds his thesis on the normative validity of International Law in Das Problem der Souveränität und die Theorie des Völkerrechts (1920), wherein the foundational themes of the Pure Theory of Law emerge (the necessity of ascribing legal categories, the expurgation of subjective accretions, the hierarchical constitution of the Stufenbau, the postulate of the Grundnorm), augmented by a subtle argumentative thread that verges upon a fundamental natural-law jurisprudence. The circumstance that The Problem of Sovereignty and the Theory of International Law antedated the composition and publication of the Reine Rechtslehre holds interest from the vantage of this article’s exposition: Kelsen initially ventured out into the terrain of International Law, perceiving therein the germ for his Pure Theory of Law, as though he had discerned in International Law a primordial foundation for his Reine Rechtslehre.

Primarily, for Kelsen there obtains no solution of continuity between the state legal order and the international legal order, thereby delineating a “monistic” thesis antithetical to the predominant “dualistic” one of Heinrich Triepel (1868-1946), which envisaged a thematic and objective irreconcilability between national law and international law, wherein the latter, traditionally governing inter-state relations, ought to evince no contiguities with the former, and even where such might obtain, they would resolve in the primacy of national law (pursuant to a sovereigntist principle that undergirds international relations themselves). For Kelsen, contrariwise, law must epistemologically posit itself as a unitary question, wherein international law and national law coexist under the aegis of a singular category, that of Recht. Yet it is not merely an epistemological impetus from which Kelsen derives this unity: it is primarily a normativistic and ontological exigency. If, for Kelsen, the legal order explicates itself precisely through the Stufenbau (and thus in the hierarchical organisation of the sources of law, which constitute the ordinans of the legal order), finding its foundation in the Grundnorm as the principle of conceivability for the legal order itself (a logical prius by whose light one may apprehend the Recht deemed valid in that order), there resides something that binds the Grundnorm to International Law. Indeed, in Das Problem, Kelsen confronts precisely the postulate of the law of each State, which is the concept of the State itself, and thus of Sovereignty: one cannot conceive of National Law dehors or in the absence of a juridical category that encompasses the notion of State, thereby constituting a fundamental discrimen between that which pertains to the legal order and that which does not. And, Kelsen asserts, it is Public International Law that defines, and thus constitutes, the contours of the existence (as well as the validity) of the State, elaborating the dogmatic definition of “State” (notably posited in the 1933 Montevideo Convention, yet rooted in International Customary Law). International Law thus emerges as a law “antecedent” to National Law, wherein the latter must locate its constitutive rationale. The Kelsenian Stufenbau, accordingly, spontaneously incorporates the norms of International Law, situating them in a position that must perforce be superior even to constitutional norms, which, though serving substantially to constitute a state, presuppose a definition of state that, as reiterated, only International Law can furnish.

Precisely by virtue of this substantiating function vis-à-vis National Law, International Law cannot but partake in an organic unity with the state legal order. From this, one comprehends also the possibility of direct continuity of international law sources within the national order: it is possible, that is, that no state intermediation be requisite for the assimilation of certain sources of international law. This effect is precluded by dualistic theory, which deemed indispensable the transmutation of international norms into nationally compatible norms for their efficaciousness within the internal legal order. And this clarifies why, for Kelsen, Triepel’s subjective distinction must be abrogated: the subjects of international law are no longer solely States, but also all entities upon which the normative activity of the state may extend, and thus Individuals as well. Kelsen qualifies this rapport in a manner that approximates an inclusive theory of morality: International Law must prevail as a universal ethical domain, promulgator of fundamental values and human rights, and, above all, of peace among states. Thus, the international legal order veritably becomes the substratum of all Recht, from which the latter arises in its structure and in its substance. Yet heed this: it constitutes no factual deviation from Kelsenian normativism. There is always a positivistic and rational justification: for the sustenance of the international legal order, peace becomes a requisite (moral and political, but also juridical) for the preservation of the logico-juridical categories of international law.

