Can Pax Silica De-Sinicize U.S. Supply Chains? – Analysis

Diplomats pose for a photograph after signing the Pax Silica declaration on December 12, 2025. (US State Department)

 August 23, 2026

By Lucio Blanco Pitlo III

Key Takeaways:

• Pax Silica is a U.S.-led coalition of about 24 countries aimed at building China-independent supply chains for critical minerals, semiconductors, and AI, with an early industrial hub planned in the Philippines.
• Its success hinges on long-term endurance and concrete delivery; past U.S. initiatives (Blue Dot, B3W/PGII, IPEF) largely stalled at standards and pledges, while China has locked in partners through sustained industrial policy, refining capacity, and tangible BRI projects.
• To compete, Washington must offer developing partners real value-added processing, technology transfer, and better regulation rather than mainly raw-material extraction or security-for-minerals deals, or risk losing credibility and ground in the tech race.

The U.S.-led Pax Silica initiative seeks to reduce dependence on China across critical-mineral, semiconductor, and AI supply chains, but its success will depend on sustained commitment, concrete project delivery, and meaningful benefits for developing-country partners.

In the high-stakes race for AI and computing power, China is moving up from the foundation to the front, catching up with the West. The United States is doing the reverse, rebuilding its material and production base to reinforce its lead. Washington is working backward to develop a complete supply chain independent of Beijing. Last December, the U.S. launched Pax Silica, a coalition of 24 countries aimed at creating a future AI ecosystem from energy and raw materials to advanced manufacturing. Its pioneering project, an industrial hub, is set to open in the Philippines. Endurance, continuity, and the question of whether geopolitics can trump economics will shape the prospects of this U.S.-led endeavor. 

From mining and refining critical minerals to accelerating domestic semiconductor production, China is becoming an emerging rule-maker in the evolving technology order. Since 2018, it has been hosting annual international AI conferences. To meet the challenge, Washington rolled out the Clean Network program in 2020 to prevent Chinese suppliers from dominating global information and communication solutions. However, outside U.S. allies, calls to ban Huawei and other Chinese vendors largely went unheeded, especially in the Global South. Affordability, performance, compatibility, lack of competitive alternatives, and the opportunity cost of being left out prevailed over US pressure. In 2023, Beijing proposed the Global AI Governance Initiative. Last July 16, 29 countries agreed to establish the World AI Cooperation Organization, which will be headquartered in Shanghai. With China’s entrenched capacity and growing confidence in both the hard and soft dimensions of the global digital infrastructure, the stakes are high for Pax Silica. Failure to compete may mean further erosion of U.S. technological lead. Two key challenges stand out. 

Playing the long game 

First is endurance. China’s rise as the world’s largest mineral refiner and production hub is neither inevitable nor providential. Rather, it is the result of a consistent industrial policy to develop national capacity, assured of a huge domestic demand, driven by ambitious targets and sustained by a willingness to bear great costs. It took about three to four decades for the country to become the world’s top ore processor and global factory. And it paid a steep price to attain this position, enduring tremendous environmental, health, and social harm, which were redressed in later years as the country’s economic strategy produced developmental dividends. 

China produces 76.35% of the world’s refined cobalt and 44.44% of refined copper. It also accounts for 79.38% of global graphite output, 69.23% of rare earths, 42.31% of molybdenum, 20.67% of bauxite (from which aluminum is derived), 17.8% of lithium, and 13.1% of silver. The U.S. has high import reliance on China for a range of critical minerals with civilian and military applications. These include yttrium (93%), bismuth (60%), rare earths (56%), antimony (54%), arsenic (52%), graphite (43%), magnesium (32%), tantalum (22%), gallium (19%), and tungsten (14%). These minerals are used in the manufacture of microchips, mobile phones, computers, consumer electronics, wind turbines, solar panels, electric batteries, transmission cables, precision-guided munitions, jet engines, and missile propulsion systems, among others. 

Pax Silica brings together affluent, technologically advanced countries and resource-rich developing nations. The U.S. is leveraging its alliances and partnerships to disperse production of critical minerals and industrial inputs and reduce the time needed to develop an integrated supply chain untangled from China. Cost and gain will be unevenly distributed, valuations may differ, and negotiation skills among members may vary. But lopsided deals in which some parties bear disproportionate harm, with few safeguards and little benefit, should be avoided. Metrics should go beyond commercial viability to include improved mining regulation, technology transfer, and more value-added processing or manufacturing in developing member countries. This will increase the initiative’s appeal and help future-proof long-term deals from potentially disruptive domestic politics. 

