The Week That Shaped the World 29 August - 5 September 2025

1. The SCO Summit – Drafting the Blueprint of Tomorrow’s World

The Tianjin summit of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation looked less like a meeting, more like theatre. Ten members lined up — Beijing, Moscow, New Delhi, Tehran, the Central Asian cast, even Minsk. Add the extras — observers, dialogue partners, half a dozen organisations — and suddenly you realise this is no regional tea-club. It’s half the planet. Not the glamorous half, perhaps, but the one digging the mines, pumping the oil, and, increasingly, lending the money.

Contrary to Western belief, where we happily tell ourselves that Putin is a lonely outcast, his appearance in Tianjin carried the dignity of an emperor. Xi handed him China’s Friendship Medal — not a polite handshake, but a coronation, performed in front of half of humanity. And just along the row sat Kim Jong-un. Once mocked as “Rocket Man”, now nodding to the cameras as if chairing a Brussels committee. Except this time he was on horseback and wearing medals — metaphorically at least. His soldiers have picked up valuable battlefield experience in Russia’s Kursk region, and one suspects he will soon close the Korean question for good by unifying the peninsula under his banner. Strength and support he now has in surplus. Isolation? If that’s what we’re watching, then inclusion must be terrifying.

Then Beijing rolled out the parade. Tens of thousands in step, Chinese and Russians pounding the tarmac shoulder to shoulder. Commemoration, yes — but also choreography. A question written in jackboots: can NATO’s rainbow-briefing armies hold their ground against this kind of blunt arithmetic? No answer yet. The music played, the banners flew, the message lingered.

We in the West told ourselves we were the garden — trimmed, secure, a model for the weeds outside. But Tianjin and Beijing suggested otherwise. Perhaps the garden was always an illusion, held together by fertiliser and press releases. Outside the fence, the weeds have been busy — and grown into a forest.

And the finale? Moscow and Beijing, almost casually, musing about an alternative to the UN. They simply and rather fairly suggested that since the old UN cannot function, they will build their own — one that actually works. For Washington and Brussels, it was the sound of scaffolding cracking.

The SCO summit didn’t predict the future. It sketched the floorplan. While we, still convinced of our own landscaping, debate whether the blueprints even exist.

"History rarely sends out invitations. It just leaves the door ajar — and watches who dares to walk in."

2. Britain and Spain: The Post-Brexit Honeymoon Nobody Asked For

Brexit was meant to be a clean break. Bold, sovereign, a flag fluttering in the wind. Instead, nearly a decade on, we’re back to shaking hands with the neighbours and pretending it’s a breakthrough. On 3 September, Keir Starmer and Pedro Sánchez stood side by side, grinning like men who’d just solved Europe. What they actually signed was a modest deal on trade, migration, “shared interests.” The kind of thing Brussels does on a wet Tuesday and files under routine.

But Gibraltar was the stage prop, as always. In June we had the rehearsal — shorter queues at the border, fewer grim customs officers. Now the curtain rises: an official pact dressed up as progress. Westminster calls it historic. Madrid nods politely. Ordinary travellers will just notice whether the queue moves faster at the weekend. That’s the level we’re at — managing the traffic jam as if it were Versailles.

Then Sánchez did something unusual. He dropped the script. Standing next to Starmer, he called Israel’s actions in Gaza what they are — genocide. In Brussels, such words are considered dangerous, even impolite. Too raw. In Madrid, it was framed as leadership. In London, there was an awkward cough and a change of subject.

This is what passes for grand diplomacy now. Britain clutches at scraps to prove Brexit wasn’t an act of self-harm. Spain strikes heroic poses to feel relevant on the world stage. Both end up with a press release.

We used to imagine foreign policy as statesmen carving destiny. What we got this week was a photocall and the promise of fewer delays at Gibraltar. History hasn’t been written. It’s been laminated.

"Diplomacy today is just customer service with flags attached."

