A Geopolitical Essay

PART V – FROM TODAY TO TOMORROW

Conflicts in Progress

Hegemonic transition is not just an abstract process; it is visible in open conflicts around the world. If Part IV of this essay showed the gradual decline of America’s ability to shape the global order with shared rules, Part V highlights the moment when the fracture becomes clear. Since 2008, globalization has ceased to be the steady engine of universal efficiency that once promised prosperity for all. It has shifted into a selective mechanism — slower and more expensive — focused on ensuring resilience and security rather than maximizing productivity. Flows have decreased, supply chains have shortened, and barriers have been removed.

This transformation does not only happen in multinational boardrooms or through laws passed by parliaments. It occurs wherever authority weakens, powers clash, and the gears of global trade grind to a halt: Ukraine, the Levant, the Sahel, the Horn of Africa, and the South China Sea. Along these fractured lines, the world is reshaping its power structures. Here, the distinction made by the Italian Geopolitical Journal Limes between Ordoland — stable and regulated areas — and Chaosland — regions of increasing chaos — is more than just a metaphor: it becomes the geographic map of our era, a living atlas where unstable zones cause migratory shocks, food crises, rising energy prices, and waves of terrorism that penetrate deep into the system’s stable centers.

Chaosland Expanding: Failed States and Endless Wars

After the Cold War, many analysts imagined a gradual pacification of the world. Reality has proven that wrong: the “arc of instability” not only persists but has grown wider. Today, it stretches like a belt from Central America to the Sahel, from the Maghreb to the Levant, across Central Asia and parts of the Indo-Pacific. Numerous wars have been fought here, often overlooked but crucial for shaping the future global order.

Countries that were once cohesive, even under authoritarian rule, have fractured into regions of ongoing conflict: Libya and Syria serve as prime examples, functioning as testing grounds for hybrid warfare and external interventions. In the Sahel, repeated coups, jihadist uprisings, and financial crises have eroded any sense of stable governance. Even Latin America, although not fitting neatly into the usual chaos narrative, faces pervasive violence linked to criminal economies and weak institutions: drug wars in Mexico and Central America, Venezuela’s economic and social collapse, and the destabilization of Amazonian borders in Brazil.

The security shields of major powers have weakened or only occasionally intervene effectively. Washington continues to defend key strategic locations — the Persian Gulf, the Strait of Hormuz, and the South China Sea — but its actions are now more selective and influenced by domestic politics. France, Turkey, China, Russia, and Gulf monarchies all try to fill these gaps with different, often conflicting, approaches. However, this often leads to increased instability, marked by intensified proxy conflicts, the rise of predatory economies, and reliance on proxy wars, which create centrifugal forces that worsen insecurity and drive mass migration.

This spread of Chaosland isn’t just a series of local crises. It’s a systemic problem: every collapsing state creates opportunities for trafficking and interconnected criminal networks; each civil war serves as a training ground for transnational actors; every famine leads to political instability and migration flows that spill into neighboring regions. This forms a new landscape of disorder, nonlinear and uncontrollable, echoing across thousands of miles. Some regions carry more weight because they reshape regional dynamics and global standards: the most significant is Europe, especially Ukraine.

The War in Ukraine: The Front Line of European Order

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 reintroduced large-scale conventional warfare to Europe, along with a strategic paradigm many believed was outdated. The issue at hand is not only Kyiv’s sovereignty but also the fundamental principle of the European order: the inviolability of borders and the right to choose alliances, opposing Russia’s claim to a sphere of influence in the post-Soviet space. For the Kremlin, the survival of an independent Ukraine aligned with the West poses an existential threat; for Europe and Washington, its fall would mean a return to buffer zones and “Finlandizations.”

