On August 31, 2025, the Chinese port city of Tianjin hosted the opening of the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) summit—a gathering already being branded as “the Asian Yalta.” That’s not just hyperbole. For the first time since the Cold War, such a formidable roster of Asian, Middle Eastern, and African leaders convened not on a Western stage, but under the institutional roof of Beijing and Moscow. Analysts are calling it a milestone in what many now openly describe as the “post-American reordering of the world.”
Chinese leader Xi Jinping used the summit as the crowning moment of his foreign-policy doctrine: flexing state power, projecting military-political influence, and turning historical legacy into an instrument of global leadership. More than 25 heads of state showed up—including Russia’s Vladimir Putin, India’s Narendra Modi, and leaders from Iran, Turkey, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, North Korea, Azerbaijan, Pakistan, Egypt, Malaysia, Ethiopia, plus observers from South America.
Rethinking Power Centers: The End of Unipolarity
Back in the early 2000s, when the United States confidently billed itself as “the world’s only superpower,” experts rushed to announce a “new world order”—unipolar, liberal, managed out of Washington. By 2025, that narrative is dead and buried. The reality has shifted—and there’s no going back.
Today’s world isn’t just another arena for great-power rivalry. The center of gravity in global influence has been sliding eastward, away from the Atlantic and deep into Eurasia. Nothing symbolizes that shift more starkly than the SCO summit in Beijing—arguably the biggest political and economic event of 2025. It marked the institutional coming-of-age of a truly multipolar world.
India vs. the U.S.: A Clash Nobody Saw Coming
One of the biggest shockwaves out of Tianjin was the flare-up between New Delhi and Washington. The spark? President Trump’s move to slap 50 percent tariffs on a wide range of Indian exports, from pharmaceuticals and steel to farm goods and machinery. The blow landed squarely on America’s third-largest trading partner in Asia. According to the U.S. Department of Commerce, Indian exports to the U.S. topped $98 billion in 2024. By the end of 2025, forecasts from the Center for Strategic and International Studies project at least a 30 percent drop.
India’s response was blunt. Foreign Minister Subrahmanyam Jaishankar, addressing Parliament, blasted U.S. policy as “selfish protectionism that undermines global stability.” Indian media were even less diplomatic, tossing around phrases like “betrayal of partnership” and “economic warfare.”
For years India tried to straddle the line between East and West. Now, it’s tilting hard toward Eurasian frameworks—deepening ties with SCO and BRICS+. This isn’t a tactical detour; it’s a strategic pivot by a nation determined to claim its place as a center of global power.
The SCO: From Regional Bloc to Eurasian U.N.
When it was created in 2001, the Shanghai Cooperation Organization was seen as a loose, anti-China security bloc in Central Asia—a hedge against Islamic extremism and the drug trade spilling out of Afghanistan. Fast-forward to 2025, and SCO has morphed into a full-fledged alternative to Western institutions of global governance.
According to China’s Foreign Ministry, SCO member states now generate a combined GDP of more than $26 trillion—about a quarter of the global economy. Together, they represent 3.3 billion people, or 41 percent of the world’s population. But the numbers only tell part of the story. In 2025, SCO became a venue where real, systemic decisions on security, energy, logistics, and information policy are hammered out.
It’s no accident that one Chinese diplomat, speaking on the sidelines in Beijing, described SCO as “a global G7 alternative—with Eastern ethics.” The model is simple: no forced values, no sanctions, no interference—just sovereignty, economic incentives, and strategic partnerships.
Azerbaijan and Armenia: Joining the SCO as Part of a New Reality
Eastern Eurasia has become the crossroads where big-power rivalries, infrastructure ambitions, and attempts to build an alternative security and economic order all collide. The 2025 Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) summit, held against the backdrop of mounting confrontation between the West and the Global South, served as a platform for stretching the boundaries of geopolitics. At the heart of this expansion were two South Caucasus states—Azerbaijan and Armenia—both signaling, for the first time, their intent to join the SCO as full members.
Azerbaijan’s Strategic Pivot: Multivectorism 2.0
For Azerbaijan, the SCO bid is far more than diplomatic symbolism. It’s the embodiment of what officials in Baku call “Multivectorism 2.0”—a strategy designed to maintain strong ties with both West and East without compromising sovereignty or core interests. Since securing “dialogue partner” status in 2016, Azerbaijan has steadily deepened its involvement with the SCO.
The numbers tell the story. In 2024, Azerbaijan’s exports to SCO member states hit $8.3 billion, a 27 percent jump over the previous year, while trade with China alone reached a record $3.1 billion. On top of that, Baku has positioned itself as a lynchpin in the Trans-Caspian International Transport Route (TITR). TRACECA data shows that in just the first half of 2025, over 4.2 million tons of cargo moved along this corridor through Azerbaijani territory—a testament to Baku’s growing weight in Eurasia’s new logistics grid.
