Nepal Flood Disaster Exposes Cascading Threats In Himalayas – Analysis


Many homes and infrastructure near the Bhotekoshi River were damaged or destroyed during the devastating flash floods that left thousands of people missing. Copyright: Gautam/UNICEF

September 4, 2026

By Tauseef Ahmad and Sajid Raina

Key Takeaways:

A late-August cascade in the Nepal–China border highlands—ice, rock and debris, likely on the Lhende Khola—apparently dammed a Bhotekoshi tributary for ~18–19 hours, then burst on 26 August. UN figures cited: more than 1,000 dead, nearly 4,000 missing, ~11,800 rescued; roads, bridges, hydropower and the Tibet trade route were wrecked.

Analysts (Planet Labs, IRDR) point to mass failure, not a rain-only flash flood. Steep valleys turned the release into a debris surge. Experts say Hindu Kush Himalaya hazards now chain—glacier collapse, landslide, blockage, flood—so single-hazard warnings miss the start kilometres upstream. Glaciers there lost ~12% of area from 1990–2020; ice loss has doubled since 2000.

Planning should treat compound risk across borders (Chamoli 2021 is a parallel). Satellites reconstructed this event and watch new lakes, but cannot reliably time a collapse. Call is for mixed systems: imagery, gauges, seismic sensors, cameras, forecasts and community alerts—plus fewer unmonitored glaciers.



A catastrophic flood in Nepal that left thousands missing started with a collapse of ice and rock high in the mountains—a warning that disaster planning must prepare for chains of hazards, not isolated events, say experts.

The cascade of ice, rock and debris that tumbled through the Nepal-China border region last week probably blocked a tributary of the Bhotekoshi river, forming a dam, before bursting downstream with devastating force, according to disaster analysis.

The torrent arrived in Nepal’s Rasuwa district with little warning, ripping through settlements along the Bhotekoshi river system, destroying bridges, roads and hydropower infrastructure and cutting a vital trade route with Tibet.


More than 1,000 people have been confirmed dead, with almost 4,000 still missing and around 11,800 rescued, according to UN figures on Tuesday (1 September). Thousands are in need of humanitarian assistance, hindered by blocked roads and damaged bridges.

Experts say the disaster illustrates a growing problem across the Hindu Kush Himalaya: hazards that once might have been assessed separately—glacier collapse, landslides, avalanches, river blockages, floods and even earthquakes—can interact within minutes or hours, creating an event that is much larger than any one of them.

“Most people think of flash floods as being caused by heavy rainfall,” said Liz Stephens, professor of climate risks and resilience at the University of Reading, in the UK.

But in high mountain regions such floods can result from “complex chains of hazards, including landslides, avalanches and glacial lake outburst floods”, she added.

That complexity, says Stephens, makes early warning particularly difficult.
Tributary blocked

Analysis of satellite imagery from US aerospace and data analytics company Planet Labs suggests that a substantial section of glacier and surrounding rock collapsed at high altitude near the Nepal-China border, sending an enormous mass of ice, snow and debris towards the valley.

The collapse appears to have affected the Lhende Khola, a tributary that becomes part of the Bhotekoshi river system.


A rapid-analysis report released by the Integrated Research on Disaster Risk (IRDR) on Friday (28 August) said the event was likely caused by an “ice, rock and soil mass failure” rather than intense rainfall.

The material probably blocked the river for about 18 or 19 hours, forming a natural dam which then gave way on the morning of 26 August, unleashing masses of water, ice, rocks and sediment, the report said.

Funnelled by the steep Himalayan terrain, the surge became a fast-moving mixture of water and debris capable of carrying huge boulders, destroying bridges and erasing riverbanks.

The rapid-analysis report said the steep gradient and narrow valley accelerated and concentrated the flow, while the heavy debris load increased its destructive power.

Chinese state broadcaster CCTV said the flood was “caused by glacier instability under the long-term effects of global warming” and described this as a “new and prominent feature of cryosphere disasters” on the Tibetan plateau.

A view of the Himalayas in Nepal

‘Bigger than the atom bomb’

Experts say these findings highlight the need for change in disaster monitoring.

A conventional flood warning system may detect rising rainfall or river levels. But a cascading cryospheric event can begin kilometres away, and at much higher elevation, with no obvious warning for communities downstream.

The International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) argues that disaster planning in the region needs to move away from treating hazards independently.

“With the nature of disaster risks rapidly mutating in the region, disaster risk reduction strategies can no longer evaluate hazards in isolation,” Saswata Sanyal, a disaster-risk reduction specialist at ICIMOD, told SciDev.Net.

“The era of preparing for a single, predictable hazard is over.”

The disaster comes just over a year after another major flood affected the same Lhende Khola-Bhotekoshi system.

In July 2025, flooding in the area was linked by Nepalese authorities to a glacial lake outburst. The recurrence is raising questions about whether the river corridor is becoming a particularly exposed pathway for cryosphere-related hazards.

A 2026 ICIMOD assessment found that glaciers across the Hindu Kush Himalaya lost about 12 per cent of their area between 1990 and 2020, and the rate of ice loss has doubled since 2000.

As glaciers retreat, new lakes can form, slopes can lose the support provided by ice, and frozen ground can become unstable. A glacier collapse can then entrain rock and soil, turning an initial ice avalanche into a debris flow capable of travelling tens of kilometres.

Research published in April on Himalayan hanging glaciers found that rising temperatures and shifting regional precipitation patterns are reducing glacier stability and increasing the risk of ice avalanches. The authors identified more than 219 hanging glaciers in northern India’s Alaknanda basin and warned that break-offs can cause physical damage and trigger secondary hazards, including glacial lake outburst floods.

A separate study on ice-rock avalanches in the Himalayas similarly concluded that such failures can rapidly transform into high-velocity debris flows, while stressing the difficulty of identifying precursors, or warning signs.

Geohazard expert Basanta Raj Adhikari, director of Tribhuvan University’s Centre for Disaster Studies, in Nepal, described the 26 August flood as an unprecedented event in the region.

“In my research career, I haven’t seen a bigger flood event than this in the Himalayan landscape,” Adhikari said, attributing its extraordinary force to the enormous volume of ice and debris that descended from the mountains.


“I calculated the amount of energy, which is bigger than the atom bomb that happened in Hiroshima,” he added.

He said the scale of the event demonstrates the immense destructive potential of cascading ice, rock and water hazards in the Himalayas.
Neighbours at risk

The disaster also raises questions about disaster preparedness in the wider region.

The Hindu Kush Himalaya stretches across Afghanistan, Pakistan, India, Bhutan, Bangladesh, and Myanmar, as well as Nepal and the Tibetan plateau, connecting communities through river systems that cross political boundaries.

This infographic was designed using AI.

In India, the 2021 Chamoli disaster demonstrated the destructive potential of a similar ice-rock cascade. A massive collapse in Uttarakhand sent water, ice and debris through the Rishiganga valley, killing more than 200 people and destroying hydropower facilities.

Scientists are increasingly treating such events as compound hazards rather than isolated disasters.

Across Bhutan and Nepal, glacial lakes are being monitored for possible outburst floods. In Pakistan, rapidly changing glaciers and high-mountain valleys create a complex combination of flood, landslide and avalanche risks.


A recent UNDP assessment of human security in the Hindu Kush Himalaya warned that climate impacts can cascade across interconnected food, water and energy systems, creating compound threats that are greater than individual hazards considered separately.
Satellite warnings

Experts say the Rasuwa disaster also provides a powerful demonstration of the potential—and limits—of satellite technology.

Images shown above were captured by the Copernicus Sentinel-2 mission showing the Nepal glacier collapse and flood before and after (24/27 August 2026). Source: ESA (CC BY 4.0 INT)

Satellite images helped scientists reconstruct what happened in an otherwise extremely difficult-to-access area. High-resolution imagery can reveal changes in glacier geometry, newly formed lakes, landslide scars, blocked rivers and altered drainage channels.

In the aftermath of the flood, authorities have used satellite observations to monitor newly formed lakes upstream that could pose additional risks if their natural barriers fail.


But identifying a disaster after it happens is very different from predicting it beforehand.

