
The Great World War 1914-1945: Germany, Russia, Ukraine
On Anzac Day we remembered World War One and World War Two, or at least the peripheral little bits of those imperial wars that New Zealand was involved in. There was and is little context given to how New Zealand got involved with such far-away wars which need never have become world wars. There were the usual cliches about 'our' young men, invading the Ottoman Empire, somehow fighting for freedom and democracy; and, through making 'supreme sacrifices', establishing the invaders' national identities. There was very little context about what these anti-German and anti-Japanese wars were really about, and on why we thought anybody could possibly benefit from Aotearoa New Zealand contributing in its own small way to their escalation.
The Great World War 1914-1945
If we step back, we can see that there was really only one very big war; best dubbed as The Great World War 1914-1945 (the GWW, which itself morphed into another in 1945, The Cold War 1945-1990).
The Great World War is really the 1914 to 1945 Russo-German War, embedded in a wider state of conflict that might be called The Great Imperial War.
The subsequent Cold War, essentially the 'great hegemonic war', reframed world war; from 1945 it was between the United States imperium and the Communist powers of Russia and China; it was a 'proxy war' rather than a passive-aggressive 'cold war'. The years 1991 to 2021 may prove to have been an intermission, just as 1919 to 1939 was an intermission in the Great World War; and noting that, in the GWW, Russia and Germany became 'Communist' and 'Nazi' during that intermission. The most important early 'hot' conflict in the Cold War was the Korean War, a deadly proxy conflict – at its core between the 'Anti-Communist' United States and 'Communist' China – ending as a 'score-draw'; an armistice in 1953 which took the hostile parties back to an almost identical position as to where they started in 1950. For the second phase of the Great Hegemonic War, the 'Communist' factor was waned; the prevailing ideology in the west in 2025 is a distorted form of self-congratulatory 'democratic imperialism', not unlike the prevailing ideology in the west in 1914.
By looking at 1914 to 1945 in this way, as a single albeit complex conflict, we can more easily see that the essence of the struggle was a conflict between the waxing German and Russian Empires; and that the central prizes of that conflict were the Russian imperial territories of Ukraine and the Caucasus, and the waning Ottoman Empire: food, oil and sea-access in the strategic pivot of central Eurasia.
All (except one) of the world's 'great' empires of the early twentieth century became involved: the waxing empires of Germany, Russia, Japan, and the United States of America; and the waning empires of United Kingdom, France, Ottoman Türkiye, Austria-Hungary and Netherlands. And the would-be empire of Italy. (The exception was the empire of Portugal, a neutral party; in 1898 the United States had acquired Spain's remnant empire.)
The Result of the Great World War
Wikipedia has page entries for every war ever fought in reality or mythology. And the Wikipedia format likes to give a binary result, as if a war was a series of football matches with a grand finale. Winners and losers. It's not like that in reality: most wars formally end in an armistice; albeit an armistice in which one party – one nation or coalition of nations – has an advantage and is largely able to dictate terms.
The core war within the Great World War was the Russo-German War, which ended in 1945 with a victory to Russia; then Rusia was the imperium of the 'Communist' Soviet Union. The victor of the wider Great Imperial War was the United States; Imperator Americanus inherited a beaten-up world, much as Emperor Augustus inherited the Roman Empire in 27 BCE after about two decades of strife between warring would-be overlords.
The Great World War began in 1914, essentially as the Third Balkan War. The reasons this local war expanded from a part of the world politically and geographically distant from the British Empire – the empire of which New Zealand understood itself to be an integral part – related to a contested set of quasi-scientific socio-economic and supremacist utopias (which will only be addressed here in passing), and to a basic reality that an expansionist western 'civilisation' was confronting diminished returns.
Possibly the most important and least understood year of the whole GWW was 1918. The context here is that Russia – Germany's new great foe, the Russian Empire – had been defeated late in 1917, following both a successful democratic revolution (the February Revolution) and a German-facilitated 'Communist' 'Bolshevik' coup d'etat (the October Revolution). The formality of Russian defeat – the Brest-Litovsk Treaty – was signed by Leon Trotsky in March 1918. The problem for Germany was that there was still an unresolved western front, there was a British naval blockade of Germany, and that the United States had been persuaded in 1917 to enter the war as an Entente power. Nevertheless, in March 1918, the Germans were winning on the western front having already settled the more-important eastern front; but Germany had no thought-through exit strategy. They were in no position to occupy Belgium, let alone France.