China offered market, investment, and infrastructure to lock in long-term supply agreements. The Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) built roads, railways, ports, and industrial parks. On the ideational level, Beijing is positioning itself as a leader of the Global South, pursuing South-South cooperation with resource-rich developing countries in Asia, Africa, and Latin America. In 2021, the country launched the Global Development Initiative. The so-called resource curse has long plagued several poor but mineral-rich countries wracked by persistent conflict, corruption, and weak governance. The absence of such countries in Pax Silica is likely deliberate. The project does not want to get sucked into risky conflict areas early on or create missionary expectations. But there are cases that show how access to capital and technology can transform commodity exporters. For instance, Chinese investment upgraded Indonesia’s nickel-refining capacity, vindicating Jakarta’s resource nationalism and inspiring other countries to leverage their natural resources to elevate their position in the value chain. 

Washington should recognize this development. More developing states are exercising their agency to chart policies that maximize the value of their finite natural bounty, create better opportunities for their people, and reduce adverse impact on the environment. The U.S. should go beyond transactional minerals-for-security deals like those floated for Ukraine and DR Congo. Concerns that reshoring may mean Global South members will simply perform their usual role of supplying raw ores for processing abroad need to be allayed. America has to offer enticing incentives beyond alarming partners about the perils posed by a rival’s near-monopoly on rare earths and overcapacity. 

Less optics, more execution 

The second hurdle is continuity. Pax Silica is not the first major U.S. initiative intended to counter China’s burgeoning economic clout. The Blue Dot Network, rolled out in 2019, aimed to certify projects to access a diverse pool of funds, thereby providing an alternative to China’s largely state-backed BRI finance. It morphed into the Build Back Better World (B3W) in 2021 and rebranded as the Partnership for Global Infrastructure and Investment (PGII) the year after. But beyond adopting standards and principles, these pitches did not lead to a pipeline of projects. In 2020, the U.S. also proposed the Economic Prosperity Network to restructure supply chains disrupted by the COVID-19 pandemic. The Indo-Pacific Economic Framework (IPEF), launched in 2022, was seen as America’s counteroffer to free trade agreements (FTAs), which have become unpopular at home, but which regional partners hope to see as the economic largesse that complements deepening alliance ties. None of these proposals made much headway. 

In contrast, China’s BRI, criticisms and all, has delivered concrete projects. These include highways, a mass transit system, coal power plants, and fiber optic cable under the massive China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC). In Southeast Asia, notable completed projects include the Laos-China railway and Jakarta-Bandung high-speed rail (HSR). Malaysia’s East Coast Rail Link, set to open next year, and the ongoing Thailand-China HSR construction are also part of BRI’s broad portfolio. In an apparent role reversal, while Washington retreats from globalization, Beijing doubles down on promoting free trade, ratifying its membership in the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP) in 2021 and upgrading its trade accord with ASEAN last year. In 2021, Beijing also applied to join the Digital Economy Partnership Agreement (DEPA) and a free trade pact that the US used to champion, the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP), which was rechristened as the Comprehensive and Progressive TPP (CPTPP) in 2018. The U.S. also ceded leadership in green energy and mobility to China by rolling back incentives for renewables and electric vehicles in favor of fossil fuels. Hence, Pax Silica needs to do better. Restoring the credibility of U.S. economic pitches is on the line. 

Even in the Philippines, site of the proposed debut Pax Silica project, U.S. pledges fell short. The $300 million acquisition by American private equity firm Cerberus of the former Hanjin shipyard in Subic, which filed for bankruptcy in 2019, was billed as the biggest public-private partnership in the 75-year history of Philippines-U.S. relations. But while the investment may have forestalled a possible Chinese takeover of the insolvent enterprise, the deal failed to revive the shipyard’s fortunes until another Korean company with a solid shipbuilding track record, HD Hyundai, entered the equation in 2024. In 2022, when Vice President Kamala Harris visited Manila, the US proposed a menu of initiatives, such as developing a nickel and cobalt processing facility and a geothermal power plant in Mindanao. Not much has been heard about these promises since then. 

Pax Silica can be transformative. Washington’s desire to break Beijing’s stranglehold on critical minerals can dovetail with partners’ desire to diversify markets and investors and grow their own industries. It makes sense for the Philippines, eager to catch up with fellow ASEAN peers, to offer attractive concessions to secure a potentially groundbreaking deal. Negotiation delays, whether efficiency-seeking firms will follow their governments, and leadership changes are variables that cannot be ignored. For instance, elections in Pax Silica members and non-signatory participants, such as the U.S., Philippines, and Taiwan, in 2028 may affect investors’ calculus. For sure, the initiative has stirred interest. Building urgency may be the next step. But the most important work is to ensure that proponents stay committed. Absent continuity and endurance, Pax Silica may worryingly join a growing number of U.S. initiatives that did not measure up.