Ishfaq Ahmad, a satellite scientist based in Nepal, told SciDev.Net that while scientists can identify and assess potentially dangerous glacial lakes using satellite imagery and visual observations, predicting the exact moment when a lake will burst remains a challenge.

“Glacial lakes can be seen with our eyes and through satellite data. We can assess whether the lakes are potentially dangerous or not,” Ishfaq said.

But he said sudden triggers, such as rockfalls or ice collapses, can occur too rapidly for orbiting satellites to detect them in advance.

Satellites do not continuously observe every Himalayan slope at the resolutions needed to reliably detect an imminent collapse. Clouds can obscure optical imagery, while revisit times can leave gaps between useful observations.

Ground sensors can provide continuous measurements but installing and maintaining them is challenging in remote, high-altitude terrain, where field observations remain sparse.

The answer, therefore, is unlikely to be a single technology.

Scientists increasingly argue for combining satellite imagery with seismic sensors, river gauges, automated cameras, weather forecasts, glacier monitoring and local community warning networks.

ICIMOD has noted that only a fraction of Himalayan glaciers are adequately monitored, leaving large areas as blind spots. It has called for better data and for scientific information to be translated into decisions that communities can act on.

This piece was produced by SciDev.Net’s Global desk.


About Tauseef Ahmad
Tauseef Ahmad is a freelance journalist based in South Asia. His work has appeared in Al Jazeera, TRT World, The Polis Project, The Guardian, and other publications.
View all posts by Tauseef Ahmad →



About Sajid Raina
Sajid Raina is a freelance journalist based in South Asia. His work has appeared in The Guardian, TRT World, Diplomat, News International and other publications.
View all posts by Sajid Raina →

Filipino Comics Matter: Empowering Parents To Fight School Bullying




PHOTO: Hechanova et al., 2026

September 4, 2026

By Eurasia Review


The Philippines has one of the highest rates of school bullying in the world: one in every three students is bullied at least once a week, according to the international Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD). Ateneo de Manila University researchers are now looking at ways to empower Filipino parents to help address and prevent bullying to complement school efforts.

Empowerment begins with a deep dialogue with the parents to better understand their concerns and experiences. This is crucial, as parents are well-positioned to recognize early warning signs and provide immediate support outside of school.

Rather than simply treating parents solely as learners or recipients of anti-bullying information, researchers from the Department of Psychology and the Department of Information Systems and Computer Science took a participatory approach to the design process. They invited parents of public school students to explore ideas for bullying-prevention materials, which were then developed and refined through feedback from the communities they were intended to reach.

Parents suggested using an accessible medium: comic strips.

Once the comics were developed, they were shared back to parents to make sure that they were relevant. Notably, the parents challenged conventional portrayals of family roles: they called for fathers to be represented as actively involved in their children’s emotional well-being, rather than positioning empathy as primarily a maternal role. Revisions consequently depicted both parents participating in conversations about bullying, including a father who recognizes and apologizes for an initially unhelpful response to his child’s experience.

Other recommendations led to clearer language, more accessible visuals, and more realistic guidance on how families should work with schools to address bullying.

These changes reflect the project’s central principle of moving from “designing for users” to “designing with users.” By incorporating parents’ lived experiences into the development process, the researchers sought to make bullying-prevention materials more relatable, culturally grounded, and practical.

The comics are part of a larger, ongoing bullying-prevention project rather than a one-time finished intervention. The revised materials will serve as evidence-informed storyboards for short informational reels intended for further use and evaluation with parents in partner public schools.

The project demonstrates how prevention materials can evolve when the communities they are intended to serve are given a role in creating them.

A Secluded Russian Island May Hold Bioweapons Secrets – Analysis

An illustration shows Russian President Vladimir Putin (left), a satellite image of Lisy Island, and Vladimir Maksimov, head of the Center of Experimental Physiology located there. Credit: RFE/RL

September 4, 2026

By RFE RL

By Mark Krutov, Sergei Dobrynin, Systema and RFE/RL’s Russian Service

Key Takeaways:

An RFE/RL-led report notes that the Center of Experimental Physiology on Lisy Island in Tver’s Vyshnevolotskoye Reservoir—closed after a 2023 “natural monument” designation—is led by Vladimir Maksimov, a former official of the Defense Ministry’s 48th Central Research Institute, which the U.S. sanctioned in 2020 over alleged biological and chemical programs. Ukraine’s HUR on 21 August claimed the center works with dangerous pathogens for the armed forces; Maksimov did not comment.

The island had imperial and Stalin-era animal-disease labs. The FMBA-run center was named in spring 2021; satellite images from July 2026 show a finished lab, housing and a helipad. Maksimov previously headed a virology unit later folded into the 48th Institute and, in older interviews, discussed hemorrhagic-fever viruses while calling the work defensive.

FMBA, which also oversaw COVID vaccine work, was placed under Putin in 2024; he has called it “medical special forces.” Systema has previously tied FMBA-linked institutes to Novichok and other poisoning cases. Moscow says research is only for protection. Analyst Milton Leitenberg doubts COVID fully explains the 2021 expansion and notes isolated-island siting echoed Soviet safety practice; he treats any wartime BW role as unproven.

A scientific facility on a secluded island that is closed to the public is affiliated with an institute accused of developing biological weapons for the Russian military, RFE/RL’s Russian Service and Systema, RFE/RL’s Russian investigative unit, have found.

The islands in Vyshnevolotskoye Reservoir, in the Tver region northwest of Moscow, were once popular with locals for fishing and berry picking. After the northern part of the reservoir was designated as a “natural monument” in 2023, access to many of them — including Lisy Island, now home to the Center of Experimental Physiology — was restricted.

The blue area shows part of Russia’s Vyshnevolotskoye Reservoir in the Tver region, designated as a “natural monument” by Russian authorities.


Systema and RFE/RL’s Russian Service determined that the center’s head, Vladimir Maksimov, is a former official of the Russian Defense Ministry’s 48th Central Research Institute, the country’s leading developer of defensive systems against biological weapons. It was blacklisted by the United States in 2020 along with two other Russian institutes for allegedly continuing biological and chemical weapons programs.

Separately, the federal parent agency of the new center on Lisy Island has figured in investigations into the poisonings of Russian opposition politician Aleksei Navalny and former Russian GRU officer Sergei Skripal with a Novichok-type nerve agent.
‘Experimenting With Dangerous Viruses’

Although largely unused by the Russian government in recent decades, Lisy Island already had a rich history of scientific research involving infectious diseases, predating the state’s latest construction there.

It hosted a veterinary laboratory in Imperial Russia and a facility for “conducting acute experiments involving infectious diseases of agricultural animals” during Josef Stalin’s rule of the Soviet Union.

In spring 2021 — about a year before Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine — the settlement on the island became the Center of Experimental Physiology, part of Russia’s Federal Medical-Biological Agency (FMBA), with one of the country’s newest research laboratory complexes being constructed there.

Construction of the Center of Experimental Physiology was completed by the autumn of 2025, and satellite images of Lisy Island from July 2026 show a large building — the lab — as well as a landscaped park, housing for personnel and guests, and a helicopter landing pad.


But on August 21 of this year, Ukraine’s military intelligence agency, HUR, claimed that the Center of Experimental Physiology was “experimenting with dangerous viruses and other pathogens for the benefit of the [Russian] armed forces.”

Systema and the RFE/RL’s Russian Service, also known as Radio Svoboda, found a connection to Russia’s armed forces through the center’s head, Maksimov.

Prior to leading the center on Lisy Island, Maksimov had long been involved in biological research for the Russian military.

Judging by his publicly available work, he had mostly specialized in exotic and deadly hemorrhagic fever viruses, such as Ebola and Marburg. Both pathogens were considered in the Soviet Union as potential foundations for the development of biological weapons.

“Ebola hemorrhagic fever…in our view, is one of the most likely agents for biological warfare,” Maksimov said in a 2004 interview with the Russian weekly Voyenno-Promyshlenniy Kuryer (Military-Industrial Courier).

Once described as a “young and enterprising colonel of the medical service,” Maksimov led Russia’s military unit 44026, the Virology Center of the Defense Ministry’s Institute of Microbiology, from 1999 to 2006.

