A new world order isn’t coming, it’s already here − and this is what it looks like

编者：俄国侵乌，招致众怒。美国本当借此良机，外和盟友，内振军工，打击专制集团，捍卫国际秩序。可惜特朗普的上台，让世界重回强权。一极和两极都不长久，三极会稳定一些吗？

On Sept. 3, 2025, China celebrated the 80th anniversary of its victory over Japan by staging a carefully choreographed event in which 26 world leaders were offered a podium view of Beijing’s impressive military might.

The show of strength was deliberate and reignited a debate in Western media over whether we are on the cusp of a China-centric “new world order” to replace the U.S.-dominated international “rules-based order.”

But as someone who writes about geopolitics, I believe we are already there. It might be in flux, and the U.S. still has a big role in it, but a new world order has begun – and as it develops, it will look increasingly different than what it’s replacing.

A brief history of world orders

Global history can be understood as the rise and fall of different orders, defined as a given era’s dominant power relations and attendant institutions and norms.

From 1815 to 1880, the United Kingdom was the undisputed world superpower, with an empire and navy that spanned the globe. The period from 1880 to 1945 was one of imperial rivalries as other countries – largely European and the U.S. – sought to copy Britain’s success and replace its dominance. Supplanting that was the bipolar world of two competing superpowers, the Soviet Union and the U.S., marking the period from 1945 to 1991.

The fall of the Soviet Union was the beginning of a brief period, from 1991 to 2008, of a unipolar world centered on U.S. global dominance, military power and economic might. With the retreat of global communism, the U.S. increased its influence, and that of the international rules-based order it helped establish after 1945, through institutions such as the World Trade Organization, World Bank and International Monetary Fund.

It did not last long in the face of a long war on terrorism, the fiasco of the invasion of Iraq, the long occupation of Afghanistan and finally the 2008 global financial crisis that undermined U.S. strength and weakened domestic support for Washington’s role as the world’s policeman.

Toward a multipolar world

In recent years, a new multipolar world has emerged with at least four distinct sources of power.

The U.S. remains central to this world order. It is blessed with a huge territory, a dynamic economy and the strategic luxury of large oceans on its east and west and much smaller powers to its north and south. The U.S. had a global military presence in the previous bipolar and unipolar order. But the cost of this imperial overstretch has prompted Washington to shift the cost burden toward its former allies, leading to a new militarization in Europe and East Asia where most countries now aim to increase military spending.

There is also a change in economic arrangements. In the unipolar order, the U.S. promoted a frictionless free trade arrangement and economic globalization. This resulted in the global shift of manufacturing that in turn created a populist backlash in those countries where manufacturing employment was hollowed out.

Now, economic nationalism is becoming a much more common refrain than free trade. Long the promoter of purportedly open markets, the U.S. is now leading the way in resurrecting tariff barriers to levels that haven’t been seen on the global stage in decades.

The military realignments and growing trade barriers will make it increasingly difficult to assemble durable alliances. In the short term the U.S. can leverage its existing power to its advantage, but over the long term other countries will likely pivot away from too much reliance on the U.S. The American Century that publishing magnate Henry Luce famously described in 1941 has to all intents and purposes come to an end.

China is now a peer competitor to the U.S. in both economic and military power. Increasingly, under the powerful leadership of Xi Jinping, China openly seeks a more Sino-centric world order with institutions and a global arrangement to match. To that end, it is assembling an axis of resistance to a U.S.-dominated world order. Russia, suffering from post-imperial syndrome, is an important member but not an equal partner.

Russian power is limited to establishing a Eurasian sphere of influence across its former Soviet republics and disrupting liberal democracies. But in that, Russia is more of a spoiler than an architect of the new order.

And then there is Europe, facing what British Prime Minister Keir Starmer referred to as a “generational challenge” as the U.S. pivots away from Europe toward the Indo-Pacific just as Russia poses a more serious threat to Europe, especially for its easternmost states.

Europe is remilitarizing after decades of demilitarizing. Sweden and Finland joined NATO in 2023 and 2024, respectively. In the coming decades, Europe could emerge as an independent source of both economic and military power with a different agenda from the U.S. – more keen to confront Russia, less willing to support Israel, and perhaps more willing to engage with China.

But all three power centers – the U.S., China and Europe – will struggle with similar and unique internal challenges.

All of them have sluggish economies and aging populations. The U.S. faces growing inequality and political instability as it shifts from a liberal democracy to competitive authoritarianism. China has an untested military, a looming demographic crisis, a faltering economy and a forthcoming succession struggle.