• This article was published at China-US Focus

About Lucio Blanco Pitlo III

Lucio Blanco Pitlo III is a Research Fellow at the Asia-Pacific Pathways to Progress Foundation. He was a lecturer at the Chinese Studies Program at the Ateneo de Manila University and the International Studies Department at the De La Salle University and contributing editor (Reviews) for the journal Asian Politics & Policy. He is also a member of the Board of Directors of the Philippine Association for Chinese Studies. He obtained his Master of Laws from Peking University and a MA International Affairs at American University in Washington D.C.

View all posts by Lucio Blanco Pitlo III →

The Mecca Pact Redraws Asia’s Security Map – Analysis

Credit: OpenAI / Ramesh Jaura


August 27, 2026

By Ramesh Jaura

Key Takeaways:

Saudi Arabia, Türkiye, and Pakistan pledged in Mecca that an attack on one would be treated as an attack on all; they are now adding ministerial mechanisms, exercises, and defense-industry ties—but the pact still lacks NATO-style command, definitions, or automatic obligations.

The deal grew from Gulf insecurity after Iran-related strikes and doubts about U.S. guarantees; Washington has welcomed it as burden-sharing, while China, Iran, Egypt, and India each read it through their own interests.

Ambiguity is both deterrent and risk: members do not share the same rivals, nuclear implications are unofficial and unproven, and a crisis involving India, Iran, Yemen, or the Mediterranean could test whether the promise holds.

Saudi Arabia, Türkiye and Pakistan have pledged to treat an attack on one as an attack on all. Egypt is weighing membership, Washington has welcomed the move, Iran wants reassurance, China sees opportunity, and India is watching closely. A new security order may be forming, but its direction is unclear.

The place was chosen with care: Mecca, Islam’s holiest city, where Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan and Pakistani Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif met on 7 August and declared: “Any armed attack against any one of the three States shall be regarded as an attack against them all.”

It was a short sentence with a long shadow.

For Saudi Arabia, it offered protection when American guarantees no longer felt sufficient. For Türkiye, it gave Erdoğan another route to make his country an independent centre of power. For Pakistan, poor but militarily important, it reminded others that Islamabad cannot be ignored.

Together, they bring a rare mix. Saudi Arabia has wealth, energy power and influence across the Arab and Muslim worlds. Türkiye has NATO’s second-largest army and a fast-growing defence industry. Pakistan has a large, battle-tested military—and the only nuclear arsenal held by a Muslim-majority country.

It did not take long for commentators to call the new grouping an “Islamic NATO,” or sometimes a “Sunni NATO.” The description is tempting. It is also misleading.

NATO was built over decades. It has integrated command, military plans, shared procedures and a bureaucracy that works even when leaders disagree. The Mecca pact has none of that yet. It does not define an attack, say who decides one has occurred, or spell out what each member must do.

Would military support be automatic? Could one member decline to fight? Would Türkiye’s obligations under the new pact conflict with its duties as a NATO member? The agreement leaves these questions open.

But dismissing the pact as a ceremonial gesture would now be equally misleading.

Six days after the signing, Türkiye’s Defence Ministry began giving the pact substance. The partners plan political and military mechanisms linking foreign ministers, defence ministers and commanders. They intend to hold exercises on land, sea, air and cyberspace, and to cooperate on drones, artificial intelligence, electronic warfare, military production and technology transfer.

Reuters reported that the three defence industries would also be brought closer together.

The Mecca Agreement is not yet an Islamic NATO. But neither is it merely a piece of paper. It is an alliance being built while the surrounding region burns.Subscribe
A pact born in a frightened region

The agreement emerged, at least in part, from fear.

The United States and Israel attacked Iran on 28 February 2026, triggering a confrontation that crossed borders and sea routes. Iranian missiles and Tehran-aligned armed groups threatened Gulf states, oil facilities and commercial shipping. The Houthis intensified attacks from Yemen. The Strait of Hormuz and Bab el-Mandeb again became places where one strike could raise prices and shake governments.

Soon after the pact was signed, three Pakistanis were killed in a Houthi attack on a vessel in the Bab el-Mandeb Strait. Their deaths underlined a hard truth: conflicts in the Gulf, Red Sea and South Asia can no longer be kept apart.


The immediate danger explains why they signed the agreement. But behind it lies an older anxiety: can the United States still be trusted to protect its partners?

For decades, Gulf monarchies lived under an American security umbrella. US troops, intelligence, weapons and political commitments sustained the regional order. That relationship still matters. Saudi Arabia buys vast quantities of American arms, and no regional combination can easily replace America’s military reach.

But trust has thinned.