In 2008, unit 44026, in the city of Sergiyev Posad outside Moscow, was effectively renamed the 48th Central Research Institute of the Russian Defense Ministry, which Western intelligence agencies believe brings together some of the remnants of the Soviet biological-weapons development program.

Maksimov continued to work at the facility in 2008, but apparently no longer as director.

In a 2005 interview with the newspaper Trud, Maksimov asserted that that the purpose of the Sergiyev Posad center was defensive.

“Contrary to what is sometimes attributed to us, we are not engaged in ‘spreading death.’ Our task is exactly the opposite — to be able to combat it,” he said.

Systema found a visiting card for Maksimov from 2022 on an online auction site. He did not respond to phone calls and messages sent by RFE/RL seeking comment.

In 2024, Radio Svoboda found that the center in Sergiyev Posad had also undergone a major expansion since Russian President Vladimir Putin launched the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022.
COVID As Timely Cover?

Systema and Radio Svoboda found that the expansion of Russia’s research facilities on Lisy Island and in Sergiyev Posad had effectively begun late in 2021, a few months before the invasion and against the backdrop of the subsiding global COVID-19 pandemic.


Both the 48th Central Research Institute and the Lisy Island facility’s overseer, the FMBA, were officially involved in the development of Russian COVID-19 vaccines.

However, Milton Leitenberg, a researcher at the Center for International and Security Studies at the University of Maryland School of Public Policy and an expert on the Soviet biological weapons program, expressed doubt that the research expansion was Moscow’s response to the pandemic.

“The coincidence of dates of the Russian public health response to the COVID pandemic and Putin’s decision on invading Ukraine are of course notable,” Leitenberg told Systema and Radio Svoboda. “Nevertheless, given that no later than mid-2021, Putin made the decision to invade Ukraine…the expansion of Russian biological weapons research, as well as the inclusion of new laboratories such as Lisy Island, must be viewed in that context.”

While the role Russia might have intended biological weapons to play in the war “remains a mystery,” he said, the development work may represent what he called “an opportunistic expansion” of biological research activity alongside other military sectors.

Leitenberg said the appointment of Maksimov and other senior former officials of the 48th Central Research Institute to lead the Center for Experimental Physiology appears to be a strong argument that the new facility on Lisy Island may represent an enlargement of military activities despite the formally civilian status of the FMBA.

Lisy Island’s location may also be telling. In the Soviet period, Leitenberg said, placing the laboratory on an isolated patch of land in the middle of a reservoir served as a safety measure — an additional layer of protection for local residents in the event that a dangerous pathogen escaped.

He also recalled that the main testing laboratory of the Soviet biological weapons program on Vozrozhdeniya Island in the Aral Sea, in what is now independent Uzbekistan, was likewise surrounded by water on all sides.
‘Medical Special Forces’

Formed in 2004, the FMBA handles many of Russia’s unconventional public health challenges. Among other things, it provides medical support for athletes and cosmonauts, people working in closed cities. It also responds to disasters and industrial accidents, and handles radiation, chemical, and biological incidents.

In 2024, the oversight of the agency was transferred from the Russian government directly to Putin, a move described in parliament as the “right decision” that “would help address issues of a confidential nature.”

Putin meets regularly with FMBA officials, most recently in August, and has previously referred to the agency as “medical special forces.”

In a 2020 investigation into an updated version of Novichok, Systema found that a research institute in Russia’s Leningrad region overseen by the FMBA was producing a number of biological supplements developed by a scientific center called Signal.

Signal was later found to have worked with epibatidine, a poison derived from an Ecuadorian frog that, according to a leading theory, was used to poison Navalny in the Arctic prison where he died suddenly in February 2024.

Officially, Moscow denies conducting research aimed at developing biological and chemical weapons, claiming that its research is limited to developing means of protection against their potential use.

However, the investigation into Navalny’s poisoning suggested that Russia continued its work on developing such weapons, in violation of the respective international conventions it had ratified.

Adapted by Mykyta Peretiatko from the original Russian-language report.Mark Krutov is a correspondent for RFE/RL’s Russian Service and one of the leading investigative journalists in Russia. He has been instrumental in the production of dozens of in-depth reports, exposing corruption among Russia’s political elite and revealing the murky operations behind Kremlin-led secret services. Krutov joined RFE/RL in 2003 and has extensive experience as both a correspondent and a TV host.

Sergei Dobrynin is one of the leading investigative journalists in Russia. He has been instrumental in the production of dozens of in-depth reports, exposing corruption among Russia’s political elite and revealing the murky operations behind Kremlin-led secret services. He joined RFE/RL in 2012.

Systema is RFE/RL’s Russian-language investigative unit, launched in 2023. The team conducts in-depth investigative journalism, producing high-profile reports and videos in Russian.

RFE/RL’s Russian Service is a multi-platform alternative to Russian state-controlled media, providing audiences in the Russian Federation with informed and accurate news, analysis, and opinion.


About RFE RL
RFE/RL journalists report the news in 21 countries where a free press is banned by the government or not fully established.
Vi=ew all posts by RFE RL →

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Great Power Competition In The Caribbean And South Pacific Islands – Analysis

Flags of the Republic of China (Taiwan) and the People's Republic of China. CC BY-SA 4.0

September 4, 2026\

By Dr. Rajaram Panda

Key Takeaways:

Taiwan is recognized by 12 states; four are in the Caribbean (Haiti, St Kitts and Nevis, St Lucia, SVG). China peels allies with aid; Taipei uses aid to hold the rest. Beijing also objected when Palau hosted Taiwan’s foreign minister at the August 2026 Pacific Islands Forum.
After Hurricane Ivan (damage >200% of GDP) Grenada left Taiwan for China in 2005.

 

Taipei sued in New York over defaulted loans, chased cruise and other revenues, and settled years later by cutting ~$22 million roughly in half. SVG’s Taiwanese debt is cited as $37 million (2022) to $345 million (2026), with New York-law acceleration if it switches; a Taipei trip yielded a $2 million grant. The author treats Grenada as a warning shot to remaining allies.

In the South Pacific, Australia is signing security deals (Vanuatu June 2026; Fiji’s first mutual defence treaty July 2026) while China remains a top trader and infrastructure partner. Island states hedge: Western security, Chinese commerce. The U.S. presence is older (Samoa, WWII bases) but Australia/NZ now carry much of the day-to-day contest Penny Wong called “permanent.”

Taiwan as an island nation and economically vibrant has been facing existential crisis since the days Nationalists fled from the mainland China after losing the civil war and after the Peoples Republic of China’s economic rise and increasing assertiveness over claims of Taiwan as an integral part of the PRC. After the US changed its recognition from Taiwan to China as the official entity, not only Taiwan lost its UN membership but lost its status as a country altogether. Since then China has used economic aid as a bargaining tool to Taiwan’s diplomatic allies and enticed those diplomatic allies to switch allegiance. As a result Taiwan is left with few diplomatic allies, mostly small island nations in the Caribbean region and the islands nations in the South Pacific.

The Caribbean has played a significant role in Taiwan’s foreign relations, as several Caribbean states are among the small number of countries that maintain formal diplomatic recognition of Taiwan rather than the PRC. These relationships have been shaped by international competition for diplomatic recognition, development cooperation, and shifting regional and global geopolitics.

As of 2026, nine states in the Caribbean recognized the PRC and four recognized the Republic of China, Taiwan’s official name. The region has remained one of the most important diplomatic strongholds for Taiwan in the Western Hemisphere. Today, Taiwan is recognised by only 12 states, with four of them – Haiti, Saint Kitts and Nevis, Saint Lucia and SVG – in the Caribbean.


China has objected in a routine manner whenever high level political leaders from other countries have visited Taiwan or Taiwan has participated in any other regional forums. The latest in this narrative is when Taiwan joined the 55th Pacific Islands Forum Leaders meeting in Koror, Palau in the last week of August 2026. China voiced its opposition, with Beijing’s envoy to the Pacific Qian Bo threatening unspecified consequences over its presence at the conference, which is not a dialogue partner for the forum. Palau, a stunning West Pacific archipelago of less than 20,000 people, is one of a dozen remaining nations that maintain diplomatic nations with Taiwan. As host of 2026 Pacific Islands Forum, it invited Taiwan’s foreign minister to attend, one of Taipei’s few remaining avenues for international exposure.

