Singapore could be the right place for a mediation between Russia and Ukraine

 The Russian war against Ukraine requires mediation beyond the Euro‑Atlantic framework

Victor Ângelo

Volodymyr Zelensky’s long open letter to Vladimir Putin on 4 June was not a conventional diplomatic initiative. It was another move in a hybrid war with no end in sight. By publicly calling for a ceasefire at the precise moment when Russia’s economic elite and figures from the Global South were meeting in St Petersburg, the Ukrainian president’s primary aim was not to persuade the Kremlin — and it was revealing that he published the letter before delivering it to its addressee, a gesture openly criticised by Putin’s inner circle. Zelensky sought to exploit visible tensions within the Russian system and to remind the international community that Kyiv continues to take the initiative while Moscow remains mired in a devastating war of attrition.

As a political gesture, Zelensky scored points. He again showed that Putin is more concerned with protecting his image and person than with the fate of his people. But wars on this scale do not end because an aggressor suddenly rediscovers the virtues of moderation. They end when military pressure, economic hardship and political isolation reduce the benefits of escalation and compel serious negotiation. The question is not whether Zelensky’s letter was timely. The question is how to turn pressure and stalemate into a mediation process that is not merely a delaying tactic.

In theory, that mediatory role belongs to the United Nations, which in practice has little or no capacity to alter the political calculations of a permanent member of the Security Council.

The alternatives display equally evident limits. Geneva, one of the locations proposed by Zelensky, has its neutrality challenged by Moscow because of Switzerland’s alignment with EU positions. Gulf states are preoccupied with the crises now besetting the Middle East. Turkey — whose mediation capacities were demonstrated in the Istanbul process of March 2022, when negotiations came closest to a result before collapsing — is a NATO member, a geopolitical space the conflict has already outgrown. India has strategic weight but lacks impartiality. New Delhi has consistently shown greater interest in preserving strategic ambiguity than in applying real pressure on Moscow, not least because it has significantly increased imports of Russian oil and purchases of military equipment and components for the development of its civil nuclear energy sector.

A credible host must satisfy four criteria simultaneously. First, political acceptability: it must be accepted, above all, by Moscow and Kyiv, and have political credibility in Washington and Beijing.

Second, legal latitude: the decisions of the International Criminal Court (ICC) cannot be ignored. The host country must provide a clear legal basis to receive senior Russian representatives without undermining the accountability framework the ICC defends.

Third, technical competence: extraordinarily complex issues are at stake — sanctions, frozen assets, security guarantees, reconstruction financing, energy corridors. Peace processes do not fail for want of rhetoric; they fail because guarantees are vague and violations go unsanctioned.

Fourth, structural discretion: public negotiations are fruitless. A host that cannot protect the confidentiality of working sessions will render the process impossible before it begins.

In light of these criteria, I look to Singapore and judge that it deserves more attention than it has received — but the argument requires precision, not mere faith. The country possesses a rare set of institutional conditions that make it a plausible — if not obvious — candidate to coordinate an international mediation.

Indeed, in terms of political acceptability, Singapore simultaneously maintains a strategic partnership with the United States and counts China as its largest trading partner, with decades of functional relations that include discreet channels of communication between Beijing and Western actors. This dual interdependence reveals a substantial capacity to act as a credible interlocutor.

Regarding the ICC, Singapore is not a State party to the Rome Statute. It could also suspend its own sanctions on Russia as an incentive to participate, without compromising the broader architecture of Western sanctions. And it could negotiate with Moscow to be removed from the Kremlin’s list of “hostile countries”. A process of this kind would require concessions that may at first seem unimaginable, but perhaps are not. Curiously, Singapore’s Prime Minister, Lawrence Wong, will visit the Russian city of Kazan next week as part of a Russia–ASEAN summit and will meet Vladimir Putin.

Singapore is one of the world’s major financial and international arbitration centres, with institutional capacity to deal with the most complex aspects of any peace process. Its record also shows it can manage confidentiality, logistics and security for high‑risk events — with exemplary diplomatic professionalism.

