US President Donald Trump’s attempt to “grab” Greenland constitutes a neo-colonial effort by a global “sheriff” who clearly does not respect the island’s national sovereignty and fundamental human rights.

Thus, demonstrations took place in the capital Nuuk – the largest demonstrations in Greenland’s history – and Copenhagen, with slogans such as “Greenland is not for sale” and “Greenland belongs to the Greenlanders”, and which highlighted the will for self-determination. At the same time, polls show that about 85% of Greenlanders reject the prospect of joining the US. Greenland’s 34-year-old Prime Minister Jens-Frederik Nielsen, moreover, has described the pressure as “disrespectful” and has called for an end to threats and rhetoric about annexation “among friends.”

The Prime Minister of Denmark, Mette Frederiksen, speaking in Parliament on Tuesday, January 20, 2026, stated the following: “This is a dark chapter we are in” and clarified that “Denmark cannot negotiate sovereignty, identity, borders and democracy.”

The subsequent retreat of US President Donald Trump on plans to use military force to occupy Greenland and the cancellation of additional tariffs on eight European NATO member states that opposed his plans to acquire the island is phenomenal because his aggressive, conquering dispositions have not in essence diminished at all, while the “rift” in the Euro-Atlantic axis has become deep, testing the cohesion of the Western world.

But let’s see what Greenland’s data is and why it is so important island. Greenland is the largest island on our planet with an area of ​​2,166,086 square kilometers, since Australia, although larger in area, is considered a continent and not an island. At the same time, it is currently an autonomous island and is a member of the Kingdom of Denmark, which, it should be noted, has been a member of NATO and an ally of the United States, since 1721.

Greenland was a Danish colony until 1953. Since that year, it has been a county of Denmark. It has been self-governing since 1979, and in 2009 it was granted even greater autonomy, with the right to exploit its natural resources, a move that many saw as paving the way for eventual full independence.

The head of state is King Frederick X of Denmark (since 14 January 2024), who is represented by a high commissioner. The head of government is the prime minister, who is elected by Parliament. The cabinet is also elected by Parliament, called Landstinget. The 31 members of Parliament are elected by the system of simple proportionality in multi-member constituencies by the people and their term of office lasts 4 years. Anyone aged 18 or over has the right to vote in elections.

The majority of the population, which amounts to approximately 56,000, are Inuit (Eskimos), who came into mixing with the first European settlers (of Danish and Norwegian origin) and speak Greenlandic and Danish.

This Arctic island is geographically located in North America, while culturally, demographically and politically Greenland is an island linked to Europe. To the southeast of Greenland are the Atlantic Ocean and Iceland, to the east the Greenland Sea, to the north the Arctic Ocean and to the west Baffin Bay and Canada.

Most of the island, i.e. about 80% of Greenland’s surface, which corresponds to 1,700,000 square kilometers, is covered by a huge ice sheet. Only the southwestern and southeastern coastal zones, which correspond to the remaining 20%, are not covered by ice. It is the only free and inhabited area, but bare, with many rocks, fjords and islets. For two months every summer it experiences the “Midnight Sun” with continuous light, while in winter it experiences the “Polar Night” with continuous darkness.

Greenland does not have a developed road network connecting towns and villages. Transportation is mainly by sea and air, with airports and heliports throughout the country. On land, transportation is by snowmobile and sled.

The economy of the island, whose currency is the Danish krone and whose GDP is estimated by the World Bank to be between $3.5 and $4 billion, is based on fishing, which accounts for 95% of Greenland’s exports, and fish processing, which is a major industrial activity. A few residents also engage in limited farming on the southwestern coast, where cattle, sheep and poultry are raised.

Greenland is therefore not rich in the conventional sense and given that its resources are largely underutilized. Its economy is small and in order to “survive” it receives an annual subsidy of 520 million euros from Denmark – that is, about 9,000 euros per inhabitant. This is also why many on the island are hesitant to demand immediate independence from Denmark, which has shown colonial behavior in the past.

Greenland also has deposits of gold, uranium and coal. According to recent research, there are also deposits of oil and natural gas. Its territory also contains large deposits of rare earths. According to reliable data, 25 of the 34 minerals that the European Commission has classified as “critical raw materials” are found on the island.