The 2019 attacks on Saudi oil facilities Abqaiq and the Khurais oil field exposed how vulnerable the kingdom had become to inexpensive missiles and drones. Washington did not retaliate directly against Iran. Riyadh remembered.

Then came America’s chaotic withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021. Regional governments watched how US forces left. The circumstances were different, but the question travelled beyond Kabul: if American priorities changed, who might be left next?


Washington was turning towards China while its Middle Eastern partners dealt with Iran, proxy forces, missiles, drones and the aftershocks of the Gaza war.

Donald Trump’s return to the White House did not remove uncertainty. His administration has shown it is willing to use enormous force. But that does not mean partners always know when America will act, how far it will go or what they will endure when it does.

Saudi Arabia is not breaking with Washington. It is doing something more careful: ensuring Washington is no longer its only option.

The kingdom has strengthened relations with China, restored diplomatic ties with Iran, kept channels open to Russia and invested heavily in its defence industry. The Mecca pact adds two more layers of protection: Türkiye and Pakistan.

It does not announce the end of American power in the Gulf. It shows that American power is no longer accepted as the only pillar on which security rests.
America applauds—but may not control what follows

Washington’s response has complicated the idea that the pact is an act of rebellion against the United States.

On 16 August, Trump said he was “very happy” that Saudi Arabia, Türkiye and Pakistan had “recently, and finally” signed the agreement. He called it a “big, bold, and important first step” and praised the three governments for becoming better able to defend themselves. Anadolu Agency reported his remarks.


Trump has long argued that America’s allies should spend more and carry more of their own defence burden. From that angle, the Mecca pact is useful. It could allow regional states to handle more of their security without repeatedly calling on Washington.

The arrangement does not immediately threaten America’s position. Türkiye remains in NATO. Saudi Arabia still depends heavily on American weapons, intelligence and logistical support. Pakistan continues to work with Washington on terrorism and regional diplomacy.

For the moment, the United States can welcome the pact as burden-sharing.

But there is a catch.

If the three countries produce weapons together, exchange intelligence and build crisis procedures, they will need less American permission and protection. Greater capability will give them more freedom to make choices Washington may dislike. The pact may not be designed to push America out, but it could help create a region where America is no longer central to every calculation.
What the three partners want

Each of the three countries sees something different in the agreement.

For Saudi Arabia, the attraction is protection—and access.

Pakistan has trained Saudi officers and soldiers for decades. Pakistani troops have served in the kingdom before. The military relationship is not new; the pact gives it a more formal and politically stronger shape.

Türkiye offers something else: a defence industry that can supply weapons more cheaply and often with fewer conditions than Western governments impose. Its drones, missiles, warships, armoured vehicles and electronic-warfare systems have attracted buyers across Europe, Asia, Africa and the Middle East.

Saudi Arabia wants to produce more of its own weapons under Vision 2030. Joint ventures with Turkish and Pakistani companies could help reduce its dependence on expensive Western imports.

For Türkiye, the pact is an opportunity to expand its reach.

Erdoğan does not want Türkiye seen merely as NATO’s difficult southeastern member. He wants it recognised as a power in its own right, with influence from the Black Sea and Mediterranean to the Middle East, the Red Sea, and the Indian Ocean.

Weapons are now an important part of that ambition. Turkish drones have affected the course of several wars. Defence exports bring money, influence and long-term political relationships. The Mecca pact opens a much larger field for all three.


Pakistan’s gains are different but just as important.

Islamabad’s economy remains fragile. Saudi loans and deposits have helped it through crises. Türkiye has supported Pakistan politically, especially over Kashmir, and the two countries have developed close defence ties.

By standing beside the rulers of Saudi Arabia and Türkiye in Mecca, Pakistan sent a message: whatever its economic troubles, it remains a country whose military strength and nuclear weapons give it strategic value.

The agreement also confirms the weight of Pakistan’s military establishment. Field Marshal Asim Munir has been publicly credited with helping to bring it about. In Pakistan, the most important ties with China, Saudi Arabia, Türkiye and the United States are rarely shaped by civilian diplomacy alone.

Yet the three partners do not share the same enemies.

Pakistan’s principal conventional rival is India. Türkiye is preoccupied with Syria, Kurdish armed groups and its disputes involving Greece, Cyprus and Israel. Saudi Arabia is focused on Iran, the Houthis, missile and drone attacks, Red Sea shipping and the security of its oil installations.

Sooner or later, those differences will matter.

Would Türkiye and Saudi Arabia regard an Indian strike on Pakistan as an attack on all three? Would Pakistan be expected to help Türkiye in a clash with Greece, another NATO member? If the Houthis struck Saudi Arabia, would Islamabad and Ankara be required to join a war in Yemen? What if a Saudi–Iranian confrontation escalated?