Just as Paris, Oslo or Doha became venues for diplomatic processes that transcended their geographic scale, the effectiveness of mediation often depends more on the conditions a host can offer than on its military or geopolitical weight. Singapore would remove the process from the fraught Euro‑Atlantic frame and rewrite it within a genuinely multilateral context.

Intellectual honesty requires recognising the limits. No country can force Russia to negotiate. Mediation will only begin when the Kremlin concludes that prolonging the aggression has become politically and economically unsustainable, and a military disaster. That moment may not be near. But it will come, and it is important to have a prepared and competent diplomatic architecture to initiate mediation.

Singapore would still have to accept the role. Washington, Beijing and other capitals should discuss the option and discreetly sound out the country’s political willingness, as well as the receptivity of Moscow and Kyiv. This mediation, when it occurs, must be handled with great circumspection and originality.

(Published in Portuguese in Diário de Notícias on 12/06/2026)

The Space Geopolitics

Superpowers, creative billionaires, and the dispute over outer space

Victor Ângelo 

International Security Advisor. Former UN Under-Secretary-General Published: 5 Jun 2026

Outer space is already a paramount issue in the competition between great powers. Consequently, the deserts of northwestern China, in Xinjiang and Gobi, attract very special attention. Satellite imagery reveals vast military complexes and an extensive network of many dozens, even hundreds, of rocket launch pads, bunkers, and enormous, heavily fortified structures. Built near nuclear silos—which house China’s longest-range intercontinental missiles—this infrastructure aims to guarantee an immediate retaliatory capacity should the country suffer a first strike.

This terrestrial fortress is only half the story. The bunkers excavated in the sand are intimately linked to Chinese surveillance satellites, together forming an integrated ground and space defence system. The assets concentrated in the desert depend directly on their orbital counterparts: the Huoyan-1 early-warning satellites. These "eyes of fire", capable of detecting the infrared signature of enemy missiles immediately after their launch, open a critical three-to-four-minute window, allowing the Chinese chain of command to order the firing of weapons stored in the silos before they can be destroyed.

We are in a different world from the old space race. In the late 1950s and the subsequent decade, the focus was on the national prestige and political image of the US and the USSR. The marathon of space competition has changed. Today, it is a high-speed and high-risk race.

Space is one of the great strategic priorities of the present. Much of what resides in low Earth orbit governs our daily lives: global logistics, financial synchronization, communications, disaster response, and encrypted military operations. The country that masters the technical standards, extracts the first cosmic resources, and controls the orbital infrastructure will obtain an ambivalent power over the global economy and planetary defence, capable of serving human progress as much as military hegemony and a global disaster.

The current space arena is thus a vital geopolitical dispute, marked by four distinct political approaches. Each power runs its own race.

European priorities are concentrated on the development of space infrastructure essential to ensure strategic communications, on the Galileo (GPS navigation) and Copernicus (continuous Earth observation) projects, on the tracking of orbital debris (see the reference to Kessler below), and on research regarding robotic launches. The scarcity of venture capital and fragmentation—every country for itself—are the political issues that need to be resolved.

The United States has consolidated its reliance on public-private partnerships in the aerospace sector. Through the Artemis Accords, Washington seeks to promote international norms that favour free enterprise to maintain its supremacy, leveraging the agility and efficiency of the private sector. Artemis aims to establish a sustained human and robotic presence on the Moon, testing new technologies for the extraction of water and minerals.

China views space through a deeply integrated civil-military lens. For Beijing, it is a strategic domain subject to state control. The Chinese vision constitutes an explicit challenge to US primacy. In this context, China prioritizes the International Lunar Research Station (ILRS), seeking to secure a sovereign infrastructure independent of Western systems. The exploration of the lunar South Pole has become a central objective.

