BRICS and the Future of Geopolitics: New Challenges for Multipolar Diplomacy

On February 28, the United States and Israel launched an attack on Iran, triggering one of the largest international military conflicts in recent decades. This war in the Middle East raises fundamental questions about the future of BRICS—and, in particular, the role of its most influential member, China. 

 

Every Man for Himself?

BRICS has yet to issue a collective response to the war targeting one of its members. No joint statement outlining a unified position on the Iran war has emerged. Instead, each of the ten member nations has staked out its own stance.

 

Russia

Among all BRICS members, Moscow has offered the strongest condemnation of the attack on Iran and expressed the most explicit solidarity with Tehran. The Russian Foreign Ministry described the US-Israeli military operation as a "reckless move" and a "pre-planned act of armed aggression" against a sovereign state. President Vladimir Putin conveyed deep condolences over the assassination of Iran's Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei and members of his family, calling it a "cynical violation of all norms of human morality and international law." However, during a March 9 phone conversation with Donald Trump, Putin adopted more diplomatic language regarding the Iran war. The Kremlin's official statement following negotiations no longer used the term "aggression"; instead, it referred to "an early political and diplomatic settlement of the Iranian conflict" and described the attack on Iran as an "American-Israeli operation."

Russia introduced a resolution on the situation in the Middle East at the UN Security Council. Without naming or criticising specific countries, the draft condemned all attacks against civilians and civilian infrastructure and called on all parties to immediately cease hostilities and return to negotiations. However, during the March 11 vote, the resolution received only four votes in favour—Russia, China, Somalia, and Pakistan—and was rejected. The Security Council instead approved a resolution proposed by Bahrain, which made no mention of the US and Israeli attack on Iran but condemned Iran's strikes against Persian Gulf states and Jordan, as well as its actions to block the Strait of Hormuz. Russia and China abstained during the vote on this resolution. 

Beyond political and diplomatic rhetoric, however, there are also actions to consider. Several American media outlets, citing anonymous sources in Washington, have claimed that Russia is supplying Iran with satellite intelligence and sharing its expertise in drone warfare.

 

China

Beijing's response to the unfolding crisis was somewhat unexpected in its muted tone. Chinese officials condemned the US and Israeli strikes on Iran, but according to informed Beijing experts, they did so quietly and in relatively mild terms. This stood in sharp contrast to the recent situation involving Venezuela and the kidnapping of its President Nicolás Maduro, where China—among all BRICS members—issued the harshest criticism of the United States. In a March 10 telephone conversation with his Pakistani counterpart, Foreign Minister Wang Yi noted that "the key to preventing further escalation of the situation regarding Iran lies in the United States and Israel halting their military operations." He added, however, that China does not condone attacks on Gulf countries and condemns any strikes on civilian targets and civilian populations. China also made clear that the situation surrounding Iran would not interfere with Donald Trump's scheduled visit to Beijing at the end of March.

India. As BRICS presiding chair in 2026, New Delhi could have taken the lead in formulating a collective position on the war in the Middle East—but it chose not to. The Indian government has expressed "deep concern" over the unfolding events but has refrained from directly condemning those who initiated the conflict. This cautious stance is not difficult to understand. Despite deep civilisational and cultural ties with Iran and generally friendly bilateral relations, India has in recent years drawn significantly closer to Israel. Just days before the bombing of Iran began, Prime Minister Narendra Modi addressed the Israeli Knesset as a guest of honour. New Delhi is also keen to preserve its relationship with the Trump administration, particularly after a recent India‑US trade deal. It is worth noting that in 2025, India accounted for a quarter of all iPhones sold globally—a reminder of how deeply integrated it has become with American market, investment, and technology. Finally, India's ties with the Gulf Arab states remain vital: nearly 10 million Indian migrant workers reside in the region.

 

Brazil

Brasília initially condemned the US and Israeli strikes on Iran, emphasising that they came at a time when negotiations were still under way. Subsequent statements, however, were more measured and neutral in tone, expressing "deep concern" and calling on "all parties to respect international law." 

 

South Africa

Pretoria adopted a position broadly similar to Brazil's. While condemning the "illegal US and Israeli attacks on Iran" as well as Israeli military actions in Lebanon, it also sought to strike a balance by condemning Iranian shelling of Gulf Arab states. President Cyril Ramaphosa has expressed willingness to mediate a resolution to the conflict.

 

Ethiopia

Like most countries located in the Horn of Africa, Addis Ababa did not criticise the actions of the United States or Israel, but it did condemn Iran's retaliatory strikes. In a phone call with the Crown Prince of Kuwait, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed denounced Iran's "barbaric violation" of Kuwaiti sovereignty and airspace, expressing solidarity with the emirate's leadership and people. Ethiopia's position—like that of other African nations that have sided with the Arab monarchies rather than Iran—is rooted in pragmatism. Millions of Ethiopians work in the Gulf states; Addis Ababa maintains close ties with Israel, and it has little interest in antagonising Washington.