The pact does not answer.

Ambiguity can deter. An adversary may hesitate if it cannot predict how three countries will respond. But it can also tempt an ally to take risks, expecting support that may not arrive.

Even NATO’s celebrated Article 5 does not automatically send every member to war. It allows each ally to take “such action as it deems necessary.” Political leaders still decide what solidarity means.

The Mecca pact will face the same test. Promises made in a palace are one thing. Keeping them when soldiers may die is another.
The nuclear question no one can avoid

Pakistan’s nuclear weapons hover over every discussion of the agreement.

Has Islamabad quietly placed Saudi Arabia or Türkiye under a nuclear umbrella? Would Pakistan threaten nuclear retaliation if the Saudi state faced an overwhelming attack?


Nothing in the public text says so. Pakistan has announced no nuclear guarantee. No evidence shows it has transferred weapons or control to either partner. Saudi officials insist the agreement is not tied to nuclear ambition or an arms race.

That caution matters. Speculation should not be mistaken for fact.

Saudi Arabia is a non-nuclear member of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. Türkiye is also an NPT member and already participates in NATO’s nuclear arrangements. Any transfer of nuclear weapons would create an international crisis.

But nuclear deterrence depends as much on uncertainty as on published doctrine.

A country considering a devastating attack on Saudi Arabia must ask whether Pakistan would remain uninvolved if the kingdom’s survival were at stake. The absence of an answer may be part of the deterrent.

It may also make the region less safe.

Israel has an undeclared nuclear arsenal. Iran has advanced nuclear capabilities. Pakistan has tested weapons. Türkiye belongs to a nuclear alliance. American forces are spread across the region. Now a new defence pact enters this crowded landscape with unclear nuclear limits.

There is another source of concern. The Trump administration has pursued a civilian nuclear agreement with Saudi Arabia that reportedly drops safeguards Washington previously demanded, including a categorical Saudi renunciation of uranium enrichment and reprocessing and acceptance of the International Atomic Energy Agency’s Additional Protocol.

Reuters reported that arms-control advocates and members of Congress feared that the proposed terms could weaken non-proliferation standards.

A civil nuclear programme is not a nuclear-weapons programme. But in this region, intentions are viewed through a lens of fear. Iran’s capabilities, Pakistan’s arsenal and weaker safeguards around Saudi nuclear development would inevitably be considered together.

A shield built to make Saudi Arabia feel safer could deepen the nuclear anxieties of everyone around it.
Is Iran the enemy—or a neighbour to be reassured?

Because the three signatories are Sunni-majority countries, the pact has often been described as an alliance against Shia-majority Iran.

The timing strengthens that interpretation. Iran and armed groups aligned with it have attacked Saudi interests. Türkiye cooperates with Tehran in some areas while competing with it in Syria, Iraq, Central Asia and the Caucasus. Pakistan shares a difficult border with Iran and has exchanged cross-border strikes with it.


But the relationship cannot be reduced to an old sectarian divide.

Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan says the pact identifies no enemy. Pakistan calls it “purely defensive.” Iranian Foreign Ministry spokesman Esmaeil Baghaei initially responded with caution rather than outrage. Iran, he said, need not fear regional self-reliance if it remained inclusive and addressed the real causes of insecurity.

Hard-line voices in Tehran were less forgiving. They asked how Pakistan could join a defence agreement with Saudi Arabia while claiming to be an honest mediator between Iran and the United States. Others warned Riyadh that a written pact would not guarantee its safety.

Erdoğan then demonstrated how the new allies hope to use their position.

On 17 August, Erdoğan urged Trump to return to talks with Iran and offered Türkiye’s help. Ankara said it would keep working with the United States, Iran, Pakistan, Qatar and other mediators. At the same time, Erdoğan praised the Mecca pact as a contribution to regional security—Reuters reported Türkiye’s attempt to combine deterrence with diplomacy.

Pakistan is trying to do the same.

Field Marshal Munir was due in Tehran on 24 August for talks with senior Iranian officials. The agenda was expected to include Pakistan’s efforts to mediate between Washington and Tehran, the Mecca Agreement, the Houthis and the dispute over the Strait of Hormuz. Reuters reported that the planned visit to Washington would pave the way for another round of punishing sanctions against Iran.

Munir’s visit carries special weight. He is not only Pakistan’s most powerful soldier but also a central figure behind the Mecca pact. Iranian officials will want to hear from him directly: is this alliance a shield, a sword or both?

Pakistan has placed itself in a difficult position. It must persuade Saudi Arabia that it is a dependable defence partner while convincing Iran that it has not joined a hostile front. It must keep Washington engaged without becoming an instrument of American pressure.