Finally, Europe is beset with a nationalist populism and growing social welfare costs just as military expenditures are set to increase.

The growth of the Global South

This threefold division is strangely reminiscent of the tripartite global division in George Orwell’s “1984,” where Oceania, Eurasia and Eastasia fought a permanent war of shifting alliances.

But Orwell was writing at a time when much of what is now called the Global South was either under the informal or formal control of the superpowers. That is no longer the case in the Global South, especially in the case of the larger countries such as Brazil, India and Indonesia.

The Global South is not yet a coherent bloc, more an informal arrangement of independent actors that tend to hedge between the major powers.

A world in flux

Yet none of this new global reality means that things are now fixed. Indeed, the new world order is in a state of disruptive flux that promises years of growing pains. Both the U.S. and China need allies, and countries in the Global South will continue to hedge between the competing powers.

As such, the world is in for a process of constant jostling as the major powers seek alliances while dealing with domestic pressures. In that messy status quo, many questions remain: Who will be most effective in building durable alliances? Will China manage its internal challenges? Will Europe get its act together? Will Russia continue its disruptive ways? Could a post-Trump U.S., post-Putin Russia and post-Xi China move the world in yet a different direction altogether?

And there is one large question above all others: Can the major powers manage their competition through shared global interests, such as combating climate change, environmental pollution and pandemic threats? Or will mounting conflict in the newly contested areas of the Arctic, cyberspace, outer space and the oceanic realm, and in ongoing geopolitical hot spots provide the trigger for outright conflict?

All world orders come to an end. The hope is the old one is doing so with a whimper rather than a bang.

How Russia keeps raising an army to replace its dead

编者：如果民主不能战胜专制，民主又有什么意义呢？

For Russian men, war now advertises itself like any other job.

Offers for front-line contracts appear on the messaging app Telegram alongside group chats and news alerts, promising signing bonuses of up to $50,000 — life-changing money in a country where average monthly wages remain below $1,000. The incentives go beyond cash, with pledges of debt relief and free childcare for soldiers’ families and guaranteed university places for their children. Criminal records, illness and even HIV are no longer automatic disqualifiers. For many men with little to lose, the front has become an employer of last resort.

Behind the flood of offers is a coordinated recruitment system run through Russia’s more than 80 regional governments. Pressured by the Kremlin to deliver manpower, the regions have become de-facto hiring hubs, competing with one another for contract soldiers. What began as a wartime fix has hardened into a quasi-commercial headhunting industry powered by federal bonuses and local budgets. Regional authorities contract HR agencies, which in turn deploy freelance recruiters to advertise online, screen applicants and shepherd men through enlistment paperwork.

Any Russian citizen can now work as a wartime recruiter, with many operating as freelance headhunters who earn commissions for delivering bodies to the front. Axel Springer Global Reporters Network, which includes POLITICO, reviewed recruitment channels across Russia and interviewed multiple recruits and recruiters for this report.

This labor defense market is being closely studied in Western capitals, where the continued growth of Russia’s army — despite having around 1 million soldiers killed or severely wounded since 2022 — has stunned intelligence services and vexed diplomats, who see the increase as crucial to understanding the country’s posture in peace negotiations and the possibility of future expansion into neighboring territory.

“Assuming that Putin is able to continue to fund the enormous enlistment bonuses (and death payments, too) and to find the manpower currently enticed to serve,” former CIA Director David Petraeus told POLITICO, Russia “can sustain the kind of costly, grinding campaign that has characterized the fighting in Ukraine since the last major achievements on either side in the second year of the war.”

Russia’s ability to sustain manpower levels amid massive battlefield losses helps explain why, four years into the invasion, Vladimir Putin appears more convinced than ever that he can force Ukraine to accept his terms — whether through diplomacy or a grinding war of attrition. Speaking to Russian journalists last week, Putin made clear the war would end only if Ukrainian forces withdrew from the territories Russia claims — otherwise, he warned, Moscow would impose its terms “by armed force.”

A Marketplace for Soldiers

When Russia invaded Ukraine in early 2022, Olga and her husband Alexander were running a small hiring operation in Moscow — placing construction workers, security guards and couriers in civilian jobs. About 18 months ago, they pivoted to something far more lucrative via Russia’s main classified ads platform: recruiting riflemen, drone operators and other soldiers for the war.