The war definitively ended the long period of ambiguity after 1991, when efforts to integrate Moscow into a cooperative security framework collapsed due to mutual mistrust, NATO expansion, and Russia’s traumas of the 1990s. In 2015, after Crimea’s annexation and the conflict in Donbas, the Minsk Accords stalled but never fully resolved the conflict. By 2022, the illusion of compromise was shattered, forcing confrontation.

Moscow’s initial gamble — an instant war to oust Kyiv’s government — failed. What followed was a war of attrition with increasing technological sophistication. After the failed attack on the capital and retreat from the north, the conflict shifted to a mix of mass artillery, attack drones, electronic warfare, and trench warfare, with minimal territorial gains and enormous human losses. The technological aspect has transformed the operational approach: swarms of inexpensive UAVs and FPVs democratized reconnaissance and precision strikes, compressing decision-making timelines; SIGINT and EW capabilities made every movement visible, shrinking the “informational space” of the battlefield.

The result is an industrial war. The true measure of power lies in 152/155 MM shells, drones, tactical missiles, and the ability to replenish systems. Western economies found that their stockpiles were limited and production lines too slow to sustain a long-term conflict. Defense think tanks, from RAND to CSIS, simulated scenarios where arsenals would run out within weeks if fighting intensified. The response has been targeted rearmament: plans to increase munitions production, joint EU procurement agreements, and new defense funds.

Geopolitically, the war has transformed NATO and the EU. The Alliance expanded to Finland and Sweden, strengthening forward deterrence and coordinating plans, postures, and logistics across the eastern flank. The EU took unprecedented steps, including co-financing arms deliveries, launching joint programs for munitions and air defense, and quickly redesigning its energy system to reduce Russia’s influence over its gas supply. Europe’s structure was rebuilt under U.S. leadership, but within a framework that compels European partners to invest in defense-industrial independence, common standards, and integrated military supply chains. It’s a selective militarization, born from the awareness that credible deterrence requires not only platforms but, above all, flows: munitions, maintenance, support, and substitutability. A step toward a still-incomplete strategic autonomy, but already translating into tangible capabilities.

Russia, meanwhile, has begun a wartime economy. After partial mobilization, the Kremlin reorganized industrial supply chains and sourced dual-use materials, components from third countries, and integrated supplies of drones and munitions from allies like Iran and North Korea. Extensive use of missiles and drones against Ukraine’s energy infrastructure aims to weaken the country’s economic and social resilience, shifting costs onto the enemy’s home front. Submarine warfare and threats to Black Sea routes have led to a reassessment of regional maritime security, causing ripple effects on insurance, risk premiums, and alternative shipping routes. The nuclear dimension has reemerged as a last-resort deterrent: suspension of arms control treaties, threshold rhetoric, and deployments in Belarus marked a red line, yet high levels of uncertainty over escalation remain.

The war’s systemic effects have strengthened bloc logic and accelerated ‘weaponized interdependence.’ Energy, fertilizers, and grain — already interconnected — have become tools for exerting pressure. The Black Sea Grain Initiative, Danube corridors, port security, and power grids have become security concerns. Western actions — including financial sanctions, tech export restrictions, oil price caps, and partial SWIFT exclusions — show how finance and payment systems have become geopolitical weapons, turning financial dominance into coercive tools. The Global South, facing this polarization, often adopted a non-aligned and opportunistic approach: buying discounted energy, avoiding automatic alignments, and maximizing bargaining leverage. This tactical flexibility signals a transition — not a replay of the Cold War — but the creation of a multipolar world where middle economies seek margins and positional rents.

The Ukrainian war also functions as a testing ground for strategies. The West is experimenting with “scalable deterrence,” including time-sensitive deliveries, training, and intelligence support, without deploying troops directly, along with financial aid tied to institutional reforms. Russia’s hybrid approach — using conventional forces, cyber attacks, and informational tactics — is testing Western tolerance for pain and Ukrainian resilience. In this context, timing is critical: victory depends not only on territorial gains but also on maintaining supply chains, rebuilding forces and systems, and boosting internal consensus. Regardless of territorial advances, the war has created a new Iron Curtain, shattered Europe’s illusion that markets could erase geography, and revived the idea of “strategic autonomy” focused on production, stockpiles, redundancies, and resilience.