Russia was once a pioneering actor. Today, despite financial constraints and sanctions that limit access to technological components, the space sector continues to be treated as a priority. It retains a highly secretive character. However, it is known to invest primarily in the research and testing of destructive anti-satellite weapons, space-based intelligence, and hypersonic weaponry. This option holds considerable strategic value, both defensive and offensive.

The explosion of space business, operating on an unprecedented financial scale, is another characteristic of our era. The current US dominance is largely driven by private giants such as Jeff Bezos's Blue Origin and, most notably, Elon Musk's SpaceX. By pioneering reusable rockets, SpaceX has drastically reduced launch costs. With a capitalization that already rivals the GDP of major states, the company has rewritten the rules of orbital geopolitics.

These private companies have ceased to be mere service providers. Today, they are central geopolitical actors, wielding enormous economic weight and playing a decisive role in American defence. But, with high economic value comes severe strategic vulnerability. In any potential conflict, the temptation to blind an adversary by destroying their early-warning and communications satellites could be limitless.

An attack of this kind—or even an accidental collision between satellites in orbit—would have devastating systemic effects. There is a risk of triggering the so-called Kessler syndrome: a catastrophic chain reaction in which orbital debris collides with other satellites, generating exponentially more fragments. This would rapidly create a global crisis, with Earth's orbit saturated by high-speed debris directly impacting multiple essential systems. It would not only affect military deterrence: it could compromise the terrestrial economy and provoke a civilizational regression of incalculable consequences.

The 1967 Outer Space Treaty is no longer fit for an era marked by thousands of objects in orbit—a continuously growing number—and by the development of anti-satellite (ASAT) weapons. The Second Space Race, which is currently underway, demands cooperation and far stricter rules—a new treaty. Space cannot be viewed merely as a competition or an extraordinary business opportunity. It is our collective survival that is at stake.

The Bear Meets the Big Brother, the Dragon: Putin and Xi Jinping

 

An Alliance Between Unequal Powers: Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin

Victor Ângelo

Op-ed published in Diário de Notícias on 22/05/2026

 

When Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin meet—as happened once again this week—we witness a highly choreographed geopolitical display, rich in symbolism. They speak of a multipolar world and toast to a ‘new era’ and a ‘no limits’ partnership—the celebrated expression coined during their February 2022 meeting, just days before the launch of Russia’s inadmissible war of aggression against Ukraine. The messages they seek to send to the rest of the planet, particularly to Europe, are highly explicit, and they were repeated this week. First, that China and Russia are bound by an unbreakable alliance, indispensable for constructing the new world order they deem necessary. Second, they intend for this order to differ from the one established in recent decades by the Western world, especially since the era of the Reagan-Thatcher tandem and the period following the end of the Cold War. We are clearly facing a Sino-Russian project to reorder international relations in their own fashion.

 

It is, however, a flawed partnership, an unequal relationship—from an economic perspective, for instance. China is undisputedly the centre of gravity and the primary axis of its neighbour’s economy. It now accounts for between 40% and 45% of Russian imports. This is an overwhelming dependency. Conversely, barely more than 4% of China’s foreign trade is conducted with Russia, according to Bloomberg data. This is an insignificant percentage when compared to the volume of trade between China and other economies, be they the US, the EU, or ASEAN. Furthermore, the Chinese currency, the yuan, is the predominant tender in Moscow’s financial market. The yuan has virtually replaced the majority of transactions previously executed in US dollars, with the remainder settled in roubles.

 

Political inequality compounds this economic disparity. This is the most significant dimension of the asymmetry between the two countries. A tacit hierarchy exists that places the Chinese president at the top. One might say that Xi envisions, proposes, and makes things happen. Putin follows when he can, provided he sees that it does not jeopardise his domestic political image, where he still dictates the law.

 

Xi Jinping intends to be the architect of the new international structure, built with calmness, firmness, and time. He plays without unnecessary haste. He is entirely convinced that, before long, his country will be a rival on an equal footing with the US, and that global challenges will place China at the heart of multilateral responses.