“Our daughter saw a job ad on Avito looking for recruiters, and that’s how it all started,” Olga told POLITICO in a series of voice messages over WhatsApp. Her profile picture displays the Russian coat of arms. (Olga and Alexander’s surname has been withheld to protect their anonymity under fear of governmental reprisal.)

As what it once expected to be a blitz has become a war of exhaustion, the Kremlin has reengineered its mobilization accordingly. In September 2022, Putin announced what he called a “partial mobilization” of 300,000 reservists, triggering a surge of public anger and emigration as hundreds of thousands fled the country to avoid being sent to fight. At the same time, the state opened its prison gates to the battlefield, luring inmates into uniform with promises of clemency and pay.

The approach worked, establishing a new blueprint: less coercion, more cash. To bring in volunteers who would not qualify for the draft because of age, health or lack of prior military service, the Kremlin targeted society’s most vulnerable — from prisoners to migrant workers and indebted men — by raising wages, offering lavish signing bonuses and selling military service as a path to dignity and survival. In September 2024, Putin formalized the strategy by ordering that the armed forces grow to 1.5 million active-duty troops. The sales pitch changed, too: subpoenas and summonses were replaced by money, benefits and appeals to manhood.

“These measures target a specific demographic: socially vulnerable men,” says political scientist Ekaterina Schulmann, who studies Russian government decision-making as a lecturer at the Osteuropa Institute in Berlin. “Men with debts, criminal records, little financial literacy — or those trapped by predatory microcredit. People on the margins, with no prospects.”

For several months, Alexander and Olga worked for a company they found through Avito before going independent and growing their business. “Now recruiters work for us — 10 people,” Olga said.

The couple do most of their headhunting on the messaging app Telegram, across a vast ecosystem of channels now devoted to wartime hiring. In one group with more than 96,000 subscribers and a profile picture labeled “WORKING,” as many as 40 recruitment ads are posted per day, advertising openings for infantrymen and drone pilots alongside detailed bonus offers from rival regions.

Each post is essentially a wage bid. While wages remain generally constant, the regions typically compete for workers by bidding up the value of labor through incentives like signing bonuses. While the Kremlin last year introduced a minimum bonus benchmark of 400,000 rubles ($5,170) via presidential decree, the amounts on offer now fluctuate wildly. Recruiters steer applicants to whichever territory is currently paying best.

“We help with documents and put them in touch with regional officials,” Olga explained. “And then we pray — that they come back alive and well.”

The couple declined to say how much they earn per recruit. But, as with bonuses offered to volunteers, recruiter pay appears to vary widely by region. Another recruiter who spoke to POLITICO confirmed figures previously published by the independent Russian outlet Verstka, which put commissions at between $1,280 and $3,800 per signed contract.

Russian regions are tapping reserve funds to maintain recruitment levels. According to a review by independent outlet iStories, just 11 regions had budgeted at least $25.5 million on recruiter payments — amounts comparable to regional spending on health care and social services.

An analysis by economist Janis Kluge of the German Institute for International and Security Affairs, based on data from 37 regions, shows that average signing bonuses have now climbed to roughly $25,850, including federal payments. In early 2025, increased incentives triggered a surge of volunteers. In places like Samara, bonuses rose to more than $50,000 in summer, enough to buy a two-bedroom apartment. (In some regions, bonuses have recently fallen, which likely indicates they successfully recruited an above-average number of volunteers and had already met their quotas.)

For many families, military service has become one of the few routes to upward mobility. In many regions, weak local labor markets leave few alternatives. The more precarious the economic outlook, the stronger the recruitment pipeline.

“This kind of money can completely transform a Russian family’s life,” said Kluge. “The program works surprisingly well, but it has become far more expensive for the Kremlin.”

How the War Was Staffed

This recruiting machine helps to bring roughly 30,000 volunteers into the Russian armed services each month, enough to offset its heavy casualty rate and sustain long-term operations. The Washington-based Center for Strategic and International Studies estimated this summer that Russia had lost about 1 million killed and wounded — in line with estimates from British and Ukrainian officials.

Moscow is not relying solely on volunteers to fill its ranks. A law signed several weeks ago shifts Russia’s conscription system — which drafts medically fit men aged 18 to 30 not yet serving in the reserve — from biannual cycles to year-round processing. Experts say the change effectively creates a permanent recruitment infrastructure, enabling the Defense Ministry to funnel more people into the armed forces.