The outlook still suggests a prolonged war, characterized by phases of attrition and intermittent operations, with sporadic negotiations tied to battlefield shifts, election cycles, ammunition supplies, and deterrence strategies. It is a war that will continue to influence Europe’s rearmament efforts, transatlantic relations, nuclear policies, and energy and food supply chains. Most importantly, it is changing how countries perceive interdependence: no longer as a peace guarantee, but as a factor to be secured, exploited, and feared.

The Greater Middle East: The Global Risk Multiplier

If Ukraine is the frontline of the European order, the Greater Middle East — stretching from the Maghreb to the Iranian plateau and reaching as far as Pakistan — remains the epicenter of global systemic friction. It is a crossroads where energy, religion, geopolitics, and symbols of identity intersect, creating a ripple effect that influences markets, maritime routes, and global public opinion.

Recent history has fractured the state continuum established in the twentieth century. The Arab Spring undermined regime legitimacy without creating stable alternatives; external interventions — from Iraq in 2003 to Libya in 2011 — disrupted balances without restoring them; jihadism took advantage of power vacuums to entrench itself as both criminal and identity-based governance. Syria, Libya, and Yemen serve as testing grounds for state collapse; Iraq and Lebanon exemplify the crisis of consociational systems; Egypt shows that authoritarian restoration only leads to temporary truces.

Syria: a metastable equilibrium

Since the Arab Spring, Syria has experienced a transformation, emerging as a mosaic of influence zones after more than a decade of conflict. The fall of Assad’s regime, once supported by Moscow and Tehran, has resulted in fractured sovereignties but still heavily depends on external support, mainly from Turkey and the U.S.

Turkey remains a key player: it wields influence over large areas in the north and aims to shape the reform process to prevent a Syria hostile to its interests, especially regarding Kurdish ambitions. The United States, for its part, maintains a presence and support in the Kurdish northeast, seeking to contain the resurgence of extremism and to secure its influence over critical energy infrastructure. Russia and Iran, meanwhile, have partially lost direct influence but still remain significant actors. Russia, although forced to reduce some of its forces — mainly due to the war in Ukraine — retains coastal bases that serve as both its Mediterranean platform and channels for diplomatic mediation. Iran, for its part, works to preserve territorial continuity through the logistical corridor to the Levant, supported by Shiite militias and Hezbollah.

The transitional government, engaged in reforms and dialogue, is far from controlling the territory or monopolizing violence. The country is riddled with rebellions and local uprisings involving multiple actors: Druze militias, former regime loyalists, local armed groups, and Bedouin tribes.

Assad’s loyalists, regrouped after the fall of the regime, wage a guerrilla war against the transitional government forces, particularly along the coastal strip and in Latakia, stronghold of the Alawite community. In the south, in the provinces of Suwayda and Daraa, uprisings have erupted among the Druze, tribal, and local communities, challenging central authority and demanding greater autonomy or local power. The Islamic State (ISIS/Daesh) has not been eradicated: it remains active with sporadic attacks in the south and in desert areas, sustaining its insurgent strategy. In the northwest, an enclave survives under the control of opposition factions and jihadist groups; in the northeast, the Kurdish-Arab administration endures with U.S. air support, in constant friction with Ankara. Israel, finally, maintains control of the Golan Heights, projecting its presence up to the gates of Damascus.

This creates a fragile balance: no stakeholder has the strength or interest to rebuild the state, and all primarily seek to prevent rivals from gaining an irreversible strategic advantage.