 

Vladimir Putin, for his part, mistook pompous parades for military capability. He ended up bogged down in an intensely draining war, which he made the blunder of initiating with utter disregard for international law and with armed forces that recall the highly doubtful legend of Potemkin villages. Putin continues to believe he is a strategic giant, when in reality Ukraine is laying bare his feet of clay. Putin is likewise a stain on Xi Jinping’s international reputation. Xi finds himself forced to defend him in various political arenas, even though he knows this entails reputational costs for his regime, which wishes to be seen as the champion of peace and multilateral cooperation.

 

Xi’s strategic objectives are essentially twofold. On the one hand, to ensure Chinese dominance in the region defined by the Pacific and Indian Oceans. On the other, to gain the lead regarding the technologies that are shaping the twenty-first century. Achieving this requires time, and it requires China’s main rival powers to remain distracted by other matters.

 

This is where Putin’s political blunders prove to be of immeasurable value to China. Though it is seldom considered, the endless war in Ukraine keeps a significant portion of the strategic capabilities, military resources, and diplomatic attention of China’s main rivals far removed from potential criticism and measures against Chinese domestic and foreign policy. Every crisis meeting at NATO headquarters or in EU capitals represents a tactical distraction for Washington and creates rifts between Europe and the US. All of this allows President Xi to continue the process of economically and politically subordinating Russia, while modernising the People’s Liberation Army and shielding China’s economy against potential Western sanctions. Putin is thus an excellent political distraction.

 

Xi’s greatest anxiety regarding Russia concerns the martial philosophy that continues to prevail in the Kremlin. When Moscow hinted that it might use tactical nuclear weapons in Ukraine, it was Beijing—and not just Washington—that also silently but firmly drew a red line before Putin’s intentions. Xi needs a prolonged and draining conflict that bleeds the West, but he cannot afford to permit or promote an apocalyptic escalation that would destroy the global order upon which China’s rise depends.

 

Consequently, Xi’s support for Russia has strict, albeit undeclared, limits. That is the reality, despite public assertions. China buys Russian oil and gas at a discount, in yuan, and within limits—there was no agreement on the new trans-Siberian pipeline, which deeply disappointed the delegation from Moscow. And it supplies Moscow with ‘dual-use’ goods, including military-applicable items like microchips and drone components. It does so discreetly, but in vast quantities. It denies, however, any accusation of direct lethal military aid. Why? To avoid secondary Western sanctions against its economy, which relies heavily on foreign trade. The ‘architect’ knows that a direct confrontation with the West at this juncture would derail his ambitions and imperil the authority of the Chinese Communist Party.

 

The essential thing is to understand the true nature of the relationship between Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin and to respond to the serious risks it poses. Note the various agreements signed during this visit—for example, in the fields of atomic energy, space, and AI. These matters do not allow for simplistic analysis. China and Russia do not represent the same type of challenge. Yet, despite the asymmetries, a dangerous strategic convergence exists between both regimes.

Commenting on the State of the Union and the crisis in the Middle East (Iran)

 

Opinion Diário de Notícias 

From the State of the Union to Iran: Between Rhetoric and Real Risk

Victor Ângelo

International Security Advisor. Former UN Under-Secretary-General

Published on: 27 Feb 2026

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We live in a society where "doctors" in the most extravagant branches of "Political Science" are proliferating. Many of them provide commentary on television opinion programmes in a manner that is as irrational as it is effective at capturing the largest possible number of viewers. This leads me to wonder whether any of them has ever studied the political thought of Cantinflas, who won a Golden Globe in the field of comedy—a close relative discipline to party politics. Although he passed away in 1993, it seemed appropriate to revisit his interventions in the art of politics and imagine how he would have reacted to the "rigmarole" speech Donald Trump delivered this week on the State of the Union.

