X-ray of 2025: The Global Fire and the Geopolitics of the Abyss

Global positioning - Depositphotos

Gustavo de Arístegui

02 de enero de 2026 (12:15 h.)

A poorly governed world: The crisis of the ‘Adult in the Room’

The planet has had the misfortune of being ruled by a succession of political leaders who are fanatical, bloodthirsty, geopolitically short-sighted and incompetent, managing structural crises with the reflexes of a permanent election campaign. Not since the end of the Second World War has there been such a wide gap between the complexity of the challenges and the intellectual and moral poverty of many of those who make decisions.

The reassuring narrative that the world remains in the hands of ‘adults in the room’ is now unsustainable. We have witnessed how diplomatic technocracy, obsessed with process rather than outcome, has been systematically overtaken by the brutality of realpolitik.

The West's accumulated mistakes – in the Middle East, in NATO's ill-advised enlargement and its questioning by the US, as well as in the management of relations with China and Russia – have resulted in a still partial but very significant rapprochement between Beijing and Moscow, which could become almost structural allies in the next 5 to 10 years if nothing changes.

This convergence is not born of mutual affection, but of shared resentment and cold strategic calculation. Moscow brings a willingness to take risks, massive energy resources and recent bloody military experience; Beijing adds industrial muscle, financing and diplomatic cover in international forums.

The two already cooperate in critical areas such as Arctic routes, strategic infrastructure and sensitive dual-use technologies. This is not a romantic alliance, but a marriage of convenience between a wounded revisionist power seeking to destroy the current order and another aspiring to rewrite the rules of the global game to its own benefit.

China: The real disturbing giant and naval hegemony

The world still tends to view Russia through the lens of the Cold War, when the real giant of the 21st century is China. Beijing is not a ‘demographic giant without economic muscle,’ but an expanding military and technological power with growing force projection capabilities and a long-term strategic vision that transcends its specific leaders.

China's military capabilities are extraordinary, both conventional and nuclear, naval, space and hypersonic. China launches as many warships each year as the entire French navy and has multiplied its investments in anti-ship missiles, area air defence and electronic warfare, designed specifically to hinder US forces' access to its perimeter.

The naval industrial gap: An existential warning for the West

The most chilling fact, and perhaps the least understood by the anaesthetised Western public, is the abysmal disparity in shipbuilding capacity. According to US naval intelligence data, China has a shipbuilding capacity 232 times greater than that of the United States. In 2024, while Chinese shipyards delivered more than 1,000 commercial vessels, the US industry produced just eight.

This asymmetry is not a mere statistical curiosity; it is the basis of Beijing's ‘Military-Civil Fusion’ doctrine. Its shipyards are dual-use facilities that allow for mass production in peacetime and, more critically, a capacity for repairing combat damage that the West simply cannot match. In a protracted naval conflict in the Pacific, the ability to replenish and repair ships will be more decisive than the initial technological sophistication of the fleet.

Military history teaches us that, beyond a certain point, quantity has a quality of its own. The United States, with an atrophied industrial base and a chronic shortage of skilled labour, faces almost insurmountable obstacles to closing this gap in the next decade.

The South China Sea: Laboratory for the next war

China's frictions, tensions, skirmishes and clashes with its neighbours are multiplying: the Philippines, Taiwan, Thailand, Singapore, Vietnam, Australia, New Zealand and, increasingly, Japan live in daily contact with pressure from Chinese ships, aircraft and coastguards. The construction of artificial islands in the South China Sea has intensified in recent years, accompanied by airstrips, radars, ports and missile systems that transform reefs into veritable unsinkable static aircraft carriers.

China's strategy has been perfectly planned and executed for years: it is about controlling the most sensitive maritime routes on the planet and the raw materials on which its growth depends, consolidating a quasi-monopoly on rare earths — about 80% of world production and 90% of refining — which are essential for electronics, defence and the energy transition. Its obsession with controlling the ‘bottlenecks’ of global trade is evident: the Strait of Malacca is its true vulnerability and, at the same time, the epicentre of its deployment; but it does not forget the Taiwan Strait, the Bab el-Mandeb Strait, the Panama Canal or the new Arctic routes it is developing in close collaboration with Russia.