The pact’s first serious test may therefore come not on a battlefield but in a room in Tehran. Can Pakistan and Türkiye help deter Iran without making dialogue with Iran impossible?
Egypt stands at the door

Türkiye has made clear it does not want the alliance to remain a three-member club. Egypt is the most obvious prospective member.

Cairo is no longer merely observing. Egyptian Foreign Minister Badr Abdelatty says his government is studying membership “very seriously,” though any decision must fit Egypt’s constitution and legal commitments. Chatham House sees the hesitation as political as well as legal. Egypt has long avoided binding military blocs and wants to preserve its role as mediator. Joining could look like taking sides against Iran, Israel, the UAE, Greece, Cyprus or India without giving Cairo clear security gains. For now, Egypt has reason to wait, watch how the pact works in a crisis and keep its options open.


The Gulf states face the same problem. Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates do not always agree on regional priorities. Qatar and its neighbours recently emerged from a bitter blockade. Oman prizes its independence and role as mediator.

The Mecca pact is therefore unlikely to become a military organisation embracing all 57 members of the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation.

A smaller core is more plausible, surrounded by looser arrangements for tasks: protecting Red Sea shipping, sharing intelligence, coordinating missile defence, countering drones, fighting terrorism and producing weapons.

That may sound less dramatic than an Islamic NATO. It could prove more useful.
China: The Power Outside the Pact

China did not sign the Mecca Agreement, and no evidence shows Beijing designed it. Yet its influence is impossible to ignore.

Pakistan’s “all-weather” partnership with China is one of Asia’s deepest military relationships. Beijing supplies aircraft, missiles, air-defence systems and warships, and the two countries jointly produce the JF-17 fighter. In April, Pakistan commissioned the first of eight planned Chinese-designed Hangor-class submarines, four to be built in Pakistan under a technology-transfer deal. According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute⁠, China supplied 80 per cent of Pakistan’s major arms imports between 2021 and 2025.

The pact could bring Chinese, Turkish and Western systems into the same network. Türkiye offers drones, missiles, electronic warfare and a growing defence industry. Saudi Arabia brings money but still relies mainly on American and other Western equipment. Making these systems work together will require compatible communications, command procedures, maintenance chains and training.

That helps explain why Türkiye’s Defence Ministry has put joint exercises, production, technology cooperation and “sustainable maintenance and logistics support” at the centre of the deal. Reuters reported⁠ that cooperation will span land, sea, air and cyber operations, with attention to drones, electronic warfare and artificial intelligence. Over time, this could create a military-industrial network that Beijing does not control, but that depends less on the West.

China’s economic presence matters too. The China–Pakistan Economic Corridor links western China to Gwadar on the Arabian Sea. China is also a major buyer of Saudi oil and an investor in the kingdom’s infrastructure, telecommunications and renewable energy. Its mediation of the Saudi–Iranian rapprochement in 2023 showed it can exercise influence in a region long dominated by Washington.

Saudi Arabia does not expect China to replace the United States as its military protector, and Beijing has shown little interest in assuming that burden. But China offers trade, investment, technology and another option. Türkiye’s ties with Beijing are more guarded because of NATO, Europe and differences over Uyghurs. Even so, Erdoğan values relationships that widen Ankara’s room for manoeuvre.


Beijing can stay outside the pact and still benefit. It may gain from a less American-centred region, finance infrastructure and supply weapons without defending the alliance. For India, already facing China’s military partnership with Pakistan, that is hardly reassuring.
India has reason to watch—but not to panic

India’s ties with China have steadied slightly. Talks on the disputed frontier have resumed, but the damage from Galwan remains: troops are still deployed, claims unresolved and mistrust deep.

China’s support for Pakistan adds another layer to India’s concerns.

The China–Pakistan Economic Corridor runs through territory India claims. New Delhi sees it as both an economic project and a breach of sovereignty. Indian planners must still weigh pressure from Pakistan and China at once, even if neither side wants a two-front war.

The Mecca pact could connect this tense South Asian picture to West Asian politics.

Pakistani forces, already heavily supplied by China, may gain access to Turkish technology, Saudi money, shared intelligence and joint planning. Such shifts rarely appear overnight; they gather force slowly.

India’s government has said it is examining the pact’s implications for national security and regional stability and will take the necessary steps to protect Indian interests.

New Delhi is right to seek clarity.

Türkiye has backed Pakistan on Kashmir. The two countries cooperate on warships, exercises, training and aircraft modernisation. Saudi Arabia’s 2025 defence agreement with Pakistan laid the ground for the trilateral pact.

In a future crisis, Pakistan could invoke the Mecca Agreement even if Riyadh and Ankara had no wish to fight India.