The necessity of the international legal order, as formalistically justified by Kelsen, elates that, perhaps, more rigorous faction of legal doctrine. For all who yet harbour doubts concerning the juridicity of international law, Kelsen once more reaffirms it, contra the interpretation of John Austin (1790-1859), who had sought to construe International Law as “positive morality”, that is, an order which, bereft of its own original sovereignty (explicated particularly as mobilisation of armed force), presents itself in reality as “disarmed law”. After all, Kelsen too had postulated that where law obtains, sanction ensues (here told as coercion, and thus as the exercise of physical force or the threat thereof), and that, conversely, only with sanction can one verily speak of law (Zwangsmaßnahme) and thus of the juridicity of an order. International Law, then, would not be fully juridical, because the international legal order ostensibly does not equip itself with its own armed force, or at any rate with instruments of coercion enabling the material execution of sanctions. Yet in Das Problem, Kelsen resolves this quarrel by severing the notion of the efficacy of Zwang from Zwang itself: if the order encompasses a rule governing the deployment of coercive sanction (consider, iconically, Article 2.4 and the entirety of Chapter VII of the United Nations Charter), this suffices to render it juridical, for the quandary of its efficacy is not strictly normative but executive. Assuredly, it remains a “primitive” juridical system, owing to the decentralised character of its sanctioning structure, wherein the progressive legal order is one in which the exercise of force is prised from individual initiative and centralised in specialised organs. Like all primitive societies, the international community devolves upon its members the task of exercising force in the form of self-help or compulsory reparation of harm. Yet it does so not indiscriminately: it enunciates certain rules that qualify recourse to violence among States as licit or illicit. And these are the rules codified by the doctrinal tradition of ius bellum, unjustly neglected, Kelsen contends, by modern theorists of international law, for “whosoever repudiates the theory of ius bellum denies the juridical nature of international law”.

Concluding this encomium of mine of International Law (which was not intended as an apologia), I by no means presume to have resolved the entirety of the debate on the juridicity of International Law. Indeed, I myself harbour manifold doubts still. In the perspective of an International Law that grows ever more soft, forsaking the dogmatism of juridical notions, I find that the contractualistic reading of Public International Law by Thomas Erskine Holland (1835-1926) illumines with heightened glare: the norms of International Law, far from evincing the typical cogent and sanctioning character of public law, are instead marked by the typical flexibility of contractual sources, which adapt predominantly to the subjective position of the parties to the rapport, engendering, in most instances, an apparent freedom of recession and thus a regime of liberté d’agir verging upon opportunism, thereby disintegrating that inexorable presupposition of normativism, and thus of juridicity, which is the certainty of law.


The Don-Roe Doctrine

Strategic Selectivity in U.S. Power Projection: The Venezuelan Case
By Alexander Milano

A supporter shouts slogans during a protest on Tuesday against the result of the presidential election in Caracas, Venezuela. President Nicolás Maduro was declared as the winner of the 2024 presidential election over his rival, Edmundo González. The result has been questioned by the opposition and internationally.
Caracas, Venezuela (2024). Jesus Vargas/Getty Images. Venezuela serves as a test case for a more selective and interest-driven U.S. power projection.

This issue of the Diplomatic Digest includes only the abstract of “The Don-Roe Doctrine: Strategic Selectivity in U.S. Power Projection: The Venezuelan Case.” The full article is available online and can be read at the following link: https://open.substack.com/pub/lusdaluiss/p/the-don-roe-doctrine?utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=web.

Abstract

This article provides an interpretative analysis of the Don-Roe Doctrine, a projective strategy implemented by U.S. foreign policy during President Donald J. Trump’s second mandate. It examines the January 3rd, 2026, intervention in Venezuela as the first empirical proof-of-concept of strategic selectivity in American power projection, outlining the impact of the current transitional phase of the United States’ departure from traditional liberal internationalist norms and system maintenance to a systematic prioritization of interest-maximizing interventions in targeted regions.

Used as the primary exemplification of the operationality of this doctrine, the Venezuelan analysis situates the U.S. foreign policy strategy within a broader geopolitical framework, linked through patterns of past domestic and foreign policy implementation, and complemented by the November 2025 National Security Strategy (NSS). As such, the study delves into the doctrine’s regional applicability, extending to different geopolitical strongholds, such as the economic hegemonic competition with China, or generative cascading effects on dependent states such as Cuba.