After the trench warfare stalemate that had characterised the western front for more than three years, it was Germany that broke through in the winter of 1917/18; indeed, Germany advanced to just-about big-gun-firing distance from Paris. The western powers were in a state of panic, as Germany redeployed soldiers from the eastern front to the west.
The United States had entered the war in France, but their soldiers were green and initially of little help against battle-hardened Germans. But the American soldiers, without realising the significance, had brought with them a secret weapon, influenza. (The deadly strain of influenza in 1918 – popularly known as the Spanish Flu – was almost certainly a hybrid of the Kansas strain and an Asian strain already in France.) The tide of the war only turned against Germany in August 1918, mainly due to economic limitations but also due in some part to soldiers getting very sick. The sickness had a bigger military impact on Germany, given that Germany's soldiers (including one A. Hitler) were more hardened fighters than the Americans.
Germany went from winners to losers only in the last three months, from August to November 1918; it was like a basketball game in which defeat was snatched from the jaws of victory (or vice versa, from a western viewpoint!). But they were never losers in the absolute sense that they later were, in 1945. On 11 November 1918, Germany settled for an armistice in which they were on the back foot. It was not an absolute defeat, and should never have been seen as such. Nevertheless, that sensible armistice came to be treated by the Entente Powers (especially France, the United Kingdom and the United States) as an absolute victory; Germany, victor over Russia, was subsequently treated with great and unnecessary humiliation, creating the seeds for a resumption of the Great World War. Part of that humiliation was the stripping of the territories in the incipient Soviet Union that had been won by Germany (especially the loss of Ukraine); another important part was the imposition of a 'Polish Corridor', through Eastern Germany to the Baltic Sea at the then-German city of Danzig, physically dividing Germany.
A third humiliation was a set of reparations that were imposed using similar mercantilist logic to that which is upsetting the world economic order today; Germany was supposed to pay France in particular huge amounts of gold, but the only way Germany could acquire that gold was for Germany to run a trade surplus and for the Entente Powers to run trade deficits. But the 'victorious' powers wanted to run trade surpluses, not trade deficits; they wanted Germany to increase its debt to the west while claiming that they wanted Germany to pay off its debt to the west.
(Today, the United States wants its Treasury to accumulate treasure in the same way that it and France sought to do in the 1920s, not realising that the countries they want to extract 'modern treasure' from – China and the European Union – can only get that treasure if they run trade surpluses. The great 'modern treasure' mine is actually in Washington, not in Eurasia.)
One result of all this mercantilism imposed upon the 1920s' world order by the liberal Entente powers was the Great Depression; that was probably the number-one catalyst towards the resumption of the Great World War in 1939 and the Russo-German War in 1941. This 'liberal mercantilism' was the first of the pseudo-scientific utopias to fail. Other aggravating factors were the intensification of the contradictions of the other two 'scientific utopias': the unachievable 'Communist' experiment in Russia, and the exacerbation of the supremacist eugenics which was widely subscribed to throughout Europe and which reached their apotheosis in Hitler's Germany.
A defeated Russia played no part in the formal hostilities of the GWW in 1918. Likewise, when the Great World War resumed in 1939, Russia appeared to be on the sideline; though that's another story. The true nature of the resumed GWW – known as World War Two in the west – became apparent in June 1941. The war continued for nearly four terrible years, with Soviet Russia prevailing over Nazi Germany in 1945, with some help from the western powers. Russia will celebrate Victory Day in a few days on 9 May; the end of the Russo-German War, though the Great World War continued until 15 August of that year. As regards the result of the Russo-German War, the western Entente powers were kingmakers rather than kings.
Overall, freedom and democracy were casualties of the GWW, not outcomes. By 1950, there were many more unfree people in the world, and few (India notwithstanding) who were more free than they had been in 1913. Indians' post-GWW freedoms came at a huge cost in damaged and lost lives. And they were freedoms from Britain, not freedoms fought for by Britain.
Ukraine
Chief among the territories won-and-lost by Germany was Ukraine. Considered in its entirety, Ukraine was the number-one prize and the number-one battleground of the Great World War.