Would the pact apply only after an unprovoked attack? Could Islamabad invoke it after a terrorist incident or an exchange across the Line of Control? Who would decide who started the conflict?

India is asking those questions quietly without turning concern into panic.

Saudi Arabia’s ties with India have deepened. The kingdom supplies energy, invests in India and hosts a large Indian community. The two governments cooperate on trade, terrorism, technology, maritime security and defence.

Riyadh has no reason to sacrifice this relationship for Pakistan. Saudi foreign policy has become practical and flexible. It can maintain a defence pact with Islamabad while expanding relations with New Delhi.


India appears to be taking the same approach: deepen Gulf ties, seek assurances, monitor Pakistan’s defence links with Türkiye and China, and strengthen its naval presence in the Arabian Sea.

The Ministry of External Affairs has dismissed reports that India sought an urgent mutual-defence pact with Israel as fabricated. India already has close defence ties with Israel. Turning them into an openly anti-Muslim alignment would damage decades of careful diplomacy across the Arab world.

India’s strength has long been its ability to deal with rivals at the same time: Saudi Arabia and Iran, Israel and the Arab states, the United States and Russia.

The Mecca pact makes that balancing act harder—and more necessary.
A promise waiting to be tested

The agreement does not prove that a new regional order has arrived. Its members may find unity easier to declare than to practise.

But it does show that the old order is fading.

Saudi Arabia, Türkiye and Pakistan are not abandoning old relationships; they are adding new ones. They want choices and no longer want security to depend on a single power whose priorities can shift after an election, war or crisis.

Trump sees burden-sharing. China sees opportunity. Iran wants to know whether the pact targets it. Egypt is weighing membership. India is asking whether Pakistan’s reach has grown.

The pact remains several things at once: a shield, a warning, an arms partnership, a diplomatic tool, and a claim to greater independence.

It could make the three countries safer. It could also spread conflicts across regions.

An India–Pakistan crisis could gain a Middle Eastern dimension. A Saudi–Iranian confrontation could draw in Pakistan and Türkiye. A Turkish dispute in the Mediterranean could test commitments Riyadh and Islamabad never expected to keep.

The stronger the alliance becomes, the more restraint it will need.

Its members must define aggression, set clear consultation procedures, keep politics in control of military decisions and clarify where conventional cooperation ends and the nuclear shadow begins.

Mecca produced a dramatic promise: an attack on one will be treated as an attack on all. Weapons, exercises and political machinery now support it. Its meaning, however, will remain uncertain until someone asks the three countries to keep it.

When that day comes, the question will not be what leaders signed in Mecca, but what they are prepared to sacrifice—and whether their shield makes a frightened region safer or gives it new reasons to fear.

About Ramesh Jaura
Ramesh Jaura is a journalist with 60 years of experience as a freelancer, head of Inter Press Service, and founder-editor of IDN-InDepthNews. His work draws on field reporting and coverage of international conferences and events.
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Global breast cancer lifetime risk stands at 1 in 18, with stark disparities between rich and poor nations

China Anti-Cancer Association

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Data were obtained from GLOBOCAN 2022 (185 countries), United Nations population and all-cause mortality data from WHO, and longitudinal data on breast cancer incidence between 2003 and 2017 from CI5 Plus database. The AMP method was used to calculate lifetime risk, which accounts for multiple primary cancers, competing risks from other causes of death, and life expectancy. Analyses estimated lifetime risk across different global regions, countries, age groups, socioeconomic conditions, and menopausal status. The findings showed that the lifetime risk of developing breast cancer was 5.51% and dying from breast cancer was 1.82%. Epidemiologic disparities of breast cancer were noted in different HDI regions and healthcare resource countries globally with pronounced heterogeneity. Countries should implement precise prevention and control measures based on their respective health resources and risk profiles to reduce the global burden of breast cancer. Figure created using Microsoft Office PowerPoint and Adobe Illustrator. (AAPC, average annual percentage change; AMP method, adjusted for multiple primaries method; CI5, cancer incidence in five continents; HDI, Human Development Index).

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Credit: Cancer Biology & Medicine

A comprehensive new study has quantified for the first time the lifetime risk of developing and dying from breast cancer across 185 countries, revealing that 1 in 18 individuals worldwide will be diagnosed with the disease during their lifetime and 1 in 55 will die from it. The research, which used an advanced method that accounts for multiple primary cancers, competing causes of death, and varying life expectancies, found that lifetime risk ranges from less than 1% in some low-income countries to over 16% in wealthier nations. These stark disparities underscore how a woman’s risk of breast cancer is profoundly shaped by where she lives and the resources available to her.