Taiwan too has used economic diplomacy with the island nations in the Pacific and the Caribbean region to keep and save diplomatic ties with those diplomatic allies. In fact, both China and Taiwan virtually compete in giving economic aid as inducement to switch allegiance and maintain diplomatic ties respectively. In this competition, China has almost succeeded in most cases, thereby marching ahead for total diplomatic isolation of Taiwan. This has been the strategy of Beijing for ultimate reunification of Taiwan with the mainland.

Being pushed to the wall for survival, Taiwan too has explored all possible means to keep diplomatic ties with the remaining dozen of allies. Grenada is a test case for Taiwan on how to deal with this Caribbean nation. In 1989, Grenada severed ties with China and recognised Taiwan, causing Beijing to cut formal relations due to the One-China policy. Then in 2005 Grenada switched diplomatic allegiance from Taiwan to China.


This provoked Taiwan to play the debt hardball diplomacy that carries a clear warning for its remaining allies. Taiwan dragged its former diplomatic partner Grenada through US courts to collect on defaulted loans. In fact the debt trap strategy was originally used by Beijing, leading to many small countries to switch allegiance from Taiwan to China. Analysts often warned these small countries to be careful not to fall into China’s debt trap and thus avoid bilateral loans from China. Grenada’s debt dispute is not recent; it is decade old and Taiwan decided to weaponise to indirectly send a message to Beijing that it too can play the hardball.

What was Grenada’s economic situation and what compelled it to borrow loans from Taiwan, which it failed to repay? In 2004, Grenada was decimated by Hurricane Ivan and this led the Grenadian government to make a strategic decision to shift diplomatic recognition from Taiwan to China in 2005. When Grenada was hit by another hurricane in 2005, its population of 10,000 suffered with huge economic damage, needing external help.

When Grenada switched diplomatic allegiance from Taiwan to China, it was a big blow to Taiwan. Following the devastation caused by the hurricanes in two successive years, Grenada’s economy was in shambles. Grenada required immediate liquidity for rebuilding its battered infrastructure, which Beijing was too happy to provide. Therefore the switch was born of necessity than any other reason. The damage from Ivan was more than 200 per cent of gross domestic product. Over 90 per cent of homes were damaged or destroyed, and half of the population was left homeless.

At that time, Taiwan was Grenada’s largest creditor and had reason to feel betrayed over Grenada’s decision to switch allegiance. Taipei sued Grenada in a New York court to recover the full outstanding amount. Writing in South China Morning Post, Alex Lo observes: “Thus began a spiteful, decade-long legal battle. Taiwan wielded the loan contract’s sovereign immunity waiver like a bludgeon, attempting to seize Grenada’s revenue streams from cruise lines, shipping companies and international arbitration awards.” The lawsuit affected Grenada greatly and was not able to recover sooner than expected. The courts eventually sided with Grenada, and a settlement was reached a decade later by halving the total debt of about $22 million. Yet, the damage was already done.


By going to court to recover its money, Taiwan indirectly sent a message to the remaining allies to be watchful in dealing with international finance. Taiwan activated its debt-trap diplomacy as a desperate step to remain relevant in international politics and maintain its status as a sovereign entity.

The situation of Saint Vincent and the Grenadines (SVG), another ally of Taiwan, is equally precarious. Its debt-fuelled alliance with Taipei looks increasingly unsustainable. Its Taiwanese debt is skyrocketing. The figures have ballooned from $37 million in 2022 to $345 million in 2026. With little money available, the government is unable to fund investment for growth. The loan agreements are governed by New York law. This includes a clause that would make SVG immediately repay should it switch diplomatic recognition. The government of SVG has very little fiscal space for social programmes. The SVG Prime Minister travelled to Taipei to celebrate the 45th anniversary of diplomatic ties. Though his real purpose was to ease pressure on the national debt, he failed in his mission, except getting a paltry grant of $2 million.

Seeing Grenada’s case, SVG did not hesitate to publicly declare its commitment to maintain diplomatic relations. SVG is aware how Taipei would respond should there be any attempt at a diplomatic switch. The government now faces an almost impossible challenge: stabilising a struggling economy, protecting essential social programmes, and stimulating growth through investment. Reliance on Western and Taiwanese economic aid and borrowing are the primary reasons, and politically under the influence of the US, the small number of Taiwan’s remaining diplomatic partners, mainly small island states in the Caribbean and Oceania, including Palau, Tuvalu and the Marshall Islands, effectively remain captive from recognising China.

The situation is no different in the Pacific island nations where competition for influence between China and Australia is in full play. Like the small states in the Caribbean, the Pacific nations are also walking a tightrope between Western security and Chinese trade. Compared to the vulnerabilities of the Caribbean island states, the small states in the South Pacific have a bigger neighbour in Australia to rely on and keep China at bay. While Australia’s approach, besides economic aid, has been by signing defence pacts in the region, Beijing uses aid diplomacy to spread its influence. For the South Pacific islands, though long neglected as a geopolitical backwater, the strategic significance of the region has assumed added importance in the wake of maritime trade and convergence of interests. Signing defence pacts has emerged a significant tool to protest their strategic and national interests.

While Australia provides security guarantees to the Pacific island states by signing security pacts, China is busy building infrastructure and deepening its economic footprint. In June 2026, Vanuatu, just 1090 mile east of Australia, signed a security pact with Australia. A week later in early July, Fiji signed its first mutual defence treaty with Australia. The treaty is open for other Pacific nations to join. As admitted by Australian Foreign Minister Penny Wong, such manoeuvre by Australia was a “permanent contest” for influence in the region against an increasingly assertive China. Seen from a larger perspective, this is a demonstration of Australia’s ambition of becoming the Pacific’s preferred security partner and by eliminating China’s influence from the region.

Graeme Smith, deputy director of the Coral Bell School of Asia-Pacific Affairs at the Australian National University is quoted to have observed in a post in the South China Morning Post that these pacts are a calculated hedge by the Pacific Island nations. For almost all Pacific countries, China is a major trading partner. At the same time, the US has extensive military facilities across the Pacific Ocean. Neither the Pacific nations nor China has the capacity to see America’s eclipse from the region. The best for the Pacific island states therefore is to make the best of the current situation.


The US military presence in the South Pacific is not recent; it dates back to the late 19th century, when the US annexed American Samoa and soon built its first naval base south of the equator. During World War II, the Allies operated airbases and naval airfields across the South Pacific – including in Papua New Guinea, Fiji and the Solomon Islands. After the War, the US shifted its security focus northwards to Guam and Hawaii, largely leaving it to Australia and New Zealand to further Western interests in the South Pacific. Since then, the geopolitics in the region has undergone a change with China’s rise as an economic behemoth with unlimited appetite to spread its influence wherever its economic and security interests coalesce. This makes the South Pacific region as a theatre for great power competition between China and Australia/New Zealand. For the Pacific island nations, Australia might be the preferred security partner but China is still relevant for their economic lifeline in terms of trade, aid and economic development. The Pacific island nations are left with no choice but to play such balancing act for their national interests. In this power game, while Australia and New Zealand are unlikely to withdraw their engagement with the Pacific nations, Beijing is likely to continue capitalising on the Pacific Island nations’ desire to balance competing major powers.

About Dr. Rajaram Panda
Dr. Rajaram Panda is former Senior Fellow at Pradhanmantri Memorial Museum and Library (PMML). Earlier Dr Panda was Senior Fellow at MP-IDSA and ICCR Chair Professor at Reitaku University, JAPAN. His latest book "India and Japan: Past, Present and Future" was published in 2024 by Knowledge World. E-mail: rajaram.panda@gmail.com
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A Strategic Perspective On The Current Development Of High-Tech Industries In China – Analysis

September 7, 2026

Anbound
By Chen Li

Key Takeaways:

ANBOUND’s line: China’s growth engine is still investment, not a new high-tech model. Capex stayed ~40% of GDP after 2004 (over 46% around 2011). With property and old infrastructure shrinking (Jan–Jul 2026: real estate −19.2%, infrastructure −3.6%, manufacturing −1.7%), high-tech investment rose 5.0% (info services +19.2%, aerospace +12.3%). Provinces are stuffing AI, low-altitude, and aerospace into huge project lists.