Libya: a managed conflict

The fall of Muammar Gaddafi in 2011, driven by an internal uprising supported militarily by NATO, dismantled an authoritarian regime that, despite its brutality, had maintained some territorial cohesion. Gaddafi’s Libya was a patchwork of tribes and local groups governed through force, co-option, and the distribution of oil rents. With the removal of the charismatic and repressive raʾīs, what was left was a void: no solid state institutions, no unified military, and no independent bureaucracy. Libya thus entered a phase of “Somalization”: the formal state existed only on paper, while militias, clans, and city-states held control on the ground.

Since 2014, the division has created two opposing sides. In the west, the Government of National Accord (GNA), based in Tripoli, is recognized by the UN and supported by Turkey and Qatar. In the east, the Tobruk parliament and General Khalifa Haftar’s Libyan National Army (LNA), backed by Egypt, the UAE, France, and later Russia, which sent Wagner Group mercenaries. The divide is not only geographic but also ideological: in Tripoli, Islamist forces are dominant; in Benghazi and Cyrenaica, Haftar’s security narrative prevails, with him portraying himself as the strongman fighting jihadists and unruly militias. In practice, neither side has ever truly represented all of Libya; each has had limited control, relying on shifting alliances with local militias that prioritized securing rents and territory over building a unified state.

Libya became a proxy battlefield where regional and global powers tested strategies and cemented alliances. Turkey defended Tripoli by deploying drones and military advisers, successfully stopping Haftar’s 2019–2020 offensive and securing maritime concessions in the Eastern Mediterranean. Russia and the UAE armed and funded the east, turning Cyrenaica into a pro-Russian stronghold and gaining bases and leverage over oil exports. Italy — having ignored Tripoli’s plea for help — sought to maintain a privileged role as a former colonial power and energy partner of ENI, but had to compete with French efforts, as Paris backed Haftar to expand its influence in the Sahel. The United States wavered between disengagement and limited strikes against ISIS-linked jihadist groups, never fully committing to genuine political reconstruction.

Along with oil, other trades thrived in Libya: weapons, migrants, and drugs. Libya’s coast became the main departure point for migration routes to Europe, giving militias extra bargaining power against Rome and Brussels.

Yemen: the forgotten front

The war in Yemen originates from deep-seated historical and political divisions. After North and South unified in 1990, the country stayed divided by economic disparities, tribal conflicts, and weak institutions. The 2011 Arab Spring protests forced President Saleh to step down, but the transition under his successor, Hadi, failed to bring stability. During this period, the Houthi movement emerged, mainly in the Zaydi-majority north, which in 2014 took control of Sana’a and compelled the government to move south.

In 2015, Saudi Arabia led a coalition to support the recognized government, turning Yemen into a regional battleground. Since then, the conflict has become deeply entrenched: the Houthis control much of the north and the capital, while in the south, the Southern Transitional Council (STC) has gained strength, calling for autonomy or outright independence. This internal division, along with economic collapse and a humanitarian crisis, has made Yemen one of the world’s most urgent emergencies.

Geopolitically, the war has become an indirect conflict between Saudi Arabia and Iran, and a key strategic chokepoint for global trade routes at Bab al-Mandeb. Recently, the Houthis have expanded the conflict into the Red Sea by attacking merchant ships, prompting responses from the United States, the United Kingdom, and Israel, which have conducted airstrikes and naval operations.

Houthi missile and drone attacks on ships in the Red Sea and Bab al-Mandeb emphasize the strategic importance of these waterways, not just for oil but for global shipping overall. Every increase in tension raises insurance costs, disrupts supply chains, and raises international prices.

Israel against Gaza, the West Bank, Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, Yemen, and Iran

The war in Gaza, reignited with violence in October 2023, has become the focus of a regional conflict that has placed Israel at the center of a true “seven-front” war. Hamas’s attack, with its military and symbolic aspects, prompted Israel to launch a large-scale offensive in the Gaza Strip, aimed at dismantling the Islamist movement’s structures and reshaping the territory’s political landscape. However, the imbalance of forces, the massive civilian casualties, and the systematic destruction of infrastructure turned Gaza into an unprecedented humanitarian crisis, drawing international condemnation and straining Israel’s relations with many of its traditional allies.