The US, however, does not see Greenland simply as a repository of raw materials, but as an island with strategic value that ensures access, surveillance, and defense over the North Atlantic and Arctic corridors.

Militarily, the US already maintains the Pituffik Space Base in northwestern Greenland, near the city of Kanak – one of the northernmost cities in the world. The base hosts early warning radars, integrated into the US missile defense network, and operates as an advanced part of the NORAD system to detect ballistic missile launches crossing the Arctic.

Denmark, for its part, is constantly strengthening its presence in the region with new warships, drones and satellite infrastructure.

In closing, I would like to emphasize that the only ones competent to decide on the fate and future of the island are the inhabitants of Greenland. It is not possible for our world, the international community, to be allowed to turn into a world where the principles of international law are blatantly violated, turning it into a tattered paper, and in which the law of the jungle, that is, the right of the strong, will prevail. Therefore, every democratically and rationally thinking person cannot help but shout loudly: “Trump, hands off Greenland.”

Isidoros Karderinis, journalist, foreign press correspondent accredited by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, regular member of the Foreign Press Correspondents’ Association of Greece, novelist, poet and lyricist. Facebook: Karderinis Isidoros

At the beginning of this year, I noticed a growing trend on social media: people sharing moments of “Becoming Chinese” in their lives. They replace iced drinks with warm water, practice Baduanjin, explore the wisdom of traditional Chinese medicine, cook home-style Chinese dishes, and reassess the pace of their daily lives in search of a more balanced way of living. Many of these videos end with a simple yet heartfelt declaration: “You met me at a very Chinese time in my life.”

What we are witnessing is more than an online trend. It is a resonance that transcends language, culture, and geography—people finding inspiration to enrich their present lives within each other’s civilizations.

Having worked in Africa for many years, I can also say with pride, “You met me at a very African time in my life.” Here, culture is not an abstract concept, but a lived experience shaped day by day. Injera, Ethiopia’s traditional food, made from naturally fermented teff flour, is not only distinctive in flavor but also beneficial for digestion. It has long become one of my favorite dishes. The Afrobeat song “Chanel” by South African singer Tyla, has sparked a dance challenge on Chinese social media, where young people have engaged in a cross-cultural dialogue through movement and rhythm.

Africa is also becoming an increasingly popular destination for Chinese tourists. From the echoes of history at Egypt’s pyramids to the vibrant life of Kenya’s savannah and the turquoise waters and white sands of Mauritius, more and more Chinese travelers are exploring this vast continent. By walking its lands and immersing themselves in its cultures, they come to better understand Africa—and, along the way, rediscover the world and themselves.

Cultural exchanges occur time and again over meals, through music and dance, and during journeys. These seemingly ordinary yet genuine interactions form the most solid and warm foundation of China-Africa people-to-people exchanges. 2026 marks the China-Africa Year of People-to-People Exchanges, an important consensus reached by President Xi Jinping and African leaders. Nearly 600 exchange activities will be held throughout the year, bringing together youth, cultural, media, and other sectors, covering a wide range of China-Africa engagement and further strengthening public support for China-Africa friendship.

Member of the Political Bureau of the CPC Central Committee and Foreign Minister Wang Yi attended the launching ceremony of the 2026 China-Africa Year of People-to-People Exchanges at the African Union headquarters, read out a congratulatory letter from President Xi Jinping and delivered a keynote speech.

This year also marks the 70th anniversary of the establishment of diplomatic relations between China and Africa. The world today is undergoing accelerated transformation unseen in a century, and global challenges become more prominent. The Global South, represented by China and Africa, is developing and rising irresistibly. Both China and Africa are at a critical stage of their respective development and revitalization. Recently, China has continued the tradition of making Africa the destination of the Chinese foreign minister’s first overseas trip in a new year. This visit inherit the traditional China-Africa friendship, reflects the consistency of China’s policy toward Africa, valuable certainty to the world, and demonstrates the solidarity of developing countries.

You met us at a very African and Chinese time in our shared journey. I firmly believe that, by taking the launch of the China-Africa Year of People-to-People Exchanges as an opportunity, both sides will promote civilizations to transcend estrangement through exchanges, and to transcend clashes through mutual learning by upholding their original aspiration of friendship and solidify the foundation of cooperation.