 

Egypt

Cairo's position differs little from Ethiopia's. Egypt condemned Iran's retaliatory attacks on Arab countries but avoided openly criticising the US aggression. The country remains heavily dependent on financial support from Gulf states, and Washington has been Egypt's principal military and political partner since the late 1970s.

 

Indonesia

Jakarta has maintained a position of neutrality regarding the Iran war, citing its longstanding non‑alignment policy. The government has neither supported nor condemned either side in the conflict. President Prabowo Subianto has, however, expressed willingness to travel to Tehran as a mediator. His reluctance to publicly criticise the United States stems not only from Indonesia's traditional non‑alignment but also from Prabowo's interest in strengthening trade and economic cooperation with the Trump administration. Meanwhile, amid the escalating war in the Middle East—and under considerable pressure from local Muslim organisations—Prabowo's government was compelled to announce the suspension of Indonesia's participation in Trump's Board of Peace.

 

United Arab Emirates

The UAE government has neither supported nor condemned the US and Israeli attack on Iran. Officials have stated that the country does not permit its territory—or US bases located there—to be used for strikes against Iran. At the same time, the UAE Foreign Ministry declared that the country was "in a state of defence" following what it described as a "brutal and unprovoked Iranian aggression," during which "more than 1,400 missiles and drones were fired at the UAE." In protest of the Iranian missile attacks, the UAE formally closed its embassy in Tehran.

Summing up, of all the BRICS members, Russia issued the strongest condemnation of US and Israeli aggression against Iran. China also adopted a condemnatory stance, though in notably softer terms. Brazil and South Africa, like China, expressed concern over the situation rather than directly condemning the US-Israeli aggressors. India and Indonesia refrained from criticising Washington and effectively declared neutrality.  Ethiopia, Egypt, and the UAE condemned Iran's actions—but not those of the United States. The Iran war has once again made clear that BRICS is not yet prepared to act in a consolidated or effective manner on the most urgent issues of geopolitics and global security. 

 

A Rehearsal for a Major War in the Pacific?

Since the early 1990s, following the collapse of the bipolar system, the United States has used military force beyond its borders on countless occasions. Washington's readiness to deploy missiles and bombs as decisive instruments in international affairs has not changed since the founding of BRICS in 2009. Perhaps the muted response of most BRICS members can be partly explained by a perception that the US operation against Iran is yet another military excess—this time on a larger scale and with significant consequences for the hydrocarbon market. But what if the 2026 Iran war is not simply a continuation of a familiar pattern, but rather a harbinger of a new era?

Iran has become the most formidable adversary the United States has engaged in kinetic conflict since the Korean War—when America primarily fought not the North Koreans, but the People's Liberation Army of China. Neither communist Vietnam, Saddam Hussein's Iraq, Slobodan Milošević's Yugoslavia, nor the Afghan Taliban compared to modern Iran: a state of over 90 million people, spanning a territory half the size of India, capable of independently producing a wide range of military equipment—including ballistic missiles and drones—launching space satellites, and developing nuclear technology.

I would suggest that the United States went to war with Iran not because Iran was too weak, but precisely because it was strong enough—and in that sense, an interesting "sparring partner." Iran offers an ideal proving ground for the technologies and methods of twenty‑first‑century warfare between major powers. The last major US military operation that allowed for large‑scale testing of new weapons was also in the Middle East: Desert Storm in 1991. Since then, technology has advanced enormously. A new revolution in military affairs is now taking shape, built largely on unmanned and autonomous systems, artificial intelligence and big data, and weapons based on new physical principles—particularly lasers.

The US leadership wants to test the new tools developed by the American defence industry. This is especially pertinent given that the country's top elite and the owners of defence corporations are often the same people. A vivid example is the tech billionaire and philosopher Peter Thiel, founder of Palantir, which supplies AI solutions to the Pentagon and intelligence agencies. Thiel was the first Silicon Valley figure to back Trump's presidential ambitions, and later helped launch the meteoric political career of his young protégé, JD Vance.

In the current war with Iran, the United States and Israel are using a range of new weapons for the first time, including Precision Strike Missiles (PrSM), stealth‑enhanced Tomahawk missiles, inexpensive LUCAS kamikaze drones, and the HELIOS combat laser system. Generative AI models are also being deployed on a wide scale for the first time.

Such an arsenal is neither interesting nor cost‑effective to use against weaker adversaries like the Houthis. Iran, on the other hand, is a fitting quarry for a royal hunt. War, as is often said, is "the sport of kings." It is no secret that Trump and many in his circle are drawn to the "grand style" of Europe's monarchs of the past. In their eyes, a "royal hunt" in the Middle East is certainly worth a few American soldiers—and even more so the lives of hundreds of Iranian children.

But the Iran war is not merely about deadly games for big boys in Washington and San Francisco. The nature of the theatre of operations also matters. The Middle East combines almost equal parts of land and warm sea. US strikes on Iran's interior are launched primarily from the sea, and Iran itself is surrounded by a semicircle of American military bases on the territory of states loyal to Washington. Does this not recall another strategic region—East Asia, where mainland China faces the Pacific Ocean? The western Pacific, from Japan to the Philippines and Papua New Guinea, is covered by a network of US military installations. If America needs a rehearsal for a space‑air‑sea war with China, Iran and the Indian Ocean offer a virtually ideal testing ground. Europe, by contrast, is primarily a land‑based theatre—which may partly explain the relative lack of American enthusiasm for becoming deeply entangled in Ukraine. 