The analytical focus on Venezuela highlights three strategic risks that are rapidly materializing within the Bolivarian State today: energy volatility, threats of governance failure, and the prospects of escalation spillover, each of which is managed through energy control, territorial leverage, and institutional bypassing. Taken together, the central debate extends to new perceptions of regional and global stability. Consequently, the investigation gravitates towards the definition of the Don-Roe Doctrine itself, linking it to both 19th-century indoctrination and the 2025 National Security Strategy of the U.S., culminating in the targeted regional applications of the doctrine in Venezuela.


“The Executive Power Shall Be Vested”

Textualism, Crisis Governance, and the Unitary Presidency in the United States
By Nicola Scorcella

The Supreme Court in the United States. The expansion of executive power in the U.S. raises fresh questions about constitutional balance.


Textualism, Crisis Governance, and the Unitary Presidency in the United States

‘I have the right to do whatever I want’, ‘He who saves the country doesn’t violate any laws’, ‘Read Art. II, which gives the President powers you wouldn’t believe’. These words seem in character for a dictator or a hybrid regime. Still, they sparked outrage at the beginning of Donald Trump’s time as U.S. President (POTUS). How can they flourish in a free society?

While dismissing them as the President’s delusions might be tempting, this would be superficial and would underestimate the foundations of American institutions, making us more vulnerable.

Article II, Textualism, and the Problem of Executive Unity

Trump’s own reference in Article II of the U.S. Constitution shows the origin of certain statements.

‘The executive power shall be vested in a President of the United States of America. He shall hold his office during the term of four years, and, together with the Vice President, chosen for the same term, be elected, as follows.’

The first word of the article is ‘The’. It says the President has all executive power. If we take the Founding Fathers’ words literally, this is what it says. But what is wrong with considering that the President controls the powers in accordance with the separation of powers? The problem is that the American executive is not ‘united’.

The American executive branch comprises the 15 best-known executive departments (e.g. the State Department, the Department of Defense and the Treasury), as well as “independent agencies”. These were created to limit presidential power, primarily to curb risky fiscal policies, but also to safeguard national security. This is part of a broader “checks and balances” system in which no branch of government can operate unchecked. The funding of these agencies is obtained through congressional approval, preventing the Presidency from imposing its agenda by withholding funds. Examples include NASA, the Federal Election Commission and the Federal Reserve System. Supporters of the “Unitary Executive Theory” argue that, according to the Second Article of the Constitution, these agencies are executive bodies and are therefore subject to the authority of the President, who controls their employees and can dismiss them at will.

Judicial Ambivalence and the Rise of the Unitary Executive Theory

There have been several cases in which the expansion of executive power over independent agencies has come before the Supreme Court, often producing ambiguous results. The first such clash occurred in 1935 in the case of Humphrey’s Executor v. United States, when President Franklin Delano Roosevelt was accused of dismissing a Federal Trade Commission commissioner who opposed his New Deal Agenda. The Supreme Court ruled against the President, finding that he lacked the power to remove the commissioner. In a similar case in 1988, the Court reiterated this view. However, only one judge dissented from this reasoning: Supreme Justice Antonin Scalia, a founder of the Unitary Executive Theory. Scalia defended the textualist approach to interpreting the Constitution, which holds that the words of the Founding Fathers should be applied as written.

Since then, the Court’s composition and method of constitutional interpretation have changed profoundly, favouring the textualism already defended by Scalia. In the 2020 case of Seila Law LLC v. Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, the Court wrote: ‘Our tolerance of independent agencies in Humphrey’s Executor is an unfortunate example of the Court’s failure to apply the Constitution as written. That decision has paved the way for an ever-expanding encroachment of the power of the executive, contrary to our constitutional design’. The prospect of overturning Humphrey’s Executor seems closer than ever.

Congressional Acquiescence and the Trade-off Between Efficiency and Pluralism

Now that the Republican Party controls the Presidency, the House and the Senate – the so-called ‘trifecta’ – and the Supreme Court is mainly composed of Republican-appointed judges who favour a textualist approach, President Trump’s ever-increasing centralisation of power seems unstoppable.