Taiwan 2026: From landing to quarantine

In this theatre of operations, 2026 is shaping up not necessarily as the year of the full-scale amphibious invasion — an extremely risky operation that could go wrong in a thousand ways — but as the year of ‘quarantine’ or blockade. War games conducted by think tanks such as the Centre for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) have extensively modelled a Chinese amphibious invasion in 2026, yielding grim results: although Taiwan could survive as an autonomous entity in most scenarios, the cost would be the absolute devastation of the island and massive losses for the United States and Japan, including dozens of capital ships and hundreds of fifth-generation fighter jets.

However, the most insidious and likely scenario for 2026 is a naval and air blockade. China has repeatedly rehearsed this manoeuvre since 2022, perfecting its execution with each iteration of its ‘Joint Sword’ exercises. A blockade is not immediate open warfare; it is a slow but lethal economic and energy strangulation. Taiwan, an island poor in natural resources, is vitally dependent on energy imports for its survival.

An effective Chinese blockade would bring Taipei to its knees and force Washington to make the impossible decision to be the first to fire to break the siege, shifting the burden of nuclear escalation to the White House. China's strategy seeks to win without fighting, controlling vital flows and leveraging its local dominance and A2/AD (Anti-Access/Area Denial) missile network to deter any external intervention.

Ukraine and Russia: Long war, weary powers

In Ukraine, 2026 is shaping up to be the year of ‘slow-motion’ war: few changes in the lines on the map, but constant intensity of attacks on critical infrastructure, cities and economic nerve centres. Moscow is betting on wearing down Kiev's resilience and the patience of its allies, while Ukraine is confident it can maintain enough Western support to continue resisting.

Russia's image as the world's second power is sustained only by its nuclear arsenal; in terms of GDP, its economy ranks between that of Spain and Italy, a structural weakness that limits its ability to project prolonged power. This combination of brute military force and economic fragility fuels risky behaviour: enough muscle to destabilise, insufficient capacity to build an alternative order.

The logic of attrition and the biological clock of war

Russia has transformed the conflict into a war of industrial attrition, where victory is measured not in square kilometres captured, but in the rate of destruction of the enemy's resources. However, this calculation has an expiry date. Military analysts warn that, at current rates of attrition, the recoverable equipment from the vast Soviet warehouses—tanks, artillery, armoured vehicles—could be depleted by the end of 2026 or early 2027. This presents Putin with a rapidly closing window of opportunity, which could encourage a desperate hybrid escalation before his conventional war machine begins to grind to a halt due to a lack of metal.

On the other hand, Ukraine faces its own demographic and economic winter. The systematic destruction of its energy network seeks to make life unviable in urban centres, causing new waves of refugees that strain the political seams of the European Union. Kiev needs not only weapons, but also a guarantee of economic survival that only the West can provide, and which is increasingly being questioned by populist sectors in Europe and the United States.

The European response: The ‘ReArm Europe’ plan

Faced with evidence that the US security umbrella could have holes in a second Trump administration, Europe is beginning to wake up from its strategic slumber, albeit at an exasperatingly slow pace. The ‘ReArm Europe’ plan, hotly debated in the corridors of Brussels, seeks to mobilise up to €800 billion for defence through a combination of fiscal flexibility and new joint debt instruments.

It is not just a question of spending more, but of spending better and together, overcoming the fragmentation of a defence market where each nation jealously protects its inefficient national champions.

The European Commission is proposing measures that would have been considered financial heresy only a few years ago, such as activating escape clauses in the Stability Pact to allow military spending without deficit penalties.

However, the internal political battle is fierce: the ‘frugal’ countries of the north are resisting the issuance of joint debt for defence, while the eastern states are demanding immediate and massive investment on the border with Russia.