The territory of Ukraine had been occupied by Germany for five years: 1918, and 1941 to 1944. In 1918, Germany lost Ukraine because of events on the western front; in 1945 the Soviet Union recovered Ukraine on the battlefield. Soviet Russia was helped by three imperial nations throughout the active phases of the GWW; by the British, the French, and the Americans. Otherwise, Germany – the Prussian Empire – would have almost certainly prevailed in its quest for Ukraine, and the oilfields around the Caspian Sea (and possibly the so-called 'Middle East', though that may have been permanently lost to Germany in 1918).
With Ukraine once again being centre-stage in geopolitics – the contested ground between conflicting quasi-academic narratives – the world may be set for a resumption of both the Cold War (especially in its mercantilist Sino-American guise) and the Russo-German war. Together, these have the makings of 'World War Three'; especially if we add in the Levantine conflict, the present supremacist conflict in the 'Middle East'.
In the geopolitics of early 2025, the 'elephant in the room' is Friedrich Merz, who will (eventually!) become Chancellor of Germany on 6 May. Merz is a military hawk, who has already shown all the signs that he would like to take the Ukraine War to Russia (ref. Berlin Briefing, DW, 24 April 2015), and elite public opinion in Germany seems to be staunchly 'pro-Ukraine'. In the event of a new global Great Depression – or the Geoeconomic Chaos Crisis that seems to be starting – could Merz become the new Führer, a 'willing' militarist leader of the Fourth Reich? At age 69 he's a young man compared to Donald Trump, and he looks to be fighting fit. Germany has many of the same issues today that it had in 1910 and in 1930; a people seeking to re-flex their nationalist muscles while severely constrained, within their German and EU boundaries, in terms of natural resources. Will Merz try to shore up (and militarize) the flagging European Union, much as Trump has been trying (unsuccessfully to be sure) to unite the whole of the Americas under his triumphalist banner? (Q. How do you get to run a small superpower? A. Get yourself a large superpower, and wait.) The battle for Ukraine may have a while to run yet; possibly as a European 'civil' war, a new Russo-German War.
Anzac Day
My sense is that if there's one thing that Aotearoa's post-2023 leadership are even more attracted to than fiscal austerity, then that's a good geopolitical scrap. We start to see war as glorious rather than ugly. We bring out all the false clichés and narratives, we extoll the likes of Winston Churchill, we self-suppress the inconvenient truth that war is a nasty, nasty, nasty business; indeed, we self-suppress this truth even when we see war's brutality – or could see it if we choose to watch Freeview Channel 20 – unfolding every day.
Now that the 80th anniversary of the Great World War has nearly passed, Anzac Day risks becoming a day of martial geo-nationalism, and not a day of remembrance.
Anzac Day has already become a day of highly selective remembrance; probably it always was. I visited Würzburg (the German firebombed city that suffered more than any other on a per capita basis) in 1974, and I visited West and East Berlin (via Checkpoint Charlie) that same year. I visited Arras in 1975, near to where my father's first cousin died in November 1918. I visited Derry and Belfast in 1976, cities in a then-active civil war zone. I visited the magnificently-sited Khartoum in 1978, now the capital-centre of the world's most complicit and under-narrated tragedy. I visited Cassino in 1984, the 40th anniversary of the battles that pointlessly took so many lives, including Kiwi lives such as that of my mother's first cousin. I visited Dandong and Seoul in 2008, gaining a first-hand insight into the Korean War, including a walk on the American-destroyed bridge and an oversight of the North Korean city of Sinuiju. (And I visited Port Arthur – Lüshun – key site and sight of the Russia-Japan War of 1905, with its natural harbour and its extant Russian train station.)
And in 2014, on the day after Anzac Day, I visited Nagasaki, site of the first plutonium bomb ever dropped over a city; and, that same month, I visited Ginza and Asakusa in Tokyo, rebuilt sites of the worst example every of a conventional fire holocaust; 100,000 mostly civilian deaths in one March night eighty years ago. (I was also lucky to get to walk through unbombed streets to the northwest of Ueno Park, getting a sense of what the neighbourhoods of Asakusa were once like.)
Lest we forget. Mostly, we have forgotten. (Including the worst of The Holocaust. Who commemorates Treblinka today? Or Minsk? Only Poland and Russia and Belarus.)