However, the executive branch is not solely responsible for this development. Michael Waldman, a U.S. attorney, has expressed doubt: “If you see the president acting in aggressive ways, maybe it’s because Congress actually supports him.” While it is true that the Bush administration skipped Congress’s approval in passing unprecedented securitarian measures in response to 9/11, it should also be noted that when Congress was called upon to confirm these decisions, it simply approved them without question. Congress preferred short-term political outcomes to the long-term defence of institutional prerogatives. Congress did the same during Trump’s first term following the attacks in Iran that led to Soleimani’s death. As Concordia University professor Graham Dodds summarised, ‘Although presidents and their advisors have been the main force behind the rise of the unitary executive theory, it is Congress that has been complicit in it’. Nevertheless, it is also not possible to refute the considerable pressures that, since the mid-20th century, have resulted in a “fettered presidency”. This is due to an all-encompassing and nosy post-Watergate Congress, unable to react quickly to public and global issues, and of questionable constitutional legitimacy.

Looking ahead, it is unclear whether GOP lawmakers will collectively renounce their deference to their party leader, POTUS, and risk being ousted in the next election to proclaim themselves martyrs of a constitutional prerogative with shaky foundations. Similarly, it seems highly unlikely that the president, whether Democrat or Republican, will opt to empower the minority to obstruct his actions. The upcoming midterm elections, on which congressional majorities depend, will reveal whether the American people ultimately favour an unstable democracy riven with internal conflict, or an efficient hybrid regime driven by the president.


Civic Protest and Serbia’s Uneasy Path Between East and West

By Lana Lazić

The Novi Sad (Serbia) railway station in 2021. Student protests in Serbia have become a wider contest over legitimacy, Europe, and institutional decay..

On 1 November 2024, the canopy of Novi Sad’s newly renovated railway station, built as part of a Serbian Chinese partnership, collapsed, causing 16 fatalities and injuring many others. The station, once meant to stand as a symbol of modernization, instead revealed deep problems in governance, oversight, and public responsibility.

In the days following the collapse, Serbian students filled the streets, demanding accountability from those who had built and approved such a project.

More than one year later, the tragedy continues to resonate far beyond Novi Sad. It reflects Serbia’s political trajectory, its uneasy path toward Europe, and the civic awakening of a generation that chose to speak out.

The collapse of the Novi Sad canopy was more than an engineering failure; it was a moment that exposed the fragility of trust between citizens and their institutions. Investigators confirmed that the structure had been approved without the required occupancy permit. In addition, poor oversight by civil engineering and architectural experts, as well as inadequate construction work, contributed to the tragedy. The NGO Transparency Serbia later stated that the government had released only partial documentation on the project, deepening public suspicion.

In response, students across the country organized peaceful marches and vigils, but also blockaded universities, suspending lectures and exams to underline the urgency of their demands. They demanded the publication of complete documentation related to the canopy’s collapse and criminal accountability for those responsible. What began as collective mourning quickly turned into an organized civic movement driven by outrage and a profound longing for justice. Students were soon joined by professors, doctors, artists, lawyers, and many others who recognized in their protest a shared struggle for the common good. Within weeks, the protests grew into one of the largest youth mobilizations since the early 2000s, spreading from Novi Sad to Belgrade and other cities.

Furthermore, the Novi Sad tragedy laid bare not only technical negligence but also the deeper weaknesses of Serbia’s system of governance. Over the past decade, political power has become so centralized that institutions often serve parties rather than citizens. The investigations into the canopy’s collapse unfolded in a system where transparency is limited and accountability is selective. The government’s hesitant response and lack of compassion only deepened the feeling of distance between rulers and citizens.

Serbia’s internal politics are inseparable from its geopolitical posture. While officially pursuing EU membership, Belgrade continues to balance between Brussels and Moscow. As political analyst Srdjan Cvijić noted for The Guardian, “Vučić’s government likes to act as if it sits on several geopolitical chairs, balancing between East and West, but in reality, it leads the country solely in the president’s interest; taking money from Brussels and orders from Moscow.”

For a long time, the EU remained largely silent regarding the ongoing protests in Serbia. Brussels prioritized its relationship with President Aleksandar Vučić, viewing him as a key partner for Balkan stability. The Union also maintained substantial economic interests in Serbia, including growing investment and trade relations. This appeared to be a strategic choice, but the direction taken by European bureaucrats often seemed to reflect a lack of empathy toward a democratic movement.