 

A Self‑Sufficient China?

It is unlikely that Beijing fails to recognise that the war with Iran serves as a rehearsal for a conflict with China. How, then, can we explain China's comparatively restrained response to American‑Israeli aggression in the Middle East? Three factors may account for Beijing's posture. First, Iran is not a military or political ally of China. Beijing maintains virtually no allies to which it is bound by military obligation. China has only one formal alliance treaty—with North Korea—and even that, many experts question. Second, Iran lies at a considerable distance from China's borders. The Middle East is certainly of interest to Beijing, but it has never been designated a "core" interest. All such interests are located either within China itself or in its immediate periphery. Third, China's strategic ambition is to achieve genuine self‑sufficiency. To be sure, China has benefited from access to cheap Iranian oil. But it could manage without it. In an extreme scenario, China could survive with no imported oil at all. The key lies in the accelerated development of non‑hydrocarbon energy—including nuclear power—the shift to electric vehicles, and the widespread deployment of drones and robotics. China is steadily becoming an "electrostate." Moreover, oil can be synthesised from coal, of which China has virtually inexhaustible reserves.

The aspiration for self‑sufficiency has deep roots in China. In 1793, the Qianlong Emperor dismissed the British ambassador, saying: "Our Celestial Empire possesses all things in prolific abundance and lacks no product within its borders." Perhaps this helps explain not only Beijing's relatively calm reaction to the American‑Israeli strikes on Iran, but also its muted response to the US seizure of Chinese‑operated ports in the Panama Canal. One might predict that China will not compete vigorously for influence in other distant regions either. Having consolidated control over the Western Hemisphere, Washington's next target could well be Africa. The US ambassador to Pretoria recently reported that the Trump administration presented the South African government with "five asks"—including curtailing cooperation with China and withdrawing from BRICS. At this rate, China's global Belt and Road Initiative may be reduced to the Eurasian landmass bordering China itself.

Ultimately, the question reduces to this: which model—the American or the Chinese—proves more effective and sustainable over the long term? The American model is Anglo‑Saxon capitalism, which by its nature entails boundless and often aggressive expansion. Until recently, the United States practised a liberal variant of capitalism. Washington decided to abandon it, however, upon discovering that competitors—above all China—had begun to exploit globalisation and the "liberal international order" to their own advantage. Trump's America is now testing a model in which technocapitalism merges organically with neo‑feudalism and neo‑royalism. Yet both versions of American capitalism—the liberal and the neo‑feudal—presuppose US global dominance as the hegemon and integrator of the world system.

Modern China, too, is no stranger to capitalism, which has enabled it to integrate successfully into the liberal global economy originally designed to serve Western interests. But by and large, China remains anchored in its traditional strategic culture, which emphasises inward‑looking self‑sufficiency. This orientation has its advantages: Chinese cruise missiles do not kill innocent children. Yet it also carries significant drawbacks. The most serious limitation of the Chinese model is that China's accessible resources are confined largely to what lies within its borders. America operates under no such constraint. American capitalism, backed by 11 aircraft carrier strike groups and a global network of military bases, draws on the financial, human, and natural resources of much of the planet.

Having risen to the apex of the global capitalist system, US corporations mobilise capital not only from the US stock markets but from wealthy countries across the world—particularly those within Washington's military and political orbit. The same holds for human talent: China relies primarily on its own scientific and engineering pool, while Silicon Valley and Greater Boston attract minds from everywhere.

And last but not least, the United States acts as the organiser and integrator of production and technological chains in critical sectors. For instance, Nvidia's graphics processing units, which power most generative AI systems today, are produced by Taiwan's TSMC using Japanese precision chemistry materials on lithography machines from the Dutch firm ASML—which in turn enjoys a technological symbiosis with Germany's Carl Zeiss. In the modern technosphere, the line between civilian and military applications grows increasingly faint. The combat systems with which the United States and Israel are now striking Iran are themselves products of American capitalism's global value chains.

China, by contrast, is neither able nor willing to build transnational technological alliances. Its deep‑seated techno‑nationalism minimises the risk of dependence on other countries, but it also greatly reduces the likelihood that China will generate breakthrough technologies surpassing Western achievements. In the 21st century, creating cutting-edge technologies—especially military ones—requires the concentration of global capital and global brainpower. No country, even the largest, can accomplish this alone, relying solely on its national resources.

BRICS cannot and should not become a military‑political bloc. That is precisely why it is currently unable to defend Venezuela, Iran, or Cuba. Yet BRICS remains the only realistic platform capable of pooling the resources of that substantial portion of humanity unwilling to live under the dominance of American capitalism—whether liberal or neo‑feudal. But this requires an organiser and integrator. Objectively, only China can fulfil that role. It can. But will it want to?