Revenue lags the concrete. LandSpace: tiny 2025 sales vs a RMB 1.7bn loss; SenseTime still lost RMB 1.8bn; EHang sold ~RMB 418m and stayed in the red. Commercial space, foundation models, and eVTOLs need long cycles of chips, power, airspace, and certification. Almost all 291 city 15th Five-Year outlines still chase the same sectors (257 want low-altitude economy).

Why they keep building: the 2026 growth band is 4.5–5%; retail sales only +1.2% Jan–Jul; exports help but locals cannot command them. So high-tech is “infrastructure-ized”—policy first, parks and debt next, demand later. Kung Chan’s warning: that recycles old leverage in a tech wrapper. Real pillars need profit and demand; project lists plus SOE credit risk dumping losses on the fiscal and banking system.

When it comes to high-tech industries such as robotics, commercial aerospace, and artificial intelligence, public attention in China often focuses on technological progress and project implementation. Competition among localities is also mainly reflected in which projects are implemented faster, which industrial scale is larger, and which has more application scenarios. These issues belong to the realm of policy operations and reflect how high-tech policies are implemented, as well as the capacity and progress of different regions in executing them.

ANBOUND focuses more on strategic issues, namely the relationship between this round of high-tech industrial development and China’s economic growth. Through the observations of ANBOUND’s founder Kung Chan, the growth model of China’s economy has not fundamentally changed in this wave of high-tech industrial development. As it stands, the country still relies heavily on investment-driven growth, except that the investment targets have shifted to high technology, and its stimulating effect on the economy may even be less than before.

In the past, China’s economy showed distinct investment-driven characteristics. The government expanded demand through infrastructure construction, real estate development, industrial investment, and urbanization. Meanwhile, enterprises promoted production by increasing factories, equipment, and production capacity. At the same time, the financial system converted residents’ savings into investment funds for enterprises and local governments. Investment thus became the most direct and easily operated tool for policies to stabilize economic growth. According to World Bank data, after 2004, China’s gross capital formation as a percentage of GDP remained at around 40% for a long time, and exceeded 46% around 2011, significantly higher than most major economies.

In the previous investment boom, real estate and infrastructure were the primary investment targets. Especially in the growth model led by local governments, a mutually reinforcing cycle was formed through land sales, real estate development, urban construction, bank credit, and local government financing vehicles. All these supported rapid economic development. Now that real estate investment has contracted sharply and the incremental space for traditional infrastructure is increasingly limited, high-tech-related major projects have begun to become new investment targets.

Data from China’s National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) show that from January to July 2026, national real estate development investment fell by 19.2% year-on-year, infrastructure investment dropped by 3.6%, and manufacturing investment declined by 1.7%. However, high-tech industry investment still grew by 5.0%, among which investment in the information services industry grew by 19.2%, aerospace vehicle and equipment manufacturing grew by 12.3%, and electronic and communication equipment manufacturing grew by 7.1%. It can be seen that against the backdrop of overall declining investment, high-tech investment has grown against the trend.

High-tech investment is further translated into projects, large and small, across the country. In Jiangsu Province, there have been 670 major provincial projects for 2026, including 414 industrial projects. Among major manufacturing projects, the proportion of strategic emerging industries and future industry projects increased from 74% to 80%. Sichuan Province scheduled 830 key provincial projects, including 425 industrial projects, with an annual planned investment of 363.75 billion yuan. Projects involving new quality productive forces such as AI, the low-altitude economy, and aerospace exceeded 240. Yunnan’s first batch of provincial-level major projects reached 1,677, with a total investment of RMB 2.57 trillion, among which 929 were industrial projects. There are already 513 projects receiving capital support from central budget-within investments, special bonds, and policy-based financial tools. Major projects, too, provided a support rate of over 30% for the province’s annual investment.

The problem is that although many high-tech industries have development prospects, moving from technological breakthroughs to scaled commercial application and profitability often requires a long period of time.

Take commercial aerospace as an example. The commercial space launch provider LandSpace’s operating revenue in 2025 was only RMB 52.0963 million, while its net loss attributable to shareholders reached RMB 1.711 billion, with cumulative losses of about RMB 3.775 billion from 2023 to 2025. Even for SpaceX, the most successful company in the industry, it is not the rocket launch business that supports its revenue and cash flow, but the Starlink business, which already has stable subscription revenue. From this, it can be seen that for most commercial rocket companies in China, the path to profitability will inevitably be longer.


AI and the low-altitude economy similarly face the issue of investment running ahead of revenue. Foundational large models require long-term chip purchases, data center construction, and the bearing of high research and development and electricity costs. SenseTime, a large-model enterprise, achieved revenue of RMB 5.015 billion in 2025, of which generative AI revenue was RMB 3.63 billion, but it still recorded a net loss of RMB 1.782 billion for the full year.

The commercialization conditions for the manned low-altitude economy are even more complex, requiring the simultaneous resolution of issues such as airspace opening, airworthiness certification, safety regulation, takeoff and landing facilities, and passenger traffic scale. EHang is already an enterprise with relatively rapid commercialization of eVTOLs globally, but its 2025 revenue was about RMB 418 million; its net loss still stood at RMB 276 million, and cumulative losses reached RMB 2.262 billion. The aircraft it has delivered are currently mainly used for scenic area tourism, testing, training, exhibitions, and trial operations.

The country’s decision-making departments, of course, are aware of the issue of returns on high-tech investment. The guiding opinions on government investment funds issued by the General Office of the State Council in 2025 have explicitly required the prevention of homogenized competition, overcapacity, low-level redundant construction, the crowding out of social capital, and the addition of hidden local government debt. Since the document has explicitly mentioned the issues, local governments certainly do know the risks.


Why, then, do local governments still conduct it? A report by the Yicai Research Institute reveals that nearly all 291 publicly available prefectural-level and above 15th Five-Year Plan outline documents prioritize high-tech industries for local economic development. Among them, 257 cities want to develop the low-altitude economy, 198 cities intend to develop new energy, 146 cities plan to develop robotics, and 113 cities want to develop semiconductors.

The reason is straightforward. Investment remains necessary to drive economic growth. China’s 2026 growth target of 4.5% to 5% requires striving for better practical results, making it essential to find drivers that can generate growth.

To achieve this aim, some would point out using consumption as a means. The Central Economic Work Conference in 2024 already listed “boosting consumption and expanding domestic demand” as the primary task among nine key tasks for 2025, but the implementation effect of the policy has remained limited. From January to July 2026, total retail sales of consumer goods grew by only 1.2%. Consumption is a slow-moving variable, jointly affected by residents’ income, employment, real estate wealth, social security, and future expectations. Given the reality of China’s economic development, relying on consumption to fill the growth gap left by the contraction of real estate in a short period of time is basically impossible.

When it comes to exports, they can certainly contribute to growth. In 2025, the contribution rate of net exports to China’s economic growth reached 32.7%, and exports maintained relatively rapid growth in the first 7 months of 2026. However, exports rely on external markets and are affected by tariffs, geopolitics, and the international trade structure. They can become a growth driver, but they are not a policy tool that local governments can stably organize and actively control.


It seems the option left would be investment. Real estate can no longer be carried out as it was in the past, the marginal benefits of traditional infrastructure are getting lower and lower, and local debt constraints are getting stronger and stronger. In the end, all that remains is high-tech investment. High technology at least still has prospects, and at the same time involves issues of national security and technological self-reliance. It can enter national strategies and fit into local project lists. Additionally, it can set up funds and build industrial parks, and can also vie for special bonds, policy-based financial tools, and bank credit. As a practical policy choice, high technology naturally becomes the most suitable direction to continue investing in.

Therefore, resource organization methods of high-tech industries are gradually becoming “infrastructure-ized”. After policies determine the direction, localities formulate projects, public capital goes in first, financial institutions provide leverage, enterprises follow up with investment, and industrial parks and production capacities are built up, all prior to looking for application scenarios and market demand. Before any returns are seen, the debt snowball rolls larger and larger. Local government finances are already not well-off now. The holes left by land finance have not yet been filled, and if massive amounts of capital are squeezed into high-tech projects with long payback periods through funds, state-owned enterprises, and credit, the debt problem will cause the issue to be even more dire.