Our amnesia extends to one place New Zealanders fought in. This week Al Jazeera has done a series of news vignettes and a longer documentary, to remember the fiftieth anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War. This anniversary has not been prominent in New Zealand's Anzac Day media-scape. (RNZ did run a Reuters -syndicated website-only story on 30 April: Vietnamese celebrate 50 years since end of Vietnam War. And, to its credit, TV3 News ran an overseas-sourced story yesterday, not a story about New Zealand's largely-forgotten participation.) By-and-large, the still-living anti-Vietnam-War generation is now silent, apparently forgetful.
When martial narratives are not sufficiently contested, then wars – big wars – happen, almost by accident. That's how the Great World War began in the first place.
- Keith Rankin (keith at rankin dot nz), trained as an economic historian, is a retired lecturer in Economics and Statistics. He lives in Auckland, New Zealand.
© Scoop Media
Keith Rankin
Political Economist, Scoop Columnist
Keith Rankin taught economics at Unitec in Mt Albert since 1999. An economic historian by training, his research has included an analysis of labour supply in the Great Depression of the 1930s, and has included estimates of New Zealand's GNP going back to the 1850s.
Keith believes that many of the economic issues that beguile us cannot be understood by relying on the orthodox interpretations of our social science disciplines. Keith favours a critical approach that emphasises new perspectives rather than simply opposing those practices and policies that we don't like.
Keith retired in 2020 and lives with his family in Glen Eden, Auckland.

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Otago Daily Times
3 days ago
- Otago Daily Times
World closing down — when it reopens is anyone's guess
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Scoop
27-05-2025
- Scoop
Using Cuba 1962 To Explain Trump's Brinkmanship
People of a certain age will be aware that the 1962 Cuba Missile Crisis was, for the world as a whole, the most dangerous moment of the Cold War. The 1962 'Battle of Cuba' was a 'cold battle' in the same sense that the Cold War was a 'cold war'. (Only one actual shot was fired, by Cuba.) Nevertheless, it is appropriate to ask, "who won"? In military events hot or cold – it is surprisingly difficult to answer such a question. But it's actually quite easy in this case. The cold Battle of Cuba was about three countries, and three charismatic leaders: Nikita Khrushchev (Soviet Union), John F Kennedy (United States), and Fidel Castro (Cuba). Following the disastrous American invasion of Cuba in 1961, Cuba had taken on the role of a Soviet Union 'client state' – hence a military proxy – of the Soviet Union. (Prior to the Bay of Pigs assault, Cuba, while a revolutionary country, was not a communist country; though at least one prominent revolutionary, the Argentinian doctor Che Guevara, was certainly of the communist faith and took every opportunity to convert Cuba into a polity that followed the Book of Marx. The actions of the United States facilitated Castro's eventual conversion.) The situation that Khrushchev faced in late 1961 was that NATO had an installation of American nuclear-armed missiles in Turkey (now Türkiye). While Turkey had a common border with the Soviet Union – Azerbaijan, Armenia and Georgia – the missiles were essentially facing north across the Black Sea, into Ukraine and Russia. This was a clear and open – though not widely publicised in 'the west' – security threat to the Soviet Union. Taking advantage of the political fallout between Cuba and the United States, Khrushchev – in an act of bravado, indeed brinkmanship – negotiated with Castro to install nuclear-capable missiles in Cuba, one of the few genuine security threats that the United States has ever faced. The world trembled at the prospect of imminent (and possibly all-out) nuclear war. Castro looked forward to a hot battle which he was sure Khrushchev and Castro would together win. But Castro was doomed to disappointment. Khrushchev dismantled his missiles in Cuba, and Kennedy dismantled his missiles in Turkey. So, compare, say, October 1963 with October 1961. The only real difference was that in 1961 there were American missiles in Turkey pointing in the direction of Moscow, and in 1963 there were not. Game, set, and match to Khrushchev. (And of course, the whole world was the winner, in that not a nuclear missile was fired in anger. Though the Cubans did shoot down an American reconnaissance aircraft.) That's not the narrative which the western world has taken on board though. In the West, it's interpreted as a Soviet Union backdown, in the face of relentless diplomatic pressure from the Kennedy brothers (with Robert Kennedy playing a key negotiating role). Certainly, the world was on tenterhooks; brinkmanship can go disastrously wrong. There are some analogies with the current Ukraine crisis. Though the Ukraine War is certainly a hot war. Brinkmanship failed in 2021 and 2022. Nevertheless, Volodymyr Zelenskyy does pose as a good