But the conflict isn’t confined to Gaza. Israel now faces a multi-layered war that goes far beyond Palestinian borders. First front: Gaza itself, the center of military operations. Second front: the West Bank, where tensions grow due to settlement expansion, clashes with Palestinians, and the weakening of the Palestinian Authority, which struggles to control radicalization. Third front: southern Lebanon, where Hezbollah conducts ongoing low-level attacks, maintaining constant pressure along the northern border. Fourth front: Syria, where Israel targets infrastructure and military convoys to prevent the consolidation of the transitional government. Fifth front: Iraq, where pro-Iranian Shia militias have launched drones and missiles at Israeli targets, broadening the scope of the challenge. Sixth front: Yemen, where the Houthis have declared war, attacking Red Sea routes and forcing the Israeli navy, along with U.S. and British forces, into direct defense. Seventh front: Iran, the strategic hub of this conflict network, coordinating and fueling the actions of its militias and regional allies, maintaining relentless pressure on Israel.

From a geopolitical perspective, Israel is surrounded by a series of asymmetric conflicts — each front alone too weak to defeat it, but collectively draining its resources and diplomatically isolating Jerusalem — while strengthening the narrative of anti-Israeli resistance across the Arab and Muslim worlds. The Abraham Accords started a process of normalization between Israel and the Gulf monarchies, but the ongoing 2023–2024 war cycle in Gaza and the escalations along the Lebanese, Syrian, and Iranian fronts have complicated matters. This has slowed Arab-Israeli convergence and forced Washington into a tough balancing act between supporting its ally and managing the risk of regional escalation.

Meanwhile, China has played roles as a mediator (in the Riyadh–Tehran rapprochement and, more recently, in the Riyadh–Islamabad rapprochement) and as an infrastructure builder. At the same time, the United States swings between easing its burden of responsibilities and selectively re-engaging. In the Middle East, weaponized interdependence is a daily fact: cheap drones and missiles are transforming air defense strategies; attacks on ports increase insurance costs; and the cyber realm completes the arsenal. Without infrastructure development (water, electricity, borders, police, courts), every ceasefire is just a pause between crises. And each Middle Eastern crisis echoes beyond the region, impacting energy prices, shipping routes, migration flows, and political divisions within Ordolandia.

Other regional actors

Turkey has built an independent profile: maintaining a military presence in Syria and Iraq against the PKK, participating in the Libyan conflict, and engaging in diplomacy that fluctuates between NATO and Russia. After the 2019 attacks on the Abqaiq oil facilities, Saudi Arabia changed its strategy, focusing on economic diversification and easing tensions with Tehran — mediated by China — up to its recent agreement with Pakistan. The UAE exhibits significant technological and financial influence across regions from East Africa to the Indian Ocean, while Egypt, facing economic and demographic challenges, vigorously defends its interests on the Nile, where Ethiopia’s GERD dam threatens to alter the region’s hydrogeography.

This section portrays the Greater Middle East not as a collection of local crises, but as a source of global instability that affects energy, maritime routes, and Western public opinion.

Sub-Saharan Africa: the new frontier of competition

Africa embodies both the promise and the nightmare of hegemonic change. The continent is home to some of the world’s most dynamic economies, a young and expanding population, and significant potential for urban growth and digital advancements. However, it also faces many fragile states, armed conflicts, and ongoing humanitarian crises.