This, of course, does not mean that the localities in China cannot develop high-tech fields, but rather that their development must pay attention to certain issues. Supporting high-tech investment with limits and bearing a portion of failures is a cost that technological competition must pay. However, if major high-tech projects are treated as substitutes for real estate and traditional infrastructure and are required to shoulder the same scale of steady-growth tasks, then the nature of the matter will change. Technology investment should originally be undertaken by long-term capital capable of bearing risks. Once it increasingly relies on local state-owned assets, financing platforms, and bank credit, the industrial risks of high technology will gradually transform into fiscal risks and financial risks.

Kung Chan believes that one does not need to be particularly pessimistic about whether China’s economy can maintain a certain growth rate in the future. After all, China still has a complete manufacturing system, a huge market, and a large number of engineering and technical talents, and some high-tech industries will surely grow eventually. What is truly pessimistic is that during this growth process, if methods relying on large-scale investment, industrial park construction, and debt expansion from the past are still followed, then the new productive forces will not have fully grown yet, while the debts of the old model will have already reaccumulated. High-tech, of course, needs to be developed, and even must be developed, but developing high-tech and utilizing such projects to drive investment are two different things. Only an industry that grows by relying on real demand, long-term technological accumulation, and enterprise profitability can become a new economic pillar. An industry that mainly relies on policy signals, project lists, and capital leverage may not leave behind new quality productive forces in the end. Rather, it might see a new round of debt wrapped in technological garb.
Final analysis conclusion:

China’s investment-driven model of the economy has not exited because of real estate contraction. Now, high technology is becoming a new vehicle for localities to organize projects, absorb capital, and sustain growth. This, indeed, is the “infrastructure-ization” of high-tech investment. The Chinese authorities will need to be vigilant against using short-term steady-growth methods to promote long-cycle, high-risk, high-tech industrial expansion. Once project scale and debt leverage get out of control, the ultimate weight added will still fall upon the fiscal, state-owned capital, and banking systems.

Chen Li is an Economic Research Fellow at ANBOUND, an independent think tank.


About Anbound
Anbound Consulting (Anbound) is an independent Think Tank with the headquarter based in Beijing. Established in 1993, Anbound specializes in public policy research, and enjoys a professional reputation in the areas of strategic forecasting, policy solutions and risk analysis. Anbound's research findings are widely recognized and create a deep interest within public media, academics and experts who are also providing consulting service to the State Council of China.

China Is Not A Trade Burden, It Acted As A Safety Valve To India By Surging Imports Against US Tariff Tension – Analysis




September 7, 2026

By Subrata Majumder

Key Takeaways:

The author says the old story—China as India’s deficit machine—flipped in 2025–26. China plus Hong Kong became India’s third-largest export market (fourth the year before). Estimated growth there of 35.97% and a ~$7.3 billion surplus offset about three-quarters of the slump in export growth to the United States (0.6% vs 11.8% a year earlier). The Netherlands fell 23.3%, the UK 7.6%.

Drivers cited: electronics (up 227.8%) and refined petroleum, together about a third of shipments to China. Apple’s China+1 suppliers in India (Foxconn, Tata Electronics, Pegatron India, Motherson) and ECMS plus PLI are credited. Forecast in the piece: electronics to China ~$3.5 billion in 2026–27 vs $3.2 billion.

Chinese media line quoted: imports from China are still the backbone of “Make in India” (phones assembled with 50–80% Chinese parts by value). Security worries remain; trade interdependence is the new paradox, and China is cast as a tariff-era safety valve, not only a burden.

Hitherto, China has been castigated for fueling the trade deficit of India. It has been the main force for widening the trade deficit by splurging exports to India and importing less. Eventually, it unleashed pressure on Balance of Payments.

Nonetheless, the India-China trade trajectory made a volte-face, reversing the gear of the trade burden. China surged its imports from India. China, including Hong Kong, emerged as the third biggest destination for India’s exports in 2025-26, rising from the fourth biggest destination in 2024-25, which rescued India from the fall in trade trap by US high tariffs. The USA has been the biggest destination for India’s export.

China’s increased imports from India, counterbalanced a greater part of the fall in the growth of exports to USA. According to an estimation, imports by China, plus Hong Kong, offset nearly 75 percent of the loss of export growth to the USA in 2025-26.


The spurt in the growth of exports to China left behind the traditional major export destinations in Europe, like the Netherlands, the UK, France and in Asia, Japan.

While India’ export dependency escalated on the Asian nation like China, the erstwhile major export destinations like USA and EU countries were losing potential for exports. Growth in exports to the USA – the biggest destination for India’s exports – plummeted due to high tariffs. Exports to the USA registered a slight growth by 0.6 percent in 2025-26, against 11.8 percent in the preceding year.

Following USA, exports to the Netherlands – the fourth biggest destination for exports – plunged by 23.3 percent in 2025-26, followed by the UK with a fall of 7.6 percent in the same year.

The notable feature for the turnaround in trade relations with China is that despite security concern looming large, India’s exports to China surged in 2025-26. India’s exports to China plus Hong Kong increased by 35.97 percent in 2025-26 – the highest growth in exports, despite global tariff tensions.


The massive growth in India’s exports to China and Hong Kong reflects a relief to India from the tariff stricken downfall in export growth to the USA. Growth in India’s exports to China + Hong Kong by a greater margin, counterbalanced the drop in export growth to the USA.

In the matrix of trade structure, the decrease in export growth to the USA yielded a loss of 11.2 percent in 2025-26 against the growth by 11.82 percent in 2024-25. In other words, India’s exports to USA increased merely by 0.62 percent in 2025-26, as compared to 11.82 percent in 2024-25.

In contrast, India’ exports to China+Hong Kong increased by 35.97 percent in 2025-26, fetching an export surplus of US$7317.1 million, which played a significant role in counterbalancing the export growth loss to USA.

Given the trajectory of trade diversification, it is reckoned that China is no more a trade burden. Instead, it acted as a safety valve for India.

According to Chinese media, more imports from China are not a negative point, but is a pivot to allowingMake in India a global success. China remains the irreplaceable supply chain for vital industrial components and intermediaries to India.

India is the second largest manufacturer of mobile phone in the world. Manufacturing of smart mobile phone is mostly an assembly operation and remains heavily reliant on imported component and parts. China supplies 50 to 80 percent of the materials in value terms in India’s assembly operation of mobile phones.

The striking success of India’s exports to China is led by both non-traditional merchandises and traditional items, propelled by electronic goods, such as telecom instruments, petroleum refinery products, non-ferrous metals, marine products, oil meals and gemstones.


To the surprise of many, in 2025-26 India’s major items for exports to China were electronic goods and petroleum refinery products, becoming the main drivers for surging exports to that country. Both these product groups accounted for nearly one third of India’s total exports to China in 2025-26.

India’s electronic goods exports to China increased by 227.8 percent in 2025-26, against 23.2 percent in the preceding year.

The unexpected growth in export of electronic goods to China was driven by the shifting of Apple, USA vendor system in India under China+1 strategy. Several of Apple’s suppliers in India contributed to shipment to China, such as Foxconn, Tata Electronics, Tata owned Pegatron Technology India, Motherson.

The promulgation of ECMS (Electronic Component Manufacturing Scheme), coupled with PLI scheme (Productivity Linked Incentive), became a catalyst for India’s capacity for manufacturing high end mobile phone parts and exporting markets like China and others. According to one estimate, India could reach US$3.5 billion in the export of electronic goods to China in 2026-27, as against US$3.2 billion in 2025-26.

All of these points unveil a new trajectory in trade relations between India and China with a paradox of interdependence.

About Subrata Majumder
Subrata Majumder is a former adviser to Japan External Trade Organization (JETRO), New Delhi, and the author of “Exporting to Japan,” as well as various articles in Indian media, including Business Line, Echo of India, Indian Press Agency, and foreign media, such as Asia Times online and Eurasia Review .
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Read Kuhn To Figure Out The Real China – Book Review



"Xi Jinping's New-Era China: The Inside Story," by Robert Lawrence Kuhn


September 6, 2026

By Subir Bhaumik

Key Takeaways:

The article presents Robert Lawrence Kuhn as a middle path on China: neither the Western stereotype of a one-dimensional authoritarian state nor an uncritical admirer of China’s speed and tech rise. That stance, it argues, is useful for the West and for countries such as India that must treat China as competitor, challenger, and possible partner.