Nevertheless, over time, European leaders, from Ursula von der Leyen to the European Parliament’s rapporteurs, have repeatedly urged Serbia to take more genuine steps toward strengthening the rule of law and media freedom. As a matter of fact, the European Commission’s report of 4 November 2025 delivered its harshest assessment of Serbia in years. It cited clear backsliding in democracy, fundamental rights, and media freedom, thereby confirming that the governance crisis exposed by the tragedy remains unresolved. Paradoxically, it is Serbia’s students, not its institutions, who continue to embody the EU’s central values of transparency, accountability, and civic responsibility.

The student led protests that followed the Novi Sad tragedy led to a nationwide awakening, turning students into pioneers of deep societal change. The demonstrations culminated on 15 March 2025, when hundreds of thousands filled the streets. Many hoped it would become another 5 October 2000, the day when mass demonstrations brought down the regime of Slobodan Milošević. Yet, the reality today is different. Whereas the movement of 2000 sought to remove an autocrat, today’s protests aim to rebuild democratic responsibility and civic trust, and to restore the proper functioning of institutions. Even after more than a year of protests, students remain the most trusted voices in Serbia, more so than opposition parties or institutions.



Memory Cannot Be Deported

From Family History to Diplomatic Responsibility in Europe
By Guillermo Noritz

Picture of a boat full of immigrants from Europe to New York in the 20th Century. Ernst Haas/Getty Images. Memory, exile, and responsibility remain inseparable in Europe’s political present.

Diplomacy does not operate in a vacuum: it is built upon the collective memory of Peoples. As students and professionals of international relations, we often analyse migration flows through the lens of statistics and geopolitics. However, forgetting the human factor is the first step toward repeating the errors of the past. This is the story of an exile that could belong to anyone today, and a warning regardingthe moral debt we have incurred.

My grandmother was eight years old when she was forced to flee her homeland following the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War. She left Spain clinging to her parents’ hands, leaving behind her childhood, her accent, her neighbours, her school, her games: everything that was familiar to her. At home, she never forgot her beloved Catalan language, nor Lleida, nor the arid landscapes that smelled of almond trees, nor the laundry hanging between sorrowful balconies. Our home, far away on another continent, always smelled of panellets, roasted chestnuts, and fricandó. The Catalan autumn lived within us, even if the calendar stated otherwise. Her mother, my great-grandmother, could never return. She said goodbye to Spain without knowing she was to leave forever. She never embraced her loved ones again.

War, fear, and distance stole from her even the chance for a proper goodbye. The Spain she knew disappeared, and with it, a part of herself that never recovered. I grew up listening to those stories. Stories of the post-war period, of hunger, of Francoism. The long waits for letters crossing the Atlantic. The remittances from Argentina, Venezuela, and Brazil brought hope in the form of coffee, chocolate, or second-hand clothes.

The Americas offered not only refuge but dignity to those who no longer had a future here. Yet today, I watch with a mix of anger and sadness as our history becomes increasingly forgotten in the corridors of European power, a weight that bears heavily on my chest; how the poor leaders fuel hatred using populist rhetoric; how they reconstruct old borders with new words and convert differences into an existential threat; how they speak of migrants as if we were a security problem rather than part of the living fabric of this wounded humanity.

And that is why I write this for our university community: because I am afraid. Afraid that the peace and the European project for which our grandparents fought so hard will crumble due to the arrogance of a few. Afraid that history will repeat itself, but worse: without memory, without resistance, without compassion. Let us be vigilant. Not everything begins with weapons. Sometimes violence begins with a speech, a law, a look. Politics, when emptied of humanity, becomes poison.

Today, more than ever, Europe must remember that it was not always a refuge. It was also exile. And those who left, like my grandmother, did not take only suitcases. They took the soul of this continent to another place. Africa and the Americas were a refuge, a shelter, a home. And they were so without demanding anything more than respect and effort.

As future diplomats and leaders, we must recognise that we have a debt. A moral, historical, and human debt. And the minimum expression of gratitude is not to repeat the disdain that caused so much pain. Because hate is not inherited. Hate is not natural. Hate is learned. And the only result is destruction.

Let us combat hate and discrimination in our daily reality. Let us combat it not with weapons or aggression, but with empathy, dialogue, and the firm determination to move forward together, creating a world where no one is left behind.