Cantinflas was a shrewd man and, as a neighbour to the US by virtue of being Mexican, he would certainly have paid mockingly close attention to the American president’s harangue. I have no doubt he would have been delighted. Trump proved, once again, to be one of his own: an extraordinary orator in a style the Mexican character appreciated—the circular discourse. That is to say, an endless allocution that repeatedly returns to the same themes, as if the speaker were trapped in an arena with no exit.

Trump, in his 2026 State of the Union, dwelt repeatedly on immigration, the success of his administration (particularly in the economy), the incompetence of the Democrats, patriotism, the eight peace deals achieved, and negotiations with Iran. The intentions of the speech were clear: to display brilliance, project power, and sow division. Cantinflas used to say that these are a politician’s primary weapons, to which I would add intrigue. The comedian would have given Trump’s lecture top marks.

He would, however, be concerned regarding Iran. Although Trump speaks of negotiations and claims to prefer a deal—yesterday, a new and strange session of talks took place in Geneva, featuring two American interlocutors and two dozen representatives from Tehran, a contrast that reveals the disparity in expectations—the reality is that we are very close to an armed intervention. I do not know if it is a matter of hours or days, but the signs do not seem to deceive. Benjamin Netanyahu could enlighten us, as he is surely on the inside of the matter.

I have already written in the 6 February edition of the DN that a confrontation between the US and Iran would be "profoundly dangerous and complex." For the region and for various other parts of the globe.

The White House, however, prizes triumphalism over diplomacy. In this regard, it mirrors the dominant position in the Kremlin: the superpowers have ceased to believe in talks. Now, it is about crushing one’s adversaries.

It was not like this during the Cold War, especially in the final decade that ended with Mikhail Gorbachev’s mandate. My generation at the United Nations and in international diplomacy will remember that Gorbachev advocated, when speaking with Washington or in New York, the idea of persistent negotiations and openly criticised any decisions he deemed thoughtless, unbalanced, or dangerous to global stability.

It was through working with people like that, on both sides of the wall, that I learned that to win in the ceaseless quest for respect for International Law, one must be persistent and patient. This message should be reminded to those in charge in Washington regarding Iran. Similarly, it would be relevant to underscore to both the White House and the Kremlin another lesson from the times when agreements reached at the UN and other multilateral forums were respected: it is generally a crass error to underestimate one’s opponent.

At the UN General Assembly in September 2025, Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian guaranteed that his country does not intend to build a nuclear bomb. Words are worth what they are worth and, in politics, they often fail to withstand a sudden gust of wind. For most leaders, good political practice means being skilled in the art of lying through one's teeth. Pezeshkian’s promises certainly do not withstand the vision of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, who views the US and Israel as his country’s mortal enemies and the production of missiles—and likely nuclear weapons—as the only salvation for his regime. But the truth is that the regime suffers from a much greater threat: the majority of Iranians want to end the theocratic dictatorship of the ayatollahs, a power that is terribly repressive, antiquated, and unacceptable by the standards of Human Rights.

In a world of courageous people, the United Nations should be trying to promote, tirelessly, an encounter between Donald Trump and Ali Khamenei. A direct dialogue, a face-to-face between the two. It would be difficult, but not impossible. This was one of the lessons we learned from Winston Churchill and many other high-calibre statesmen. Churchill believed in the efficacy of summit meetings. He would be flabbergasted to learn that Trump had sent the poor soul Witkoff and the property investor Kushner to Geneva to discuss the solution to a confrontation that could turn the Middle East and other parts of the world upside down. They are not up to the task. Especially when, on the other side, stands a nation with millenary pride. And one that feels inspired and protected by a divine force. That kind of illusion holds great power.

Security in Munich 2026: a complex debate

The Munich Security Conference is set to take place from the 13th to the 15th of February. It remains a watershed moment in global political discourse; one need only recall the fractious intervention of the American Vice President, JD Vance, at last year’s gathering to grasp the weight of the meeting.