Kuhn is offered as an unusually well-placed guide. He has worked in China since a 1988 invitation from Song Jian, visited more than 100 cities, written nearly 30 China books (notably How China’s Leaders Think, 2009), and received China’s Reform Friendship Medal in 2018. Xi Jinping’s New-Era China: The Inside Story (364 pages, Pentagon Press in India) covers Xi’s leadership from 2012 onward.

The review’s core claim is “context, not hagiography.” Kuhn treats “national rejuvenation” and the “Chinese Dream” as strategy, not slogans, while listing about 200 accusations against China over 14 pages in “Personal Perspective”—then declining both prosecution and defense so readers can see a more complex country than the charge sheet alone implies.

Robert Lawrence Kuhn is a western Sinologist with a difference. He is neither the stereotype that sees China as a ruthless authoritarian state ruled by a Communist party suppressing free speech and right of association. Nor is the wide-eyed admirer of a China overtaking US in new technologies or being able to construct a railway station in just nine hours.

The biggest challenge for the West or rising democracies like India in this century is to get a proper understanding of China, not only because it is a competitor, a challenger or a threat but also because it can be a potential partner to secure and stabilize a new world order. Without a proper understanding of China and its many shades, some contradictory, no country can handle it appropriately.

That is exactly where it becomes necessary to read up and refer, whenever necessary, Kuhn latest book “Xi Jinping’s New-Era China : The Inside Story.”

In fact, Kuhn is the right man to present the ‘Inside Story’. He has stayed and worked in China, interacted with thousands of Chinese from leaders to commoners, visited more than 100 Chinese cities, and written nearly thirty books on China.

His China journey started in 1988, when he was invited by Dr Song Jian, Chairman of China’s State Science and Technology Committee to “advise the Chinese science and technology sector in its first fledgling efforts to the market economy.” Of his previous books, the most significant is his “How China’s Leaders Think” published in 2009. In 2018, Kuhn was awarded “China Reform Friendship Medal” on the 40th anniversary of China’s Opening Up.

Kuhn ‘ Inside Story’ of new-era China is a perfect balance between objectivity and context on the one hand and insider perspective on the other. This 364-page book, published in India by Pentagon Press, covers the extraordinary period of Xi Jinping’s leadership from 2012 to now as the Chinese president emerged as the country’s most powerful leader since Mao Zedong. Kuhn does not treat Xi’s “National Rejuvenation” or the “Chinese Dream” as mere political slogans but goes deep to explore the vision and the strategy and the context behind them.

Kuhn is keen to prove the ‘Inside Story’ is no hagiography.

In the chapter “Personal Perspective”, he lists 200 accusations over 14 pages against China, which he says “cannot be igmored.”

“I will neither prosecute these charges nor conduct China’s defence… my purpose is more limited, and I hope more helpful. I want to give feel and flavour of a complex, variegated China that is richer, more interesting and more challenging, and more relevant than what this collection of accusations might superficially suggest,” Kuhn succintly observes.

That exactly seems to sum up the focus of the book and that precisely helps in understanding the China of today in the right perspective.


About Subir Bhaumik
Subir Bhaumik is a former BBC and Reuters correspondent and author of books on South Asian conflicts.
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Russia, Norway, And A Ship Seizure At The Heart Of The Arctic’s Growing Divide – Analysis


Russia's Professor Molchanov oceanographic research vessel at Barentsburg in Svalbard, Norway. Phhoto Credit: Alastair Rae, Wikipedia Commons

September 4, 2026
By K.M. Seethi

Key Takeaways:

On 2 September the Svalbard governor, acting on a Nord-Troms court order of 31 August, seized the Russian research ship Professor Molchanov in Barentsburg so Ukraine’s Naftogaz can chase a $4.22 billion Hague award for Crimea assets. Oslo and Governor Fause call it ordinary civil enforcement, not a political strike.

The ship is a 43-year-old Roshydromet oceanographic vessel that also ran the Murmansk–Barentsburg passenger/cargo link after Norway cut tourist visas; Svalbard sits outside Schengen under the 1920 treaty. Moscow called the arrest “piracy” and part of a squeeze on Russia’s last treaty foothold; Russian voices skipped the award’s merits.

The case exists because of Crimea 2014 and lands in a post-2022 Arctic: Finland and Sweden in NATO, more High North commands, Norway’s last Svalbard mine closed in 2025. Expect rhetoric, science-diplomacy and court appeals, not a fight over a research ship—but another stress test of Norwegian sovereignty plus open treaty access.

The Arctic has been sliding toward confrontation for several years now, and the drift has picked up momentum since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Finland and Sweden gave up decades of ‘military non-alignment’ and joined NATO. Norway expanded its Arctic brigade, Denmark sent conscripts to Greenland for the first time in living memory, and allied militaries built new command structures in the High North, from the air operations centre at Bodø to the Arctic Sentry framework linking existing exercises together. Russia, for its part, has leaned harder on its Northern Fleet, its Kola Peninsula nuclear assets, and its partnership with China, while accusing NATO of militarising a region that used to run on a softer, more cooperative logic. Both sides now treat the Arctic as a contested ground, and almost every fresh dispute up there gets read through that lens.

Svalbard is at the centre of this move, and on 2 September 2026 it produced the latest flashpoint. The Governor of Svalbard arrested a Russian research vessel, the Professor Molchanov, at its berth in Barentsburg. The order came from a Norwegian court, acting on a request from Naftogaz, Ukraine’s state energy company, which is trying to collect on a $4.22 billion arbitration award linked to the loss of its assets in Crimea after 2014. On paper, this is a debt-collection case that happens to have landed on a Russian ship in a Norwegian territory. In practice, it lands directly inside one of the most delicate legal and political arrangements left over from the twentieth century, at a moment when almost everything around Svalbard is already tense.
What actually happened

The Nord-Troms and Senja District Court ruled on 31 August that Naftogaz could seize the vessel to satisfy the Hague arbitration award, which compensates the company for property Russia took over in Crimea. The award has already been recognised as enforceable in Norway and in the Netherlands, so Naftogaz has been hunting for Russian assets it can actually reach, and a ship docked at a Norwegian-administered port turned out to be reachable.

The Professor Molchanov is not a warship or a spy vessel by any reasonable description. It is a 43-year-old oceanographic research ship, built in Finland, run by Roshydromet’s Northern Directorate for Hydrometeorology and Environmental Monitoring, and used in recent years to carry students and researchers from the Northern (Arctic) Federal University in Arkhangelsk. Since June 2025 it has also run a direct passenger and cargo route between Murmansk and Barentsburg, and that detail matters. Norway stopped issuing tourist visas to Russians, so getting to Svalbard through Tromsø or Oslo became difficult. Because Svalbard sits outside the Schengen zone, and because the 1920 treaty gives citizens of member states the right to travel there without a normal Schengen visa, the direct sea route from Murmansk became the practical way for Russians to keep visiting Barentsburg. The Molchanov, in other words, had become the physical link keeping that access alive.

Governor Lars Fause was quick to describe his own role narrowly. He said he was acting purely as an enforcement officer carrying out a court decision, not as a political actor, and that neither he nor the Norwegian government is a party to the underlying dispute between Naftogaz and Russia. The Ministry of Justice took the identical line, saying Norway learned about the case only after the arrest had already been decided. That is legally accurate and also politically convenient, since it lets Oslo present the episode as routine civil enforcement rather than a decision it made about Russia.

Russia’s reaction

Moscow did not accept that framing for a moment. Foreign Ministry spokeswoman Maria Zakharova, speaking at the Eastern Economic Forum in Vladivostok, called the arrest “real piracy” and rejected the word “detention” outright, arguing there was no legitimate legal basis for it. She went further, arguing that Western states were abandoning the elaborate legal order that has governed maritime affairs for generations and replacing it with political improvisation, a shift she called a degradation of the international maritime order and, memorably, likened to “Jack Sparrow” lawlessness rather than anything resembling Cold War conduct.