3. Africa’s Dirt: Suddenly a Strategic Asset

For decades, southern Africa’s earth was just that — dirt. Holes in the ground, men with pickaxes, and the occasional NGO report about exploitation. Now the same dirt is rebranded as “critical minerals” — niobium, manganese, cobalt — the vitamins of the green revolution. The West, once content to moralise from Geneva about child labour, now finds itself desperately calculating how many Teslas you can build without Congolese cobalt. Spoiler: not many.

The World Bank calls it opportunity. China calls it strategy. And Europe? Europe calls it Tuesday, still arguing about whether nuclear counts as clean. Meanwhile, South Africa, Botswana, and their neighbours are quietly discovering that in a world addicted to batteries, they hold the dealer’s cards. It’s not coffee, not oil, but the 21st-century equivalent — the stuff without which your net-zero dreams stay in PowerPoint.

But don’t be fooled into thinking this is some emancipation moment for Africa. The contracts are already being signed, and the logos on the helmets are as familiar as ever: Beijing, Washington, a sprinkling of Brussels. Africa provides the minerals; the profits, as always, trickle elsewhere.

What’s different is the bargaining power. Governments in the region can now name their price, and the West, green halo slipping, has to pay. Manganese for turbines, niobium for superconductors, cobalt for batteries — without them, your climate summit speeches are just hot air.

We in the West once dismissed Africa as a charity case. Today, it’s the hardware store for the future. The irony writes itself: the continent we tried to civilise is the one now civilising our energy addiction.

"History is full of turnarounds. Yesterday’s dirt is tomorrow’s destiny."

4. America’s Closet: Epstein’s Ghost and the Files That Refuse to Die

Transparency. Washington’s favourite word — until it isn’t. This week, a Republican-led committee dumped 33,000 Epstein files into the public domain. Thirty-three thousand. A warehouse of paper. Everyone pretends it’s about “truth.” Let’s be honest: it’s about theatre.

The Democrats muttered it was mostly old news. Perhaps. But the sheer volume makes the rot impossible to ignore. Politicians, businessmen, familiar names half-whispered for years — all suddenly back in print. Washington calls it disclosure. It feels more like exorcism, badly staged.

And then, conveniently, a distraction. A U.S. strike on a speedboat off Venezuela. Eleven alleged “narco-terrorists” gone in a puff of smoke. Efficient. Sanitised. Announced with the calm tone of a weather report. You don’t have to be cynical — though it helps — to notice the timing. Epstein’s ghost on the front page, a military action shoved just underneath. Crisis management, American style.

Meanwhile, the Supreme Court quietly restored an FTC commissioner against Trump’s will. A footnote, maybe. But in this White House soap opera every footnote is a jab — another reminder the system still bites back.

So what’s left? A dead financier still dictating headlines. A strike abroad passed off as law enforcement. A constitutional tug-of-war barely noticed. America insists the institutions are strong. The paperwork, the missiles, the legal skirmishes suggest fragility.

"In Washington, skeletons aren’t buried. They’re catalogued, leaked, and weaponised."

5. America’s Arsenal: Business, Politics, and the New Military Bazaar

The Pentagon once liked to pretend it was about honour, flags, and the defence of liberty. Now it looks increasingly like a bazaar — a place where contracts, lobbyists, and cabinet ministers jostle for space. This week the U.S. Commerce Secretary floated the idea of buying stakes in major defence contractors. Yes, you read that right: the state as shareholder in Boeing, Lockheed, the works. Beijing would call it “civil-military fusion.” Washington calls it “strategic investment.” Spot the difference.

Behind the jargon is a frenzy. Boeing is racing to finish its next-generation fighter — the F-47, a machine whispered about as if it already dominates skies it hasn’t yet flown in. A company called Vector, once obscure, now lands juicy contracts for autonomous warfare systems. And Space Command? It’s being uprooted and shipped to Alabama, the new Mecca for America’s military-industrial pilgrims.