Prove Me Wrong

Neoliberalism is dead.
By Gonzalo Rodao

Prove Me Wrong is a column that dares to challenge conventional wisdom in international affairs, one “hot take” at a time. Each piece begins with a claim that might sound controversial, but is backed by analysis and grounded in fact. The goal isn’t to preach, but to provoke discussion and critical thinking among readers who care about diplomacy, politics, and global change. Agree or disagree, please just don’t stay indifferent.

Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland (2026). Fabrice Coffrini/Getty Images.

“Let me be direct. We are in the midst of a rupture, not a transition”. Those words came from Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney, who addressed the World Economic Forum in Davos on January 20th. He chose “rupture” because the rules that made the post-Cold War order coherent no longer bind the major players. Extreme global integration at this scale is starting to show its risks. What’s interesting is that Carney matters here because he is not simply an outsider commenting on the current political zeitgeist; he was part of the machinery that enforced the old order throughout his entire career. Neoliberalism was never only a set of ideas; it was a governing style enforced through central banks, finance ministries, and international institutions. And as governor of the Bank of Canada and later the Bank of England, he not only sat in the front row of the neoliberal show; he directly embodied it. He helped apply its discipline, absorb its biggest shocks, such as the 2008 financial crisis, and defend its credibility in public. And yet, just like an executioner during medieval times, he delivers the sentence after the judgment has been passed, when appeal is no longer possible, and when the act serves only to record a conclusion already reached.

Since the 1980s, neoliberalism has dominated Western economics and politics. Its core principle? Freedom through markets would lead to freedom for everyone. Its intellectual origins lie with Friedrich Hayek, in response to the European catastrophe of the 1930s. A period where extremist authoritarian regimes used collectivist approaches to the economy and mass politics to subdue the individual to the state. Naturally, he would go on to claim that all government planning threatened freedom. Milton Friedman, a collaborator of Hayek, later tied the market to the role of guarantor of political freedom. He believed that markets allowed consumers to exercise their free will, with spending serving as a way for people to effectively “vote” on how they want to live. As such, the idea of neoliberalism rested on the notion that governments should be as small as possible; that markets should allocate resources with no political interference; and that capital should be free to move. The state should focus only on price stability, fiscal restraint, and the independence of the central bank (ring a bell, anyone?). Speaking of America, which neoliberalism Reagan heralded as the new solution, now finds itself using industrial subsidies and tariffs at unprecedented levels to compete with the rise of China. These tools violate the foundation of that same system. It would be easy to blame it all on Trump, but even Biden’s administration kept the tariffs on China in place from his predecessor’s first term. This has moved beyond simple domestic politics. Add to that an America that wants to renege on its commitments and bully its own allies while reinforcing imperialist tendencies, leaving Western countries in a particularly tough spot, as Carney mentioned in his speech. A world marked by geopolitical rivalry, energy insecurity and demographic pressure renders market primacy ultimately insufficient.

While it has seen its end internationally, domestically, its values are also ill-equipped to shield its own people from the inevitable economic consequences of such global volatility. As such, we fall into neoliberalism’s biggest trap: it curiously ignores unequal income, wealth and power. Markets, through no fault of their own, give power to wealth, which is unfairly distributed and so are by definition built on inequality. By their very mechanism, they are also meant to maintain it since neoliberalist thinking believes freedom exists inside the market. What happens outside of it is of little matter as long as the wheels are turning. Such system could never fully reflect equal freedom. Flashy GDP growth and other economic indicators seem to suggest people are “doing well”. Yet ordinary households face a rising cost of living that doesn’t keep pace with inflation, and wages that don’t keep up with housing costs and rent increases. All while states seem powerless to provide adequate solutions to their citizens. When you mess with people’s pockets and dignity, voters do not respond with liberalism. Hayek worried about centralized authority. He underestimated centralized dependency. So much so that hollowing out of the state was a necessary evil to him. Having himself escaped from Nazi Germany and the horrors of political extremism, he tried to prevent authoritarianism by removing the political aspect of economical life. The irony writes itself: neoliberalism ended up creating a form of chaos that the market could not even contain, and now politics is responding in the way Hayek sought to spare future generations.

The lazy conclusion to be made here is that neoliberalism inevitably leads to fascism. We must go beyond that; we must recognize that it brought out the worst levels of unparalleled greed. Younger generations seem to understand this better than older ones. Unlike our predecessors, the promised exchange no longer holds. Education does not secure mobility. Work does not secure housing anymore. Growth does not secure stability. Effort has stopped equating to outcome a long time ago. Forget ideology; it’s simple game theory: participation in this system becomes irrational. For decades, neoliberalism derived its legitimacy from its promise to keep raising living standards through economic growth. On January 20th, we got the most official confirmation that that promise no longer holds. Prove me wrong.