The Sahel has become the center of a low-intensity yet highly resilient war, where jihadism, organized crime, and ethnic conflicts intersect. Coup d’états in Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger have ousted pro-Western governments and opened the door for a shift in geopolitical influence toward China and Russia. The Wagner Group — now rebranded under various names — has provided security in exchange for mining rights, transforming gold and uranium mines into strategic leverage tools. In the Horn of Africa, Ethiopia’s conflict, Somalia’s instability, and Nile River tensions form a triangle of unrest that affects Red Sea maritime routes and logistics projects, ultimately impacting those leading to the Indian Ocean. In Central Africa, conflicts in the Kivu region and Sudan demonstrate that governments can collapse while extractive economies continue to supply important raw materials — such as cobalt, coltan, and rare earths — that are essential for the green and digital transitions.

Major powers have stepped up their competition in Africa: China with the Belt and Road Initiative, Russia with mercenaries and discounted grain, and the West through partnership programs focused on resilient infrastructure and energy transition. The danger is that Africa becomes the main geoeconomic battleground of the 21st century, with local populations left as spectators or pawns in foreign strategies.

Indo-Pacific: the heart of the transition

If Europe is the stage for the crisis of the current order, the Indo-Pacific serves as the testing ground for the future world. Here, the center of global power is rooted: over 60% of the world’s GDP, the most advanced technological supply chains, and vital maritime routes. Here, established powers and rising ones clash along an arc from the Bay of Bengal to the Sea of Japan, with Taiwan and the South China Sea as key points. The Taiwan issue encompasses history, identity, international law, economy, and technology: a self-governing island, a mature democracy, and a key hub for global microelectronics, particularly advanced semiconductors. For Beijing, it is a vital part of the “national question” and Party legitimacy; for Washington and its allies, it is the ultimate test of deterrence credibility and the rules-based order.

China’s strategy combines military pressure, economic coercion, and political attrition. It involves aircraft and naval incursions into Taipei’s defense identification zone, exercises simulating blockades and precision strikes, constructing bases and runways on artificial islands in the South China Sea, and deploying a paramilitary coast guard and “gray-zone” maritime militia. These actions aim to undermine the status quo, test response thresholds, and familiarize the region with a nearly permanent armed presence. The A2/AD missile arsenal, which includes anti-ship and intermediate-range ballistic systems, creates a denial bubble designed to deter and overwhelm allied naval forces along with their air and missile defenses. Cyber and information domains further expand the challenge: attacks on critical infrastructure, targeted disinformation campaigns, and interference in the island’s political life and social cohesion.

The United States adapts by shifting postures and forming alliances. The pivot to Asia involves a network of partnerships: the QUAD with Japan, India, and Australia for political and maritime cooperation; AUKUS for submarine capabilities and advanced technology sharing; access and prepositioning agreements with the Philippines and Micronesia; and trilateral cooperation with Japan and South Korea on missiles, sensors, and supply chains. The Taiwan Relations Act and the doctrine of “strategic ambiguity” remain officially in effect. However, actions are increasingly moving toward “operational clarity”: strengthening defense arms supplies, training, interoperability, and the resilience of the island. Western doctrinal debates favor deterrence by denial, which involves making the island too difficult to conquer through investments in mines, long-range anti-ship missiles, mobile fire platforms, platform dispersion, C4ISR redundancy, infrastructure protection, and energy stockpiles.

The most likely crisis scenario isn’t an immediate amphibious invasion — an extremely complex and risky operation — but a gradual blockade: bans on merchant traffic, “sanitary” inspections, exercise zones overlapping commercial routes, cyberattacks, and selective threats to infrastructure, all tested by “demonstrative” missile salvos. Such a blockade, less overtly warlike than a landing, would deeply test Taipei’s resolve and its allies’ ability to respond, with immediate repercussions for the global economy. For Taiwan, TSMC is also a critical part of the global digital supply chain, providing advanced chips. The Western response — reshoring, friend-shoring, building fabs in the U.S., Japan, and Europe — reduces but does not eliminate the risk: Taiwan’s concentrated expertise and the advantages of its ecosystem cannot be quickly duplicated.

