nCa Commentary
In the sprawling tapestry of global politics, few phrases carry as much baggage as “zone of influence” and “dependence.” These terms, often wielded by Western policymakers, frame international relationships as a game of ownership—a zero-sum contest where proximity to one nation must mean subservience, and collaboration with another implies vulnerability. But what if this framing itself is the problem? What if the world is less a chessboard of rivals and more a garden, where diverse partnerships bloom based on shared needs, mutual respect, and the simple truth that no two nations are ever truly “owned” by another?
Consider the story of Vietnam, once scarred by war, now a thriving economy partnering with China for infrastructure while deepening trade ties with the U.S. and Europe. Or Indonesia, which collaborates with Japan on green technology and welcomes Chinese investment in its ports—all without becoming a “dependent” of any single power. These relationships aren’t about allegiance; they’re about pragmatism. A hospital in Nairobi equipped with European grants and Chinese construction isn’t a pawn—it’s a community saved. A Southeast Asian student studying in India on a scholarship isn’t “aligned”—they’re educated. Yet when such partnerships are reduced to “zones of influence” or “dependence,” the nuance vanishes. Sovereign choices are recast as liabilities, and cooperation becomes a synonym for coercion.
The irony is that this language often says more about the speaker’s insecurities than the reality on the ground. When a country chooses to trade with a neighbor, borrow technology from a distant partner, or join a regional bloc, it isn’t surrendering agency—it’s exercising it. Malaysia’s decision to collaborate with Saudi Arabia on energy projects while hosting American tech hubs reflects strategic autonomy, not subservience. Similarly, Brazil’s partnerships with China on agriculture and with Germany on renewable energy showcase a nation crafting its own future, one relationship at a time. To label these decisions as “dependence” is to infantilize entire nations, stripping them of their right to weigh costs, benefits, and aspirations.
Historically, the “zone of influence” narrative has justified interventions, coups, and economic bullying—often in the name of protecting smaller nations from “bad choices.” Yet this paternalism ignores the agency of people. When Sri Lanka leased a port to China, critics decried it as a “debt trap.” What’s less discussed is how Colombo used those funds to rebuild after a devastating civil war, or how the port now employs locals and fuels regional trade. The term “dependence” obscures these complexities, reducing sovereign decisions to simplistic tales of victimhood.
The danger of this rhetoric isn’t just academic. It fuels division, pushing nations into defensive corners. A Latin American leader once remarked, “When the U.S. calls our trade with China ‘dependence,’ it feels like they’re telling us who we’re allowed to be friends with.” Such language sows mistrust, implying that partnerships are transactions to be policed rather than relationships to be respected. It also ignores history: the Marshall Plan wasn’t framed as making Europe “dependent” on the U.S., yet today’s critics apply the term selectively, often to non-Western partnerships.
Costa Rica’s journey offers a lesson. By abolishing its army and investing in education, it chose a path of neutrality, yet no one accuses it of being “dependent” on peace. Instead, it built a reputation as a mediator, a eco-tourism pioneer, and a tech innovator. Its story underscores that sovereignty isn’t about isolation—it’s about the freedom to choose alliances that serve your people, free from labels that diminish that agency.
The world is not a playground where bigger kids claim turf. It’s a mosaic of cultures, economies, and aspirations, each piece finding its place without eclipsing others. Africa’s partnerships with China, India’s ties to Russia, the Philippines’ balancing act between East and West—these aren’t bids for dominance or signs of weakness. They’re the natural result of a planet where no nation has a monopoly on solutions. Climate change, pandemics, and digital transformation don’t care about “zones of influence”; they demand collective action.
So what’s the alternative to this divisive language? Start by recognizing that every nation, regardless of size, has the right to craft its own alliances. Celebrate partnerships that lift communities out of poverty, protect ecosystems, or spark innovation—without branding them as victories or threats. Instead of asking, “Whose sphere are they in?” ask, “What shared goals are they pursuing?”
The truth is, no country thrives by being fenced into someone else’s narrative. When the UAE sends a probe to Mars with Japanese technology and American expertise, it isn’t “dependent”—it’s pioneering. When Argentina exports soy to China and wine to Europe, it isn’t a “zone”—it’s a bridge. The sooner we replace outdated frameworks with humility and curiosity, the sooner we’ll see the world as it is: not a battleground of influence, but a garden where a thousand flowers bloom, each sustained by roots that reach far and wide.
A partnership is only as strong as the respect it’s built on—and the world is only as free as the choices we honor. /// nCa, 13 March 2025