In doing so, we will continue to enhance the substance of the all-weather China-Africa community with a shared future for the new era, and jointly embrace a brighter future for China-Africa relations and the Global South.

JIANG Feng is Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary of the People’s Republic of China to the African Union and Representative of China to the United Nations Economic Commission for Africa

The morning sun did not so much rise over the Bole Lemi Industrial Park as it ignited the landscape. It beat down with a tangible force on the endless corrugated tin roofs, setting the very air above them to shimmering like a mirage. Stepping from my car, the heat was a physical wall, but it was the sound that truly defined the space – a deep, industrial hum that seemed to vibrate up from the earth itself, the bass note of our nation’s economic ambition. The true cost of a nation’s ambition is not measured in cement or steel, but in the quiet, midday moments within its factory walls. I learned this lesson not in a boardroom, but on a bench in the shade of the Bole Lemi Special Economic Zone.

We often hear about the engines of industry – innovation, automation, lean processes. We rarely talk about the most fundamental engine of all – the human body and mind that show up to work every day. And what fuels it. We have built a national brand on a potent phrase: “abundant, cheap, active and trainable labour.” It headlines our investment brochures and slides effortlessly into pitches to foreign capital. Demographically, it is an unassailable truth – we are a sea of youthful potential, one of the youngest populations on the planet. For years, I, as a consultant, have used this phrase as a cornerstone.

At one interview session I had with a factory worker inside the park, I learnt a different story. A story that meant a lot. Aster, 22, has the deft hands of a born assembler. Yet, as she confessed to me during a break, her greatest daily battle isn’t meeting quotas – it is the “three o’clock fog.” Her day, fueled by coffee and a starch-heavy canteen plate, left her mind blurring numbers and her willpower depleted by mid-afternoon. “I am here,” she said, “but my strength is gone.” In her words, I heard the silent, staggering inefficiency hiding within our most touted economic phrase: “cheap, abundant labor.”

This is the foundational flaw. We have built our industrial ascent on a demographic truth – a youthful population – while willfully ignoring the biological reality that sustains it. Labor that is undernourished is not cheap. It is astronomically expensive, plagued by presenteeism, absenteeism, and crippling turnover. My assessment as a consultant was the fact that we were running our most vital economic engines on the wrong fuel.

We celebrate initiatives like school feeding programs, and rightly so. Turning hundreds of thousands of children back into classrooms is a monumental achievement. Government, investors and companies supporting such work deserve praise as they are planting seeds for a future harvest of talent and stability. They are investing in the country’s tomorrow. Yet, we must ask a harder question about today. What happens when those nourished children grow into the workforce we proudly call “cheap”? Imagine that worker now. She is a salaried employee in a factory, having moved from a neighboring town. Her wage, while competitive on a global cost spreadsheet, allows her to barely afford a single room and perhaps two modest meals a day. Even if she receives a subsidized plate at the worksite, what is the nutritional weight of the food she can afford for herself and her family after hours? The math of survival often defaults to empty calories—enough to stave off hunger, but nowhere near enough to fuel excellence.

This is where our “cheap labor” narrative collides with a costly reality. What investors are sold as a low-cost advantage often metastasizes into a silent, persistent drain. A high turnover, as depleted workers seek any marginal improvement elsewhere; rampant absenteeism due to preventable illness; and the ghost in the machine – presenteeism – where bodies are at work but minds and energies are fogged by malnutrition and fatigue. You are not paying for a unit of labor; you are renting a diminished version of human potential. The “cheap” input becomes an expensive problem, eroding productivity, quality, and innovation from within.

The business case for a fundamental shift is irrefutable. We must evolve our national pitch from

“cheap labor” to “productive, resilient, and capable workforce.” This is not a soft-hearted appeal to charity. It is a hard-nosed strategy for competitive advantage and retention. The most forwardthinking investors already see this. They understand that the foundation of a reliable supply chain is not just machinery, but the health of the people who operate it. They recognize that the return on investment in workforce nutrition – figures like $15 back for every $1 spent – is not corporate social responsibility. It is operational excellence.