analogue to Fidel Castro (though not as an incipient communist!). Donald Trump's brinkmanship re China and the European Union Trump's war is a 'trade war', Winston Peters' rejection of the 'war analogy' notwithstanding. This is a war that uses the language of war. Two longstanding mercantilist economic nations (China, European Union) and one mercantilist leader are slugging it out to see who can export more goods and services to the world; the prize being a mix of gold and virtual-gold, the proceeds of unbalanced trade. (Historically the United States has also been a mercantilist nation, going right back to its origins as a 'victim' of British mercantilism in the eighteenth century. The United States has always been uneasy about its post World-War-Two role as global consumer-of-last-resort and its historical instincts towards mercantilism; an instinct that contributed substantially to the global Great Depression of 1930 to 1935. 'Mercantilism' is often confused by economists with 'protectionism', and indeed the American Smoot-Hawley tariffs of 1930 were a mix of both.) My reading of Donald Trump is that he is a mercantilist, but not a protectionist; that he's not really a tariff-lover, just as Khrushchev was not really a missile lover. Instinctively, China and especially the European Union are protectionist as a way of supporting their ingrained mercantilism. But a country that is 'great again' – in this 'making money' context – can prevail in a trade war without tariffs. Indeed, that's exactly why the United Kingdom moved sharply towards tree trade in the 1840s and 1850s. England had not lost its mercantilist spots. But at the heart of an English Empire within a British Empire, London had the power to win a 'free trade' trade war. It was the other would-be powers – the new kids on the global block; the USA, Germany's Second Reich, and later Japan and Russia – which turned to tariff protection in order to stymie the United Kingdom. Trump's super-tariffs against China and the European Union – trade weapons, economic 'missiles' – are designed to get those two economic nations to remove their various trade barriers that existed in 2024. Once they do that, then Trump may remove his tariff threats. Trump is playing brinkmanship in the way of Khrushchev. Xi Jinping is Kennedy; so, in a way, is Ursula von der Leyen. Canada, in a sense, is Cuba. (Though Mark Carney may not like to think of himself as Castro!) If Trump gets his way, the United States' economy in 2026 will be as free as it was in 2024. The Chinese and European Union economies will have significantly fewer tariff and non-tariff import barriers than in 2024. Significantly fewer 'trade weapons' poised to 'rip off' the United States! Canada will be much the same in 2026 as in 2024, albeit with a newfound sense of national identity. Implications for the Wider World, and the Global Monetary System The wider world will probably not be better off with a mercantilist war, albeit a free-trade war. When hippopotamuses start dancing …! We already see how free trade in 'big guns' is creating military instability in Africa and South Asia. And we must expect to see the United States' special role as the fulcrum of the world's monetary system dissipate if the United States significantly reduces its trade deficits; requiring some other deficit countries to take up that challenge. Canada? Australia? India? United Kingdom? A new anti-mercantilist British Empire? I don't think so. Türkiye? Saudi Arabia? Brazil? Maybe not. Japan? Maybe. Russia? If the Ukraine war ends, Russia will struggle to import more than it exports; though I am sure that Donald Trump would like to see the United States exporting lots of stuff to Russia. The International Monetary Fund? Maybe, but only if it changes some of its narratives. The challenge here will be for it to reform itself in line with John Maynard Keynes' proposals at and after Bretton Woods, the 1944 conference which set itself the task of establishing the post-war global monetary order. Keynes envisaged a World Reserve Bank; though he didn't envisage monetary policy – with New Zealand in 1989 acknowledged as the world's lead 'reformer' – falling into the hands of the 'monetarists' and their false narratives about inflation. ------------- Keith Rankin (keith at rankin dot nz), trained as an economic historian, is a retired lecturer in Economics and Statistics. He lives in Auckland, New Zealand. Keith Rankin Political Economist, Scoop Columnist Keith Rankin taught economics at Unitec in Mt Albert since 1999. An economic historian by training, his research has included an analysis of labour supply in the Great Depression of the 1930s, and has included estimates of New Zealand's GNP going back to the 1850s. Keith believes that many of the economic issues that beguile us cannot be understood by relying on the orthodox interpretations of our social science disciplines. Keith favours a critical approach that emphasises new perspectives rather than simply opposing those practices and policies that we don't like. Keith retired in 2020 and lives with his family in Glen Eden, Auckland.