Diffuse warfare: Cyberspace, manipulation and submarine vulnerability

Beyond the visible fronts, 2026 will be the year of diffuse warfare. Extraordinary capabilities for cyberattacks, information manipulation and hybrid warfare have become common tools for states and non-state actors, who combine digital sabotage, disinformation campaigns and economic pressure to weaken their adversaries without formally crossing the threshold of declared war.

Critical infrastructure—submarine cables, power grids, financial systems, satellites—are increasingly exposed targets because they are easier to attack than to defend. Any successful strike can paralyse entire regions, disrupt supply chains and destabilise governments without a single shot being fired at the border.

The battle of the seabed

More than 95% of the world's internet and data traffic travels through a vulnerable network of fibre optic cables lying on the ocean floor. These arteries of globalisation, which carry trillions of dollars in financial transactions every day, are alarmingly unprotected. Russia has stepped up the activity of its ‘shadow’ fleet and specialised vessels such as the Yantar, designed to operate at great depths and manipulate or cut these vital infrastructures.

Incidents of cable cuts in the Baltic and North Atlantic are no longer technical anomalies but have become a pattern of strategic signalling: Moscow is demonstrating that it has the capacity to leave Europe in the dark and disconnected without the need for a land invasion. NATO's response has been to increase maritime patrols, but the vastness of the ocean and the difficulty of immediate legal attribution make this an extremely difficult flank to protect.

Added to this is the war in the electromagnetic spectrum. GPS signal jamming has become endemic on the Alliance's eastern flank, affecting everything from civil aviation to maritime logistics. Recent incidents, such as the loss of signal on flights carrying senior European dignitaries near Kaliningrad, are clear warnings that European airspace is already an active battlefield in the grey zone.

Gaza, the West Bank and the moral fracture of the West

In the Middle East, the conflict between Israel and the Palestinians will continue to set the moral and political tone of the international system in 2026. Gaza risks becoming mired in a combination of mass destruction, humanitarian crisis and political deadlock, while the West Bank slides towards sustained violence due to the expansion of settlements and the erosion of the Palestinian Authority.

The deepest fracture occurs at the level of legitimacy: Western discourse on international law and human rights loses credibility every day that different metrics are applied to different victims. This double standard fuels anti-Western narratives from the Sahel to Asia and reinforces the idea that the rules of the game are negotiable for those with sufficient strength. This loss of moral authority is an incalculable geopolitical gift to Russia and China, which exploit the narrative of ‘Western hypocrisy’ to win supporters in the so-called Global South.

The ‘Day After’ plan and the shadow of Iran

The Trump administration's plan for the ‘day after’ in Gaza, which envisages a stabilisation force composed of troops from Muslim countries (with Pakistan in a prominent role), is a bold but extraordinarily risky realpolitik gamble. It seeks to neutralise Tehran's narrative of ‘crusader occupation’, but jeopardises the internal stability of allied regimes facing fierce Islamist opposition on their own streets.

At the same time, the rivalry between Iran and the axis formed by Israel and several Arab partners means that every incident in Syria, Iraq or Lebanon could potentially spark a major escalation. Far from stopping, Tehran has rebuilt its ballistic missile programme with external help, proposing a strategy of ‘deterrence by volume’ designed to overwhelm Israeli and US missile defences. Iran's nuclear threshold remains the ultimate red line, one that, if crossed, would irrevocably alter regional security.

The United States and Trump's harsh prudence

Donald Trump's second presidency has not brought about the cataclysm that many predicted, but it has accelerated an uncomfortable transformation of the role of the United States. His 2025 National Security Strategy concentrates resources on a few vital interests — avoiding major war, containing costs, reordering alliances — and demands that Europeans and Asians take on more responsibility for their own defence.

Washington's foreign policy combines prudent containment and rhetorical brutalism: it seeks to avoid new high-intensity conflicts, has sponsored mediation or de-escalation efforts in Ukraine and Gaza, and is closely monitoring the Indo-Pakistani rivalry, where the risk of terrorist attacks and conventional escalation is once again featured in risk reports. But it does so in harsh ways: tariff pressures, aid cuts, public warnings to partners considered unreliable, and a markedly transactional view of security commitments.