The South China Sea introduces another layer of complexity. China claims almost the entire area with the “nine-dash line,” which is disputed by ASEAN countries and is not recognized under international maritime law. The Paracel and Spratly Islands have been militarized with runways, radars, and missiles; China’s coast guard uses harassment tactics — ramming, water cannons, lasers — against Philippine and Vietnamese vessels; the U.S. and its European and Asian partners conduct freedom of navigation missions to affirm the principle of open straits. The rise in low-level incidents — near collisions, interference, and damage — shows how mutual deterrence operates on a razor’s edge in a zone through which a large share of global trade passes and where submarine cables crucial for data and finance are located.

U.S.-China rivalry has turned the South China Sea into a strategic chessboard. Beijing has militarized reefs and atolls, projecting air and naval power beyond the first island chain; Washington has responded with FONOPs, bilateral defense agreements, and the strengthening of alliances like QUAD and AUKUS. Australia has launched its nuclear-powered submarine program; Japan has revised its defense doctrine; India oscillates between cooperating with the West and protecting its strategic autonomy. Japan’s increased defense spending and the acquisition of “Counter-Strike” capabilities represent a historic shift, as do Australia’s undersea projection strategy and the renewed role of the Philippines in U.S. access plans. India, while maintaining autonomy, utilizes the QUAD to manage pressure in its maritime neighborhood and counter China’s presence in the Indian Ocean. South Korea, focused on the North Korean threat, is increasingly integrating its sensors and capabilities with Japan and the U.S., creating a unified information network over the Northwest Pacific. ASEAN, with diverse interests and dependencies, swings between economic engagement and security demands, while middle powers seek to maximize their influence, avoiding binary choices.

In this theater, miscalculation is the primary systemic risk. The “shadow game” between deterrence and provocation unfolds at very close ranges and rapid timelines, with chains of command needing to decide within minutes how to respond to aggressive moves or unclear radar signals. The presence of hypersonic weapons, the sensor overload, and the fragility of satellites and submarine cables introduce additional layers of uncertainty. Crisis management requires open communication channels, deconfliction protocols, and joint exercises to standardize responses; yet, the competition over standards — technological, legal, and operational — drives actors to test boundaries.

The final point is that Taiwan goes beyond a political and military issue. It serves as a rehearsal for global security, focusing on how to protect vital supply chains, secure routes and data, and combine deterrence with unity among interconnected economies. Even if open conflict is avoided, pressure will persist to duplicate supply chains, adopt incompatible standards, and politicize innovation. The Indo-Pacific will remain the arena where it is decided whether interdependence can be managed as a public good or if it will be permanently weaponized.

Taiwan remains a red line: its security is crucial not just for geopolitical stability but also for the global semiconductor supply chain. A conflict in the Strait would have severe impacts on the world economy, similar to a technological Great Depression. This is why deterrence is carefully calibrated: strengthening defenses without provoking war and developing industrial resilience plans in case of a naval blockade. Southeast Asia also plays a vital role: ASEAN countries, while avoiding direct alignment, compete to attract investments and shift supply chains from China. It creates a de facto multipolar landscape, offering these actors unprecedented flexibility.

From the battlefield to the scenarios

The map that emerges from this global survey is a mosaic of conflicts, collapses, and realignments that are not just random crises but are becoming laboratories for shaping the world. Ukraine has revived industrial warfare and blockades at the heart of Europe; the Middle East continues to heighten global risks; Africa has become the new battleground for major powers; and the Indo-Pacific is the region where 21st-century technological and maritime dominance will be decided.

All these regions share one common trait: they turn interdependence from a stabilizing factor into a strategic tool, transforming a guarantee of stability into a means of exerting pressure. It signals that the world is entering a phase where politics once again takes precedence over technology and security over mere efficiency. From this understanding, Part VI begins: an effort to explore potential paths of this transition and to outline scenarios where the same forces — geography, demography, technology, and geopolitical power — combine into different outcomes. The future isn’t determined yet, but its shape is already visible on today’s battlefields.