The optics are telling. For decades, Americans mocked the Soviet model — centralised, state-directed, blending industry with politics. Today, the U.S. is quietly doing the same, only with better PowerPoints and bigger campaign donations.

Of course, it will all be sold to the public as “innovation” and “security.” The truth is blunter: the war economy has become America’s growth engine. And when the Commerce Secretary muses about government stakes, it signals not efficiency but desperation — a system that can’t keep the machine running without shoving taxpayers even deeper into the cockpit.

We like to think capitalism and democracy still dance separately. In reality, the two are welded together by contracts, lobbyists, and jets that may never fly in combat.

"America’s arsenal isn’t built on steel. It’s built on subsidies, slogans, and the quiet hope no one notices the overlap."

6. Europe’s Debt Hangover: Bonds Don’t Lie

So here we are again. Europe talking about fiscal prudence while the bond market quietly laughs. Yields on French and British paper have climbed to levels not seen in years. Translation: investors want more money for the privilege of lending to governments already up to their necks.

France looks like a student with too many credit cards. Pay one off, max another, hope the bank clerk doesn’t notice. Britain’s not much better — Labour keeps promising discipline while handing out pledges like free samples. The gilt market has stopped believing the sales pitch.

Stocks wobbled, naturally. Rising yields make borrowing pricier, and business hates pricier. But the real chill isn’t today’s cost — it’s déjà vu. Europe remembers 2010. One glance at climbing yields and everyone hears the old sirens of the euro crisis.

Officials mutter about “temporary pressures.” They always do. Markets know better. Bond traders don’t deal in optimism; they deal in fear. Right now the fear is simple: Europe is running up tabs it can’t hide behind PowerPoint slides forever.

We like to imagine ourselves as the grown-ups of global finance. Yet every few years the bond market taps us on the shoulder like an impatient landlord. The rent is due.

"Europe doesn’t default in drama. It defaults in drift — until the markets call time."

7. Stablecoins: America’s New Holy War in Finance

The United States has discovered a new monster under the bed: stablecoins. Harmless enough in theory — digital dollars glued to real ones. But Washington can’t resist turning molehills into moral panics. Enter the GENIUS Act, a name so self-congratulatory you know it hides a mess.

The rules sound simple: every stablecoin backed one-for-one, no interest payments, no tricks. A tidy, safe little cage. Except the fine print leaves a loophole big enough to drive a Wall Street bonus through. Platforms can still dress up “passive yields” as something else. The banks hate it. The crypto crowd loves it. The lawyers are already drafting yachts.

This isn’t about technology. It’s about turf. Banks spent a century convincing the public that money only counts when stamped with their logo. Now a handful of coders with bad haircuts threaten that monopoly. So Washington rides in, sword drawn, pretending to protect consumers while really protecting incumbents.

The irony? Stablecoins exist because trust in banks evaporated after 2008. People wanted digital cash that didn’t wobble when JPMorgan sneezed. Now the same system that caused the crisis wants to regulate its competitor out of relevance. Call it security if you like. It smells like cartel behaviour.

The fight is no longer about crypto bros versus regulators. It’s about who controls the plumbing of the financial system — and who gets to skim the rent off every transaction. One trillion dollars in stablecoins today, maybe double tomorrow. That’s not fintech. That’s empire-building.

"In America, innovation isn’t crushed by failure. It’s crushed by regulation — politely branded as protection."

8. Carbon Credits: Brazil Wants to Run the Till

Every COP needs a headline act. This time it’s Brazil — and no, not the football team. Brasília has decided to reinvent itself as the world’s green banker. A global carbon pricing scheme, one market to rule them all. Sounds noble enough. Until you squint and see the subtext: Brazil isn’t saving the planet. It’s running the till.