Rather than adventurism, this is a diplomacy of quid pro quo that puts a price on almost everything—from military bases to the nuclear umbrella—and weakens multilateral conflict prevention mechanisms. The world is becoming accustomed to global stability depending on cold calculations of interests in the White House and the ability of allies and rivals to interpret whether a threat is theatre for domestic consumption or a real red line.

Africa and Latin America: The burning peripheries

Africa continues to be the continent with the most active wars and severe humanitarian crises. Sudan, the Sahel, eastern Congo, parts of Somalia and Ethiopia are among the scenarios most at risk of escalation in 2026, in a cocktail of coups, elite struggles, the presence of jihadist groups and competition between external powers.

In the Sahel, the withdrawal of French and American troops has left a security vacuum that has been filled, opportunistically and predatory, by Russia (through the Africa Corps, Wagner's successor) and by expanding jihadist groups (JNIM and Islamic State). Countries such as Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger are sliding dangerously towards the status of failed states, governed by military juntas that have mortgaged their sovereignty to Moscow in exchange for security that is not forthcoming, while terrorism is spreading to the coastal states of the Gulf of Guinea.

Latin America: The Monroe Doctrine reloaded

In Latin America, no interstate wars are expected, but there is a worrying militarisation of domestic politics. Governments of different political persuasions are turning to the armed forces to manage citizen security, borders and social conflicts, blurring the line between external defence and public order. The reform of the National Guard in Mexico and the declaration of ‘internal armed conflict’ in Ecuador are symptoms of states overwhelmed by the firepower and financial power of transnational cartels.

The Trump administration has responded with what we might call a ‘Monroe Doctrine on steroids.’ The designation of the cartels and the Venezuelan regime as Foreign Terrorist Organisations (FTOs) and the imposition of selective naval blockades are signs that, for Washington, the security of the hemisphere is a domestic issue to be managed with an iron fist.

Venezuela, consolidated as a narco-state under the umbrella of alliances with Russia and Iran, becomes the epicentre of friction, with the United States willing to financially strangle the Maduro regime, even at the risk of destabilising the oil market.

Economic Outlook 2026: Fragmentation and Resilience

Economically, 2026 will be the year when geopolitical fragmentation finally translates into balance sheets. The era of frictionless global free trade is dead; welcome to the era of ‘friend-shoring’ and strategic barriers.

Despite the headwinds of trade wars and tariffs, the global economy is showing surprising, albeit uneven, resilience. Commodity prices, especially energy and food, are expected to continue their downward or moderating trend in 2026, offering some respite from global inflation. The World Bank projects that commodity prices will fall to six-year lows, driven by an oil surplus that could exceed 2020 highs. This oil glut is bad news for petro-states such as Russia and Iran, reducing their room for manoeuvre, but a boon for Western importers and consumers.

However, this price stability coexists with radical uncertainty in supply chains. Companies must navigate a minefield of sanctions, export controls and transport risks. Investment in artificial intelligence remains the great driver of hope for productivity, although there are growing voices warning of a possible bubble if tangible benefits do not begin to materialise soon in corporate balance sheets.

2026: The year of cumulative costs

The world enters 2026 with too many fires half extinguished, a limited number of firefighters and an exhausted public. The danger is no longer just the ‘great war’ that everyone fears, but the sum of medium-sized conflicts, humanitarian crises, energy shocks and waves of migration that erode democracies, fuel extremism and normalise the idea that permanent war is the background landscape.

Preventing the year from becoming the trigger for a major catastrophe requires something that is in short supply today: political leadership willing to bear short-term costs to prevent long-term disasters, investment in patient diplomacy, and the reconstruction of minimum standards of restraint. It is not a question of resigning ourselves to managing the fire, but of deciding whether we accept living in a world where war is routine or whether, for the first time in a long time, we begin to treat it as an intolerable anomaly. History does not forgive those who ignore its warnings, and 2025 has left us with too many to feign surprise when the fire comes.