On July 4, two contrasting approaches to global affairs and governance surfaced nearly simultaneously at mega events. US President Donald Trump spoke at the 250th anniversary of the US, proclaiming that the United States is “the most extraordinary, most exceptional, most incredible nation ever to exist”, and declared that America’s “destiny is written by God”.
Chinese Vice-President Han Zheng’s global proposition was sharply different: peace cannot be built on any nation’s primacy, but on dialogue, development, justice, inclusive governance and shared prosperity. His core message was that “all countries require a peaceful and stable international environment for development” and that reforming global governance is now a shared necessity, not a Chinese slogan.
The Chinese speak beyond rhetoric. Their argument rests on lived domestic evidence with nearly 800 million people lifted out of extreme poverty over four decades. China’s external initiatives aim to promote Global South connectivity, presence, capacity and negotiating space. In Trump’s frame, greatness is national elevation: America “stronger, freer, richer, safer, and prouder than ever before”. In China’s frame, stability requires addressing discontent of individuals, societies and nation-states, because persistent exclusion becomes a crisis.
The crux of the current global debate among the two most influential states is: ‘exceptional power’ versus shared security; dominance versus development; ‘might is right’ versus the proposition, voiced at the Beijing forum, that lasting peace requires sovereign equality, multilateralism and people-centered development. The debate takes on critical significance against the backdrop of emerging trends in international relations. We continue to analyse global affairs through the familiar language of great powers, military alliances, deterrence and strategic competition. Yet these concepts, while still relevant, no longer adequately explain the forces shaping our increasingly unstable world. We are witnessing not merely a redistribution of power among states but a transformation in the very character of power itself.
This is why the growing importance of China should not be understood simply through the lens of economic expansion, military capability or geopolitical rivalry with the US. China’s significance lies in what its rise tells us about the changing structure of international relations and, more importantly, about the shortcomings of the existing international order.
The post-World War II order promised sovereign equality, peaceful coexistence, collective security and the dignity of all peoples. It sought to replace domination with cooperation and conflict with law. Yet over decades, the international community has too often failed to translate these principles into universal practice. The result has been widening disparities between powerful and weaker states, unequal application of international law and growing frustration among societies that increasingly feel excluded from the benefits of globalisation.
Significantly, the same contradiction exists within nations themselves. Economic growth has frequently coincided with widening inequality. Political participation has expanded without always producing political inclusion. Millions have acquired access to information without acquiring access to justice, opportunity or dignity. This is where conventional strategic thinking begins to fail. For centuries, instability emerged primarily from rivalry among governments. Today, instability is generated as much by discontent within societies as by competition between states. The boundaries separating domestic and international security are dissolving. Internal unrest quickly acquires international dimensions through cyber networks, migration, instantaneous digital communication, financial markets, terrorism, organised crime and environmental degradation.
Perhaps the most profound transformation of our age is one that receives remarkably little strategic attention: the democratisation of discontent. What distinguishes our era is not the existence of resentment but the unprecedented empowerment of those who experience it. Digital technology has fundamentally altered the relationship between power and the powerless. The internet, artificial intelligence, encrypted communications, social media platforms and inexpensive disruptive technologies have democratised expression. Individuals who once remained invisible now possess the ability to organise, mobilise, communicate and influence events across borders almost instantaneously.
Equally significant is the democratisation of disruption. Capabilities once monopolised by states are increasingly accessible to smaller groups and even individuals. Cyber operations, autonomous technologies, drone warfare, digital finance, information campaigns and sophisticated communication networks have dramatically reduced the gap between established power and disruptive capacity. This transformation applies equally within societies and across the community of nations. Communities long ignored by political elites possess new instruments to challenge authority. Smaller states, too, once marginalised in global decision-making, increasingly seek alternative partnerships and institutions through which to express their interests. The traditional hierarchy of influence is steadily giving way to a far more fluid and contested national and international environment: destabilisation.
Security can no longer be achieved merely through superior military capability or economic dominance. Stability increasingly depends upon whether grievances are acknowledged before they evolve into crises. Unattended injustice eventually produces instability. In the digital age, that process has accelerated exponentially. The central lesson emerging from our age is that no nation, however powerful, can indefinitely insulate itself from the consequences of instability elsewhere. The old assumption that disorder can be geographically contained or militarily managed is steadily collapsing. Pandemics, financial crises and climate change all ignore borders. In fact, insecurity has become globally networked.
The same logic applies within societies. Nations that neglect sections of their own populations eventually pay the price in polarisation, instability and declining social cohesion. The same principle governs relations among states. An international order that leaves entire regions feeling excluded, unheard or subjected to selective application of international law cannot expect enduring legitimacy.
Whether within a state or within the community of nations, exclusion accumulates consequences.
For decades, international relations largely treated domestic grievances and global governance as separate disciplines. They are no longer separable. A neglected village can influence global migration. A frustrated youth can challenge security at multiple levels. A cyber attack launched by a handful of individuals can disrupt financial systems thousands of kilometres away. An environmental disaster in one country can destabilise entire regions.
Hence, the ground realities of power calculations that have long dominated strategic calculations of strategic thinkers are changing. In fact, the very foundations of strategic prescription for collective well-being in a Hobbesian world rooted in the centuries-old concept of balance of power, indeed of balance of force, now stand challenged by the often disruptive agency acquired by the deprived, the marginalised, and the discounted. As power devolves, proliferation becomes fluid, with the state losing its monopoly on coercive force; traditional strategic concepts, such as the balance of power as a foundation for civilisational stability, require review.
New realities require new thought, a new strategic philosophy that acknowledges the imperative rather than conceding to the absolute strategic imperative of collective well-being. Maybe one of the paths away from fast-spreading disruption and instability is the balance of well-being.
Meanwhile, China’s significance does not lie simply in the size of its economy, the reach of its manufacturing base or the modernisation of its armed forces. History has witnessed the rise of major powers before. What makes the present moment different is that China’s ascent coincides with a period during which confidence in the existing international order has been steadily eroding.
It is against this backdrop that China’s diplomatic vocabulary has found resonance. Beijing repeatedly speaks of multilateralism, development, connectivity and a “community with a shared future for mankind”. The important question is why these ideas are receiving increasing attention across large parts of the developing world.
The world is searching for a more sustainable organising principle than perpetual confrontation. We are entering an era in which the greatest strategic failures will not necessarily arise from military miscalculation but from political imagination that remains trapped in yesterday’s assumptions.
The defining challenge before humanity is how to construct societies and an international system in which people and nations alike believe they have a meaningful stake. China appears to have understood this fact.
The writer is a foreign policy & international security expert. She tweets/posts @nasimzehra and can be reached at: [email protected]