We find ourselves now in an even more precarious phase. As the Prime Minister of Canada, Mark Carney, remarked recently in Davos, we are in a state of "permanent rupture"—an era of "brute reality" where Great Powers wield trade and force as instruments of coercion. He is, in large measure, correct. Indeed, his observation is one I have touched upon in recent writings.

I must reiterate, however, that we cannot permit ourselves to be overcome by pessimism, nor by the irrationality and violence of autocrats. To fold one's arms is no solution. The world is not fated to be ruled by narcissists, dictators, or the deranged. Mahatma Gandhi once reminded us that there have always been tyrants and murderers, and for a time they may seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall—always.

The speeches to be delivered in Munich are currently being drafted. It seems to me, therefore, an opportune moment to share a series of thoughts on themes I consider paramount.

I shall begin by quoting Kofi Annan, with whom I worked for several years: "Our mission is to place the human being at the centre of everything we do. No wall is high enough to keep out global problems, and no country is strong enough to solve them alone." Long before him, Martin Luther King Jr. observed that we are "caught in an inescapable network of mutuality" that ensnares us all.

The messages of both men are plain to understand: either we commit to solidarity between peoples, or our societies and the planet, as we know them, can only draw closer to the abyss.

I observe with concern the apologia for "useful subordination," which some term political realism. This so-called realism, to which the Great Powers seek to subjugate us—and which certain theorists and leaders champion—must be regarded as a perilous anachronism. It is a sort of "survival guide" that, under the guise of accepting force as the defining factor in international relations, proposes the abandonment of universal principles in exchange for an illusory stability. This political vision being sold to us stems from the exhausted and dangerous premise of accepting "spheres of influence." In other words, they draw inspiration from the suzerainties and vassalages of yore, claiming them to be the best means of ensuring peace. There must be those in Munich prepared to dismantle this fallacy.

The true strength of a State does not reside solely in its military arsenal. It rests equally upon its legitimacy and the courage of its people. To invest in an atmosphere of fear is the preferred pursuit of dictators and populists. When we allow them to wield that weapon, we march toward perdition. This is happening even amongst us. A climate of dread is developing in Europe. The paralysis engendered by fear is the true weakness of a nation. It is vital that it be said in Munich: we are ready to overcome this terror, from wherever it may come. Audacity, anchored in values, is the answer.

Ukraine serves as a testament to this. Her people know it well. Ukrainian resistance is an act of moral courage proving that a people of free spirit is invincible, even when confronted by an imperial philosophy that views the world through a nineteenth-century lens. Zelensky’s address in Davos was a plea for reflection, though it was somewhat eclipsed by Carney’s speech. Zelensky openly criticised Europe, describing it as a "fragmented kaleidoscope of small and medium powers"—hesitant, dependent on the United States, and lost in internal squabbles while Russian aggression persists and Putin’s oil flows freely along European coasts. He proposed that this oil be seized and the proceeds used to fund the legitimate defence of Ukraine and, by extension, our continent.

It is true that the financial assistance provided to Ukraine by the EU since the illegal Russian invasion of 2022 already exceeds 193 billion euros—a considerable sum, surpassing even that of the Americans. Zelensky may, perhaps, have gone too far in his rhetoric. He did, however, have the merit of underlining that without fierce determination, financial means (including those necessary to procure arms), imagination, and political steadfastness, it will be impossible to withstand Russia’s unjustifiable violence.

It would be well for Zelensky to deliver a similar speech in Munich, but to replace criticisms with proposals. And democratic Europe must respond by showing it grasps the danger that the intentions of Putin—and others—represent. The hybrid war against Europe is already underway; and while the greatest threat emerges from the East, we must not lose sight of threats arriving from other quarters.

All of this reminds us that national sovereignty is an inalienable right which we have a responsibility to protect. This is enshrined in the world's commitment to the Charter of the United Nations. Munich must underscore this, while simultaneously placing the reform of the United Nations on the agenda. This is among the most urgent priorities on the international stage. Those countries that cherish the rule of law, the equality of rights between all States, and peace, have here a standard around which to rally. And a priority.