“They are moving forward, but they don’t care about the number of people they lose,” said Andriy Yermak, who as head of the Ukrainian Presidential Office served as the country’s leading peace negotiator before resigning Friday amid a corruption investigation. “It’s important to understand that we are a democratic country, and we are fighting against an autocratic one. In Russia, a person’s life costs nothing.”

Ukrainian units, by contrast, are stretched thin; in many places, they can barely hold the line. Ukrainian officers told POLITICO that in parts of the eastern front, there are as many as seven Russian soldiers for every one of theirs. This dynamic has been exacerbated by tens of thousands of Ukrainian soldiers who, over the past year, have left their posts without authorization or abandoned military service altogether.

Russia’s personnel advantage is one reason its army now seizes Ukrainian land every month roughly equivalent in size to the city of Atlanta. As Kyiv relinquishes territory, it has worked to expand foreign recruitment, drawing volunteers from across the Americas and Europe.

German security officials say Putin is well-positioned to hit a declared target of a 1.5 million–troop army next year. That rapid industrial and military build-up has rattled European policymakers, who increasingly see it as preparation for military action beyond Ukraine.

“Russia is continuing to build up its army and is mobilizing on a scale that suggests a larger military confrontation with additional European states,” says German Bundestag member Roderich Kiesewetter, a security expert from Chancellor Friedrich Merz’s party.

A Fighter by Necessity

Anton didn’t join the military because he believed in the war. He slipped into the army after a financial collapse. By the time the 44-year-old father of three from the Moscow region walked into a military recruitment office last year, he felt he had run out of options. He was unemployed, drowning in debt and facing a possible prison sentence over a fraud case that made finding legal work nearly impossible. (Anton’s name was changed to protect his anonymity under fear of governmental reprisal.)

Opening Telegram, he also kept seeing persistent ads promising lavish bonuses. “My wife was on maternity leave, my mother is retired — the family depended on me,” Anton told POLITICO in voice messages sent over Telegram. “During one argument, my wife said: ‘It would be better if you went to war.’ A month and a half later, I signed the contract. It felt like the only way out.” In Anton’s case, no recruiter was involved — he went to the recruitment center on his own.

The contract promised Anton about $2,650 a month, plus a signing bonus from the Moscow region of roughly $2,460, more than 10 times what he had earned under the table as a warehouse worker and courier. He was dispatched to the Pokrovsk sector in Ukraine’s Donetsk region, at a remove from direct combat — though, as he puts it, under “occasional shelling” — keeping his unit’s drones operational.

There, said Anton, he met many men who, like him, had been unable to make ends meet in civilian life. “Some are paying alimony, some were sent by creditors to work off their debts,” Anton said. “There’s no patriotic talk here — no ‘for victory’ or ‘for Putin.’ Nobody speaks like that. Everyone is tired. Everyone just wants to go home.”

In July 2025, Anton received a state decoration for his service, which may help clear his criminal record. “That was another reason I signed,” he said. “It was the only way to avoid prosecution — either die or earn a medal.”

Eluding prison time remains a strong motivator for many. A relative of a missing soldier from the Moscow region described how 28-year-old Ivan, a cook, was arrested for drug trafficking in 2025. “He signed the military service declaration in custody and asked the court to replace his sentence with service,” the relative said. Within a week, he was deployed to the front. Ivan disappeared in April after less than a month in combat. His wife and 1-year-old son have heard nothing since. (Ivan’s name was changed at the family’s request, for fear of retribution.)

While tens of thousands have enlisted from Russia’s wealthiest urban centers, according to official databases and analysts, most recruits come from Russia’s economically depressed regions, where life has long been defined by poverty, crime and alcoholism.

“For many men, this is the last opportunity to build a life that feels meaningful,” said Alexander Baunov of the Carnegie Russia Eurasia Center. “Instead of dying as failures in their families’ eyes, they die as heroes on the front.”

For the men volunteering — often treated as expendable by their commanders — the war has become a high-risk lottery for a better life. Survival brings transformative earnings. Even severe injuries come with fixed payouts: roughly $12,000 for a broken finger and $36,000 for a shattered foot.

During brief trips closer to the front to deliver equipment, Anton says he was repeatedly targeted by Ukrainian drones. On one occasion, one exploded just meters from him. Even that narrow escape wasn’t enough to make him reconsider.

“My financial situation improved significantly. It may sound sad, but for me personally, signing the contract made my life better,” Anton says. “The hardest part is being far from my children. But even knowing that, I would do it all over again.”