Feel strongly and disagree with my article? Then by all means, come chat with me @gonzo_elterrible on Instagram and prove me wrong!


Have Your Cake and Eat It Too?

Fortress Europe vs. Global Bazaar
By Flora Jannotti Testa

Every month, this column explores a new theme, usually framed as a dilemma. Think of it like the Trolley Problem, but for politics, economics, and diplomacy. My goal each month? To see whether these “dilemmas” are actually dilemmas at all, or whether it is possible to get the best of both worlds. In other words, must we really pick the red pill or the blue pill?

Cargo ship at Maasvlakte Port, the largest container cluster in Europe, in Rotterdam, Netherlands. Europe’s trade strategy is increasingly caught between openness and protection.

It has been a frenetic start to the year for European trade. One moment, we are shaking hands at the historic signing of the EU-Mercosur agreement in Asunción just a few weeks ago. The next, we are staring down the barrel of a trade war with the U.S., with new tariffs threatening to hit European goods as early as February 7th, 2026. The buzzword at the Commission is no longer just “openness,” but “defense.” The Union is torn between its DNA as a free-trading champion and the harsh reality of a geopolitical cage match against China and the U.S.

On one side of the ring, we have the “Fortress Europe” proponents. Their argument is simple: free trade is naive when the rest of the world isn’t playing by the rules. They point to China, where state-owned enterprises operate with negative profitability just to flood the market and kill foreign competition. They point to the U.S., which has abandoned the WTO rulebook in favor of “reciprocal tariffs.” For this camp, the priority is to protect European industry. This could mean implementing “Made in EU” requirements for public incentives and establishing permanent protection instruments for vulnerable sectors, such as steel. To them, opening our borders now is an invitation to industrial suicide.

On the other side of the ring, the free-traders argue that protectionism is a luxury we cannot afford. Europe is an export economy, and if we close the gates, we stagnate. They champion the new deal with Mercosur (which creates a market of 700 million consumers and saves EU businesses €4 billion a year in duties) as the model to follow. Their view is that we must diversify: we need raw materials and new partners like India, Indonesia, and Australia to de-risk from China without decoupling. In their view, a fortress offers not protection, but imprisonment.

So… can we have our cake and eat it too?

The official line from Brussels is a confident “Yes.” They call it “Assertive Openness”. The theory is that we can keep the cake (market access) while eating it with a new set of protective utensils: trade defense instruments. Ideally, we keep our market open while retaining the option to deploy the Anti-Coercion Instrument to deter bullying. We trade freely, but enforce the Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism (CBAM) to ensure foreign competitors pay the same climate price as our companies. We invite foreign bidders, but only if they meet strict criteria that filter out dumping practices.

However, the uncomfortable truth is that this “middle path” might be a delusion. Trying to balance these two worlds assumes that our partners will simply accept our new rules. But what if they don’t? Industry experts are already warning that the effectiveness of tools like CBAM remains unproven and could backfire, creating double burdens for our own manufacturers. Furthermore, our attempts to be assertive with the U.S. haven’t stopped them from threatening a 25% tariff hike by June if we don’t fall in line.

If we push too hard with our defense instruments, we risk triggering the very trade war we are trying to avoid. If we rely too much on openness, we risk our strategic sectors being hollowed out by state subsidies that no amount of anti-dumping investigations can catch in time.

So, can we actually have both? To be honest, I’m not sure. The path of Assertive Openness is less a solution than a high-wire act. Any misstep could prove fatal for our economy. We might want to have our cake and eat it too, but in 2026, there’s a very real chance someone else will just eat our lunch.

Disagree? Great! Like all our columns at the Diplomatic Digest, this one’s meant to be a conversation. If you’ve got your own take on how to solve this dilemma, reach out for a chat!


Reality of Ideas

Rise of China and the Crisis of Liberalism
By Konstantin Zametica

New column alert! Reality of Ideas: In a brave new world of rapidly advancing technology and an increasingly globalized society, this new column seeks to inquire into the ideological state of the world and illuminate how differing political philosophies shape global politics and society.