Europe’s been fiddling with carbon trading for years. Endless graphs, PowerPoint slides, and champagne receptions where ministers tell each other how responsible they are. Meanwhile, the smokestacks keep puffing away like it’s 1973. Nobody outside Brussels cares.

Brazil plays it differently. No technocratic waffle. Just the Amazon held up like a bargaining chip. You want trees standing? Pay us. You don’t? Well, chainsaws are cheaper. Crude? Yes. Honest? Painfully so.

The proposal has the usual window-dressing: carve-outs for poor countries, revenue streams from global trade. Call it solidarity, call it fairness. It’s a tax in green wrapping paper. Developed nations will mutter about “sovereignty” and then sign. Because no prime minister wants tomorrow’s headline to read: “Leader kills climate deal.”

And here’s the kicker. Brazil isn’t the supplicant anymore. It’s the dealer. The same country long treated as a backdrop — coffee, carnival, corruption — is now in a position to dictate the cost of pollution. Washington grumbles. Brussels frowns. Beijing pretends not to smirk. Everyone knows the game.

Meanwhile, the planet keeps warming. The Amazon doesn’t care about ledgers in Geneva. But Brazil’s treasury will.

"Carbon markets don’t clean the air. They just monetise guilt — and someone always walks away richer."

9. India Cuts Taxes, America Loses Face

Tariffs, the old American love affair. Washington slapped India, expecting the usual flinch. What it got instead was a grin and a knife. New Delhi cut taxes — hundreds of everyday goods suddenly cheaper. Electronics, clothes, pots and pans. A shopping list turned into foreign policy.

The message? Simple. If the U.S. wants a trade war, India will take the hit, feed its own market, and keep the wheels turning. No begging for exemptions, no diplomatic sob stories. Just cheaper stuff for a billion people and a middle finger for Washington.

Not everything got the discount treatment. Luxury toys — German cars, designer handbags, imported fizz — slapped with a fat 40% tax. Call it patriotism, call it theatre. Either way, it tells the rich: pay up, and tells America: your brands are collateral.

Modi couldn’t have timed it better. Festival season is coming. Voters see a leader who shrugs off U.S. pressure and hands them bargains. Nationalism with a receipt stapled to it. Business elites grumble, but they’ll survive. They always do.

And the West? Still clinging to the myth of “free trade” while rigging the table. India has stopped pretending. It’s playing the same dirty hand, but louder. For decades it was back office to globalisation — call centres, code monkeys, cheap textiles. Now it’s writing its own rules and sending the bill across the Atlantic.

"Tariffs used to be America’s trick. Now India’s doing it better — and with fireworks."

10. The Electro-Yuan: Beijing’s Quiet Middle Finger to the Dollar

While Washington ties itself in knots over tariffs and TikTok, Beijing’s been busy with something bigger. The electro-yuan. Sounds like a dodgy nightclub. It isn’t. It’s a payment system — slick, digital, wrapped as innovation — and it’s aimed squarely at the dollar.

Xi rolled it out at the SCO summit, smiling like a shopkeeper offering free samples. Central Asia — Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, the usual suspects — were nudged to give it a try. Small stuff, energy deals, trade settlements. But every contract not in dollars is another hairline crack in America’s plaster.

Nobody’s pretending the yuan takes over tomorrow. Nobody trusts Beijing’s books anyway. But trust isn’t the point. Choice is. And after years of dollar sanctions and Washington’s moral sermons, plenty of governments want an escape hatch. Xi is handing them one with a bow and a smirk.

The West will scoff. “Nobody will use it.” Right. That’s what they said about Huawei phones, Belt-and-Road loans, and half the other things we now quietly depend on. Mock it all you want — the point isn’t belief, it’s momentum. And Beijing’s got it.

We keep telling ourselves the dollar is eternal. That’s what every empire says, right up until someone pays for oil in another currency and nobody blinks.

"Currencies don’t fall with a bang. They leak away, one quiet transaction at a time."