Military analyst Alexander Stepanov of RANEPA offered a more geopolitical reading, arguing that the seizure was really about pushing Russia out of Spitsbergen altogether, and describing the ship’s purpose as scientific and humanitarian rather than anything that could justify what he called a pirate-style seizure aimed at Russian maritime logistics in the Baltic and the north. Konstantin Zaykov of the Northern (Arctic) Federal University added an academic voice to the same theme, calling the move outrageous and calling it as evidence that the Arctic is becoming another front in what he described as a Western strategy of containing Russia, with Norway an active participant in that strategy.

None of these responses treated the case as a narrow commercial dispute. All of them folded it into a narrative about Western pressure on Russia in the north, which tells us something about how Moscow intends to use the episode, whatever the court’s actual reasoning was.

Legal dispute or geopolitical flashpoint

Both readings have some truth to them, and that is precisely what makes the case awkward. Strictly, this is a private commercial claim working its way through an ordinary Norwegian court, following an arbitration process Russia itself lost through non-participation and delay rather than through any direct Norwegian initiative. Nothing in the court record suggests Oslo instructed anyone to target a Russian vessel; Naftogaz picked its target and the court applied the law.

However, the setting turns an ordinary legal action into something else. Barentsburg is one of the last places where Russia maintains a continuous physical presence under treaty rights that go back over a century, and a Russian vessel being immobilised there, even briefly, touches questions of sovereignty, access and symbolism that a debt case decided in, say, Rotterdam never would. Russia’s own commentary confirms this reading: none of the Russian voices quoted above discuss the arbitration award’s merits in any detail. They discuss Norwegian intentions toward Svalbard. That gap between the legal basis of the case and the political meaning attached to it by Moscow is the real story here, and it suggests the episode will function as a geopolitical irritant regardless of how the court case itself concludes.

How Russia is likely to respond

Russia has limited practical options. It cannot easily challenge Norwegian jurisdiction over Svalbard itself, since the 1920 treaty gives Norway full sovereignty while granting other signatories only economic and residency rights, not any claim to co-administer the territory. What Russia can do, and has already begun doing through its diplomatic statements, is treat the case as proof of Western hostility, using it to justify further moves it might have wanted to make anyway: expanding its own institutional track at Barentsburg and Pyramiden, expanding the proposed international Arctic science centre involving China, India, Iran and the UAE, and continuing to display symbols of continuity such as Soviet-era flags at its settlements. Deputy Prime Minister Yury Trutnev’s 2024 comments about protecting “the rights of Russia and Russians” in Svalbard point toward this plan: rhetorical assertiveness backed by continued civilian and scientific presence rather than anything resembling military escalation.

Russia may also press the case through diplomatic channels or seek to have the arrest reversed through Norwegian courts, since the vessel and crew’s safety is not disputed by either side. But the more durable Russian response will probably be to keep citing the episode as evidence for a narrative it was already building well before September: that NATO states are using legal, regulatory and administrative tools to squeeze Russia out of Arctic spaces where it has historic and treaty-based rights.
Why Ukraine sits underneath all of this

The case exists only because of Ukraine. Without Russia’s 2014 seizure of assets in Crimea, there would be no arbitration award, no $4.22 billion claim, and no reason for Naftogaz to be hunting Russian property anywhere in the world. The full-scale invasion of 2022 then transformed the Arctic environment in ways that made an episode like this far more consequential than it would have been a decade ago. Finland and Sweden abandoned decades of non-alignment and joined NATO, allied military coordination in the High North intensified through structures such as the Bodø air operations centre and the Arctic Sentry framework, and Norway itself expanded its Arctic brigade while Denmark sent conscripts to Greenland for the first time in living memory. Russia’s own Foreign Minister, Sergei Lavrov, has argued publicly that this NATO buildup threatens Russian security and risks armed confrontation, though commentary on his remarks points out that he reverses cause and effect: it was Russia’s invasion that triggered the Finnish and Swedish accessions and the subsequent NATO planning, not the other way round.


The Molchanov case, then, is not directly related to the Ukraine war but it could not have happened without it, and it lands in an Arctic environment the war has already changed. Every actor involved reads the seizure through that lens, which is why a comparatively small legal dispute is generating statements at the level of foreign ministries and state television.
The history behind Svalbard tensions

Svalbard’s peculiar status goes back to the 1920 treaty, which gave Norway sovereignty while allowing signatory states, the Soviet Union joined in 1935, to reside and conduct business there on equal terms. That balance worked reasonably well for most of the twentieth century, largely because Cold War tensions rarely touched the archipelago directly, and because coal mining gave both Norwegian and Soviet, later Russian, settlements an economic reason to coexist. That coal economy is now largely gone; Norway closed its last Svalbard mine in 2025, and Russian mining at Barentsburg has long been more symbolic than profitable. With coal disappearing, both sides have shifted toward other means of maintaining relevance: Norway through tightened administrative and educational control, designating the University Centre in Svalbard as the sole authorised higher-education body and proposing a Svalbard Science Office to oversee international research; Russia through science diplomacy, proposing an international Arctic centre at Pyramiden involving BRICS partners, and through periodic assertions of treaty rights.

Norway has also grown wary of outside interest more broadly, restricting the sale of the last privately owned land parcel on the islands in 2024 partly out of concern about possible Chinese buyers, and objecting to Chinese symbols and student access at the Ny-Ålesund research settlement. Article 9 of the 1920 treaty bars the use of Svalbard for “warlike purposes,” a phrase that has aged awkwardly in an era of satellites and dual-use technology; Russia has previously questioned whether Norway’s SvalSat satellite facility complies with that provision, without escalating the dispute further.
Threat perception, Norway’s position and NATO’s shadow

For Russia, Svalbard’s importance is inseparable from its geography. The archipelago is close to the Kola Peninsula, home to Russia’s Northern Fleet, its nuclear-armed submarines and much of its “bastion” defence concept, which depends on keeping the surrounding seas relatively free of hostile surveillance. Any expansion of NATO presence or infrastructure near Svalbard, even civilian in appearance, tends to be read in Moscow as a potential threat to that bastion, which is why Russian officials repeatedly connect ordinary Norwegian regulatory decisions to a larger narrative of encirclement.


Norway’s position is more defensive. Oslo is not trying to push Russia out of Svalbard entirely; it is trying to tighten the rules under which everyone, including Russia and increasingly China, operates there, while making clear that Norwegian sovereignty, and by extension NATO’s collective defence commitments, ultimately covers the archipelago. That last point matters most. Because Svalbard is Norwegian territory, it falls within NATO’s Article 5 framework in principle, even though NATO has avoided placing permanent military infrastructure there specifically to keep the treaty’s demilitarised spirit intact. Russian leaders nonetheless treat any hardening of Norwegian control, judicial, administrative or otherwise, as circumstantial evidence of NATO’s northern expansion, folding the Molchanov case into the same story as Finnish and Swedish accession, the Bodø command structure and American interest in Greenland.
Where this leaves things

The Professor Molchanov will most likely be released once the underlying legal questions around the vessel’s status are resolved, and the case itself is unlikely to trigger anything resembling military confrontation. Russia has shown no appetite for that, and the risks of testing Article 5 over a research ship would be absurd. But the episode will not simply fade once the ship sails again. It has given Moscow another point for a narrative it was already constructing, given Norway another reason to tighten oversight of Russian activity on Svalbard, and reminded everyone how easily an ordinary commercial dispute can be absorbed into the standoff between Russia and NATO in the Arctic. The archipelago’s old formula, Norwegian sovereignty combined with open access for treaty states, is not collapsing, but it is being tested from several directions at once, and the Molchanov case is simply the latest test to surface.

About K.M. Seethi
K.M. Seethi is Director, Inter University Centre for Social Science Research and Extension (IUCSSRE), Mahatma Gandhi University (MGU), Kerala. He also served as ICSSR Senior Fellow, Senior Professor of International Relations and Dean of Social Sciences at MGU. One of his latest works is "ENDURING DILEMMA Flashpoints in Kashmir and India-Pakistan Relations."
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