Tiananmen Square in Beijing, China (2024). China’s global rise exposes contradictions in the liberal order it now challenges.

We mark the beginning of a new age by the occurrence of momentous events. The universally used Gregorian calendar counts the years since the birth of Jesus Christ. We further subdivide the years of our lord (Anno Domini) by historical eras we retroactively identify and define. The Middle Ages ended when Columbus discovered the Americas. Modernity is generally agreed to have begun with the Industrial Revolution. Events that brought about enormous, overarching changes are the ones selected as signs, or even bridges, into new eras of history. October 1st, 1949, the day when Mao Zedong proclaimed the new People’s Republic of China on Tiananmen Square in Beijing, might very well be one of those events.

To grasp the magnitude of October 1st, an inquiry into Chinese modern foreign policy is mandated.

What shapes Chinese behaviour on the global stage is the struggle against the liberal democratic West. After the Cold War, liberal democracy, centred in the West, became a dominant ideology on the global stage, mainly due to the cultural, social, political, and economic capital of Western countries, which lacked a serious ideological challenger after the collapse of the Soviet Union. China, however, became the next major threat to the collective West due to its rapid economic rise. China adapted its interpretation of communism to suit the market-oriented global economy, but where there was convergence in economic ideals, there was divergence in social values, as China refused to accept liberal democracy as its guiding ideology. The heavy ideological push from both sides created significant tensions between China and the West, leading to antagonistic relations between the two powers. In this context, modern Chinese foreign policy developed in interesting ways, exposing the cracks and unstable foundations of liberal democracy as practiced by Western governments.

To properly understand what I mean by this, an ancient Chinese concept of Tianxia (‘all under heaven’) will be of great help. Tianxia, roughly defined, was a political system of voluntary deference to the Chinese imperial throne by neighbouring states. This deference would guarantee economic, social, and political stability for participants in the system, as well as cultural exchange. Tianxia can, in a certain sense, be considered an ancient form of soft power. China today wishes to reinvent this ancient practice to solidify its place in the world. Numerous economic initiatives, such as the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), as well as China’s significant investments in Africa and other developing countries, serve to bring these states into China’s ever-expanding sphere of global influence. Further on, regarding political values, China is relentless in insisting that every nation has the right to interpret common human norms and rights in its own way. Emblematic of this approach is China’s Global Civilization Initiative (GCI), which seeks to establish a multipolar world. GCI is heavily based on pluralism and diversity as guarantors of global harmony. Remarkably liberal concepts.

BRI and GCI are just a few of the initiatives taken by China, but they reveal a lot. By pursuing them, China is ensuring development, interconnectedness, economic equality, global trade, diversity of thought, and pluralism of cultures, all of which are among the most important liberal tenets. With these, effectively liberal, policies, China is actively challenging Western hegemony by using the latter’s own ideology against it. It is deeply embarrassing for the West when it starts opposing those same policies by China, despite them being liberal.

There is an important point to be highlighted before any further discussion. China is by no means a liberal country - that is not what I am arguing here. Rather, I wish to highlight the lack of true liberalism anywhere, as the West has not delivered on its liberal promises, as it continually starts wars and allies itself with authoritarian regimes. China is by no sensible means better, as she is just using liberal talking points to mask her own global agenda, which seeks to uproot the current global configuration for her own gain. We will not gain a liberal utopia if we take China’s actions at face value. Nor will the same happen with the current politics of the collective West and its gradual estrangement from authentic liberalism. Liberalism appears to only exist on paper at this point. Liberal nations opposing liberal acts by an illiberal country point to the crisis of liberalism itself and announce the emergence of absurdism as the hegemonic ideology. The deeper implications of China’s flirt with liberal politics and the West’s ‘affair’ with illiberalism highlight something that should be common sense by now: the ruling ideology serves only to justify the authority of those in power. The ruling ideology keeps reinventing itself and changes forms according to the needs of the political elite, all to ensure that the elite’s actions are always justified and never wrong, and in fact guided by ‘virtuous’ and ‘moral’ reasoning, supplied by the dominant ideology, which is in fact under the control of elites. Ideologies lose their original character and spirit in this unholy process. October 1st, 1949, might just become the date by which we measure years since the fall of liberalism.

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