And this is where the story pivots from diagnosis to blueprint. In factories that have chosen a different path, a quiet transformation is underway. It begins with a shift in perspective: seeing the canteen not as a cost center, but as a vital infrastructure project. I have seen this firsthand through collaborative efforts that bring technical expertise directly to the factory floor. The process is pragmatic. First, stakeholders are aligned around a simple, data-backed truth: a well-nourished worker is a better worker. Then, the real work begins – not with complex theory, but with practical action.

Canteen menus are quietly revamped, not by fiat, but through collaboration with cooks and managers. The goal is not exotic food, but smarter food: introducing fortified oils, balancing plates with accessible proteins and local vegetables, and ensuring the meals provide sustained energy, not just fleeting fullness. This is paired with something even more powerful: nutrition education. Workers are not told what to eat. They are engaged in understanding why – knowledge that travels home with them.

This operational excellence, this fundamental re-engineering of the workplace ecosystem, did not emerge from a vacuum. It was catalyzed by a clear-eyed partnership with technical experts who understood both the science of nutrition and the mechanics of a factory floor. The Global Alliance for Improved Nutrition (GAIN) provided the crucial initial spark and framework, demonstrating that such transformation is not only possible but profitable. They helped bridge the gap between evidence and execution, showing how to systematically bring factories on board, translate nutritional science into revamped canteen menus, and embed education so workers become advocates for their own health. Their role was to prove the model, creating a replicable blueprint for turning the canteen from a cost center into a cornerstone of productivity and well-being.

Aster’s story doesn’t have to be the default. It can be the “before.” The “after” is a worker who finishes her shift with energy, whose health costs her family less, and whose consistent focus adds tangible value to her company. The path forward is clear, but it requires moving from successful pilot projects to standard operating procedure. To secure this future, we need more than corporate goodwill. We need structural commitment. 

It is time for policymakers to enact smart bylaws and incentives that make workforce nutrition a baseline standard, not a luxury. This could mean integrating basic nutritional criteria into the licensing for industrial canteens, offering streamlined permits or tax recognitions for factories that achieve certified “Well-Nourished Workplace” status, or providing technical support for small and medium enterprises to adopt these practices. We must champion a new class of investor and a new kind of industrial policy – one that recognizes that the ultimate infrastructure is human well-being. Let us stop selling cheapness and start marketing proven, nourished productivity. Let us build an economy where the worker is not an input to be depleted, but a partner to be invested in. The returns, as the most visionary factories are proving, are the ones that truly build a nation.

Befikadu Eba is Founder and Managing Director of Erudite Africa Investments, a former Banker with strong interests in Economics, Private Sector Development, Public Finance and Financial Inclusion. He is reachable at befikadu.eba@eruditeafrica.com.

Today’s global political landscape does not clearly favour the old rules, nor does it seem committed to building a new, stable world order. Instead, it increasingly reflects a diffuse, often chaotic tilt — where long‑standing principles like those embodied in the UN Security Council and other global rulebooks are eroding in practice, even if they remain in place in theory.

The world today feels overwhelming: multiple active conflicts, civil wars, and intensifying geopolitical rivalries dominate the headlines at the same time. There is Israel vs. Hamas in Gaza, the U.S.-Israel-Iran triangle, Russia’s war in Ukraine, the Sudan conflict, tensions in Somalia and Pakistan, U.S.-Venezuela friction, and many others. This is not just a list of separate crises; it is a symptom of a deeper disorder.

The deeper challenge is that current global dynamics are shaped by power diffusion — a multipolar system where power is no longer concentrated in a single hegemon or bloc, but spread across competing states and blocs. In this system, trade, technology, and security evolve along mismatched, overlapping tracks, and ad‑hoc alliances often matter more than long‑standing norms or institutions.

Global trade is increasingly shaped outside the WTO framework, whether through new U.S. tariffs, regional trade tussles, or bilateral deals driven by the U.S. and China. At the same time, the “Eastern” model — led by China and Russia and increasingly by the BRICS group — pushes economic relations through bilateral and plurilateral deals, new development finance, and infrastructure corridors, often bypassing traditional Western‑led institutions and their rules.

The conflicts themselves vary widely: by duration, by cause, and by geography. Some are long‑standing “grinds” over land, resources, or identity; others are sudden escalations driven by strategic miscalculation or power vacuums. What they share is that no single global order imposes clear constraints; instead, the absence of hierarchy only amplifies unpredictability.