Breast cancer is the most commonly diagnosed cancer and the leading cause of cancer death among women globally, accounting for nearly 2.3 million new cases and 670,000 deaths in 2022 alone. While traditional metrics like annual incidence rates provide a snapshot of disease burden, they do not capture the cumulative probability that an individual will face breast cancer over their entire lifetime. Moreover, the interplay of reproductive patterns, lifestyle factors, screening access, and treatment quality varies enormously across regions with different levels of economic development. Based on these challenges, there is a clear need for a more intuitive, comparable indicator that accounts for life expectancy and competing mortality risks to guide global cancer control strategies.

Now, researchers from institutions including the National Cancer Center of China, the Chinese Academy of Medical Sciences and Peking Union Medical College, the Fourth Hospital of Hebei Medical University, and Beijing University of Chinese Medicine have published (DOI: 10.20892/j.issn.2095-3941.2026.0059) the most comprehensive assessment of breast cancer lifetime risk to date. The study, appearing in Cancer Biology & Medicine, analyzed data from GLOBOCAN 2022, United Nations population statistics, and global health expenditure databases. The team used the adjusted for multiple primaries (AMP) method to calculate lifetime risks across 20 geographic regions, 185 countries, and different age and menopausal status groups.

The global lifetime risk of developing breast cancer from birth to death was 5.51% (95% CI: 5.50%–5.52%), meaning approximately 1 in 18 individuals will receive a diagnosis. The risk of dying from the disease was 1.82% (95% CI: 1.82%–1.83%), or about 1 in 55 individuals. However, these averages mask dramatic variation: in very high Human Development Index (HDI) regions, the lifetime risk of developing breast cancer reached 10.37% — more than 3.5 times the 2.91% risk observed in low HDI regions. Australia and New Zealand had the highest regional risk at 14.98%, while Middle Africa had the lowest at 2.16%. At the country level, Luxembourg topped the list at 16.62%, while Bhutan, Sierra Leone, and Angola had lifetime risks below 1%.

The study also found that the lifetime risk of dying from breast cancer was highest in very high HDI regions (2.70%), followed by low HDI regions (1.70%) — a pattern reflecting both higher incidence in wealthy countries and poorer survival outcomes in resource-limited settings. Temporal trend analysis across 36 countries with long-term surveillance data showed significant increases in lifetime risk in 32 countries between 2003 and 2017, with the steepest rises in the Republic of Korea [average annual percentage change (AAPC) of 5.84%] and Japan (5.21%).

"These findings show that breast cancer is not a single global disease but a collection of different epidemics shaped by economic development, health system capacity, and demographic structure," the authors said. "In high-income countries, the challenge is managing a high lifetime risk driven by lifestyle and reproductive factors, while in low-income regions, the priority must be improving early detection and treatment access to reduce the unacceptably high proportion of deaths among younger women. The 3.5-fold gap in diagnosis risk and the reversal of mortality patterns across HDI levels tell us that one-size-fits-all approaches will fail — each country needs a strategy tailored to its own risk profile and resources."

The lifetime risk estimates provide an intuitive tool for health communication and policy planning. For very high HDI countries, the findings support refining screening strategies for postmenopausal women, who account for nearly 72% of the lifetime risk in these regions. For low and middle HDI countries, where premenopausal and perimenopausal women contribute disproportionately to the breast cancer burden, the study suggests initiating screening at younger ages — around 40 or 45 — and strengthening diagnostic and treatment capacity. With breast cancer incidence rising in most countries, these data offer an evidence-based foundation for allocating limited health resources to where they can have the greatest impact on reducing global breast cancer inequities.

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References

DOI

10.20892/j.issn.2095-3941.2026.0059

Original Source URL

https://doi.org/10.20892/j.issn.2095-3941.2026.0059

Funding information

This work was supported by Capital’s Funds for Health Improvement and Research (CFH2024-2G-40214), the CAMS Innovation Fund for Medical Sciences (2021-I2M-1-011), and the National Natural Science Foundation of China (82274608).

About Cancer Biology & Medicine

Cancer Biology & Medicine (CBM) is a peer-reviewed open-access journal sponsored by China Anti-cancer Association (CACA) and Tianjin Medical University Cancer Institute & Hospital. The journal monthly provides innovative and significant information on biological basis of cancer, cancer microenvironment, translational cancer research, and all aspects of clinical cancer research. The journal also publishes significant perspectives on indigenous cancer types in China. The journal is indexed in SCOPUS, MEDLINE and SCI (IF 12.4), with all full texts freely visible to clinicians and researchers all over the world.

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Journal

Cancer Biology & Medicine

DOI

10.20892/j.issn.2095-3941.2026.0059 

Subject of Research

Not applicable

Article Title

Global patterns, temporal trends and socioeconomic inequalities in the burden of breast cancer: a population-based study across 185 countries