Xi and Putin mark the end of Pax Americana in Moscow

The new Yalta signed in Moscow as the West looks on

An army of two million soldiers unable to cross borders to impose its will. An industrial giant from which the West buys much of the technology it claims to dominate. This paradox runs through the summit between Xi Jinping and Vladimir Pilingui in Moscow, interpreted by some as the death certificate of Pax Americana and by others as a mere change of scenery with chairs perfectly arranged. The narrative accompanying it has already dubbed this a new Yalta. A photo alone does not shift the balance of power. But something in the tone has changed, and it is more than just protocol.

What was staged at the Moscow summit

The underlying message is that the multilateral stage has changed hosts: the Chinese and Russian presidents set the pace, while Western exceptionalism voices grievances without altering, they say, the substance of the new order. For the Global South, this performance weighs as heavily as concrete decisions. The thesis is repeated insistently: the shift of the world's axis toward Asia-Pacific is complete, and this meeting serves as its definitive certification. The objection trinc immediately. A summit does not reorder the world by itself, and confusing the red carpet with a treaty is the classic mistake of every era.

Is China a military and technological dwarf?

No, and the label falls apart once you look at the numbers. Two million soldiers under flag and an industrial base that the West cannot replicate at that scale are enough to dismiss the joke. Projecting power is another matter: the United States goes where it wants and acts, while China has not recovered Taiwan, the territory it claims under the principle of One China, and its military has not demonstrated the ability to operate far from home. In technology, nuances divide opinion. An ASPI study places China ahead of the US in 37 out of 44 key technologies, from robotics to quantum computing. Critics point to Huawei when it had to do without Google, arguing that Chinese products are made to sell, not to dominate.

The mirror of Rome: powerful yet in decline

There is a recurring comparison. The Western Roman Empire, in full decline, remained formidable: it stopped Attila at the Catalaunian Plains and the chieftain never entered Rome, yet its end was near. The image projected of the United States is that of an empire in the year 400: lots of inherited muscle, increasingly little margin. Another analogy deepens this: the rulers of Constantinople also believed they lived within a secure and unique system, while a new world grew at their gates, one they called by another name and which eventually entered, with or without permission, centuries later. And there are those who recall that the Spanish Empire remained huge even when no one took it seriously anymore.

Who controls the dollar sustains the army

Here lies the most material argument of all. If China begins to demand yuan instead of dollars in trade with third countries, the greenback loses its reserve function and, with it, the capacity to finance a massive military machine. The conclusion drawn is sharp: Kill the dollar and you kill the United States. The uncomfortable corollary for Europe is that this army is not paid for solely by Washington, but also by countries in its orbit, bases included. The detailed calculation of what it would cost a mid-sized economy to exit this structure is, likely, the part no one puts in writing.

Europe: from partner to forgotten colony

The reading gains weight that the Old Continent has functioned for a century as a province of the empire and that, with the board turning toward Asia, it will end up like those remote colonies no one remembers. The more power the Beijing-Moscow axis holds, some argue, the better off a Europe reduced to a bit player today will be. Others see this as wishful thinking: changing masters is not emancipation. In the middle, the suspicion that European elites defend an order they no longer control, while citizens pay the bill without voting on the design.

And Spain, what about it?

A disturbing diagnosis circulates: that Spain may remain a bastion of the outgoing order in Europe, with a political class maintaining a strikingly uniform discourse on reality. It is an attributed warning, not a proven fact, and the contrary warning also exists: anyone expecting external aid to solve internal problems will get an unpleasant surprise. No one has yet put on the table how this translates into jobs, energy, or debt.

What if the problem isn't who wins the summit, but that the West has nothing left to offer beyond defending an order it doesn't seem willing to pay for even internally?