No area shows this fragmentation more clearly than technology. The world’s two dominant tech ecosystems — the Western bloc (led by the U.S.) and the Sino‑Russian bloc — are developing under different rules and values. The U.S. and its allies emphasize market‑driven innovation bounded by liberal‑democratic norms. China and Russia, in turn, pursue state‑coordinated strategies, embedding socialist core values and “civilizational defence” into their tech development.

Emerging economies, including Ethiopia and many African and Global South countries, are carving out their own paths, blending elements of East and West to create new models of political and economic relations. The result is a value‑based fragmentation of technology: incompatible systems, competing standards, and parallel infrastructures (like the U.S.-led Artemis and the China‑Russia ILRS in lunar exploration) that limit access to each other’s tools and slow down overall scientific progress.

This fragmentation duplicates effort, limits cross‑pollination of ideas, and makes it harder to build truly global standards, especially in sensitive areas like artificial intelligence and cyber norms. AI systems are increasingly coded to reflect specific political values, which makes interoperability and mutual trust far more difficult.

In this diffuse landscape, traditional alliances are under strain. The old idea of a fixed “bloc” — NATO, the EU, BRICS — is giving way to a “multi‑speed” order where partners constantly recalibrate based on immediate interests, not just ideology. Survival and economic self‑interest often trump long‑term commitments.

The European Union, a traditional partner of the U.S., finds itself caught between Washington and Beijing. European countries, including Germany, continue to sell advanced machinery and tech to China while pushing their own “technological sovereignty” through regulations like the EU AI Act. This is not hypocrisy, but pragmatism: protecting economic interests while asserting distinct political values.

At the same time, the U.S. has deepened rifts by imposing tariffs even on close allies (like Denmark and the UK), revealing that economic security concerns can override traditional alliance unity. The U.S. interest in Greenland, presented as a matter of “hemispheric defence” in the Arctic, is seen in Europe as a redline over sovereignty, potentially pushing core allies toward alternative alignments.

These moves reflect a broader trend: the erosion of trust is no longer limited to trade disputes, but extends to core questions of sovereignty and security. Old alliances are not collapsing, but they are becoming more transactional and conditional.

One of the most concrete examples of this power shift is the global energy transition, particularly in transportation. The rise of electric vehicles (EVs) is not just a climate story; it is a geopolitical and economic one.

EVs significantly reduce dependence on oil by replacing internal combustion engines with electric drivetrains, which are far more energy‑efficient. This shift cuts tailpipe emissions, improves urban air quality, and reduces greenhouse gas emissions — especially as electricity grids rely more on renewables.

For many developing economies, including Ethiopia, this is transformative. Countries that spend billions importing oil can now leverage their own cheap, renewable energy (like hydropower) to power transport instead. This lowers import bills, eases foreign‑exchange pressure, and turns energy vulnerability into a form of self‑reliance.

Ethiopia exemplifies this shift. The country has enacted a world‑first ban on importing fossil‑fuel vehicles (from January 2024) and aims to have 500,000 EVs on the road by 2030, up from about 115,000 today. This is driven by the urgent need to reduce a massive fuel import bill while building energy sovereignty.

However, success depends on real infrastructure: thousands of charging stations nationwide, not just in Addis Ababa. Today, with only about 100 public chargers (mostly in the capital), long‑distance EV travel is nearly impossible. The government’s commitment is commendable, but the policy will need large-scale, equitable investment in charging networks and supportive regulations to truly reach the broader population.

The current trajectory is clear: a more fragmented world, where power is diffuse and global systems are split not only in supply chains but also in foundational standards and values. Technology is both a driver of change and a new arena of competition, reinforcing parallel, incompatible systems.

In this landscape, norms like the UN Security Council and WTO are increasingly sidelined in favour of pragmatic, ad‑hoc alignments. The old idea of a single global order, top‑down and rule‑based, is fading — replaced by a complex, multi‑speed reality where states, blocs, and even cities navigate their own paths.

This is the new world, whether we like it or not. The challenge for policymakers, businesses, and societies is not to wish for a return to a mythical past order, but to build resilience, agility, and cooperation within this fragmented, multipolar system.