Otago Daily Times
22-05-2025
- Otago Daily Times
China's rise: stabilising the global order or sparking a major shake-up?
The Shanghai skyline. PHOTO: REUTERS You do not go from Mao suits to luxury malls without shaking up the global order. In just a few decades, China has catapulted from post-revolutionary poverty to boardroom dominance. It is impossible to ignore it; economically, diplomatically and militarily, China is everywhere. But the million-dollar question that seems to haunt many gatherings these days is whether China's spectacular rise is making the world more stable or just more nervous? China had a turning point in 1978. Deng Xiaoping began economic reforms that ripped down the barriers of central planning with the catchphrase "To get rich is glorious," which would make Wall Street blush. Ideological inflexibility was replaced by foreign wealth. China began constructing the mall rather than merely opening stores. The outcome? Unprecedented. Decades of GDP growth of almost 10% annually. Hundreds of millions of people were lifted from poverty. The establishment of a European-sized middle class. And instead of retreating once the Cold War ended, China leaned in with strategic diplomacy, World Trade Organisation participation and a rebranding initiative known as the "peaceful rise". No tanks, no invasions, just trade agreements and infrastructure projects. And here is where the stabilising argument kicks in. China is the top trade partner of more than 120 countries. That is a deterrent as well as being remarkable. Very few states want to risk a conflict with their largest buyer, logistics centre or lender. When your GDP depends on Chinese demand, you think twice before picking a fight. China is also a skilled diplomat player. From the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership to Asean to its United Nations role, Beijing has made significant investments to project an image of being a positive global force. In its foreign policy, it promotes "win-win co-operation," non-interference and multipolarity — a world where many people shape it rather than just one sheriff (read: United States of America). That appeals to many states that are fed up with American hyprocrisy and lecturing. Even China's unwavering adherence to sovereignty, which it holds dear, has helped to stabilise some areas by preventing outside interference. Beijing steers clear of messy wars in favour of regional discussions and infrastructure agreements. That strikes many as a welcome diversion from what are often seen in the Global South as the interfering tendencies of the West. But as you flip the coin, the fissures become visible. Let's start with Beijing's outlandish claim to much of the South China Sea. A peaceful rise? When China is displaying naval might, erecting runways on contested reefs and brandishing old maps as if they override international law, it is a difficult sell. The Philippines and Vietnam, for example, were concerned rather than reassured. As a result, the US has shifted its military priorities to Asia and strengthened its partnerships. Then there is Taiwan. Both the military exercises and Beijing's rhetoric are becoming more confrontational. When aircraft carriers are used to support peaceful reunion, such a goal has a hollow ring to it. That is a conflict just waiting to happen; it is not stability. The Belt and Road Initiative is a trillion-dollar infrastructure dream on paper. In actuality? Sometimes it is a disguised debt trap. Ask Sri Lanka, which, due to its failure to repay loans, was forced to cede a major port to China for 99 years. Economic development is not what happens when nations lose control of important assets; rather, it is geopolitical leverage disguised as investment. And do not forget the power competition with the US. We are not yet in a full-blown great power showdown, but the vibes are definitely chilly. Global alliances are already changing as a result of trade disputes, hi-tech prohibitions and military posture. Nations torn between Washington's security umbrella and Beijing's cheque book are forced to choose a side, which never works out well. Where does this leave us, then? The truth is China's rise is a double-edged sword. It offers trade, connection, new diplomatic options and fresh perspectives on world leadership, but it also carries with it economic reliance, strategic rivalries and territorial disputes. Indeed, the world is more interconnected, but it is also more vulnerable. What comes next depends less on China and more on how the rest of us respond. Will we engage where interests align and push back where values clash? Or will we sleepwalk into another great power standoff, trading Cold War 1.0 for a glossier sequel? Whether the future leans towards collaboration or conflict will depend on how we, including New Zealand, respond to that increase. It is a tightrope walk on a global scale; if we tip one way, we make progress together; if we tip the other way, we face a showdown of the 21st century. This is a test of the wisdom of the world, not simply of China's intentions. ■ Mercy Mikaele Fonoti is a master of international studies student at the University of Otago.