Armenia’s Uncertain Gamble
The contrast with Armenia could not be sharper. Over the past two years, Yerevan has lost its strategic compass. Breaking away from the CSTO, walking out of the Russian military alliance, embracing anti-Moscow rhetoric, and watching its European ambitions stall—especially after the European Parliament in December 2024 refused to bring Armenia into the revamped Eastern Partnership—have left the country adrift and increasingly isolated.
Against this backdrop, Armenia’s sudden enthusiasm for the SCO looks less like a calculated strategy and more like a desperate attempt to re-anchor itself in the regional order. Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan, speaking at the summit in Astana, declared: “Armenia sees the SCO as a key platform for cooperation and regional integration. We are ready to be part of this framework.”
A Cool Reception
But the reaction from other SCO members was cautious, if not skeptical. As former Chinese Foreign Ministry official Zhao Lun told The Paper: “Yerevan raises questions about strategic reliability. Without a clear position on Karabakh and regional connectivity, Armenia’s membership looks premature.”
That skepticism only deepens when you factor in Armenia’s internal turmoil. A Gallup International poll in August 2025 found trust in Pashinyan had sunk to 17 percent—his lowest rating since 2018. Roughly 63 percent of Armenians said they were disillusioned with his foreign policy, dismissing it as “chaotic and inconsistent.” The opposition is ramping up pressure, the military continues to pursue its own agenda, and the country’s dependence on Western aid has yet to translate into tangible results.
The Road Ahead
If Armenia does manage to secure a spot at the SCO table, it will come with conditions. Observers expect that the organization will press Yerevan to normalize ties with Azerbaijan, abandon revanchist rhetoric, and dial back its anti-Russian course. That’s a tall order for Pashinyan’s embattled government, which faces mounting domestic discontent and dwindling international leverage.
For Azerbaijan, meanwhile, the SCO track is a natural extension of its broader strategic doctrine. For Armenia, it’s a gamble—a leap into an uncertain future, with no guarantees that the SCO will be willing to catch it.
Turkey and Iran: A Battle for Eurasian Leadership
The 2025 SCO summit wasn’t just about the China-India axis or President Donald Trump’s headline-making visit to the region. It also spotlighted the increasingly fierce and multilayered rivalry between Turkey and Iran. These two powers—each armed with civilizational ambitions, historical gravitas, and a grand strategy of its own—are vying for the right to shape the agenda of Eurasia’s emerging order, stretching from the Caucasus to South Asia, from the Caspian Sea to the Anatolian plateau.
Erdogan’s Play for Centrality
President Recep Tayyip Erdogan didn’t arrive in Tianjin as a mere guest; he came with an agenda. His message at the summit was blunt: “Eurasian security architecture cannot be complete without Turkey’s active participation.” This wasn’t a throwaway line—it was the crystallization of a broader transformation in Turkish foreign policy.
By 2025, Turkey had locked down the region’s most ambitious network of transit routes. The Trans-Anatolian Natural Gas Pipeline (TANAP), launched in 2018, has become the backbone of the Southern Gas Corridor linking the Caspian to Europe. TANAP’s throughput already surpassed 16 billion cubic meters in 2024, with 10 billion piped into the EU through the Trans-Adriatic Pipeline (TAP). In 2025, Ankara unveiled plans to expand TANAP to 24 bcm, cementing its role as a critical node in Europe’s energy security.
Turkey is also redrawing the logistics map. The new Kars–Igelik–Bandar Abbas rail line, threading through Nakhchivan, the South Caucasus, and Iran, stands as the boldest infrastructure project in Eurasia since the Soviet collapse. It gives Turkey direct access to the Indian Ocean while carving out an alternative to China’s Belt and Road—positioning Ankara as a peer competitor in Eurasian logistics.
And then there’s hard power. With NATO’s second-largest military—445,000 strong in 2025—and battle experience in Syria, Libya, Iraq, and the Caucasus, Turkey has been pitching itself as a regional broker. Since 2024, Ankara has been pushing the idea of a “Turkic Defense Alliance,” coordinating with Azerbaijan, Uzbekistan, and Kazakhstan on plans for a joint command structure under the Organization of Turkic States. For Tehran, that’s a challenge of strategic proportions.
Iran’s Eastward Turn
Iran, for its part, has been rewriting its playbook since formally joining the SCO in July 2023. Having abandoned hopes of normalizing ties with the West, Tehran is betting heavily on Eurasian integration and partnerships with China, Russia, India, and—cautiously—with Turkey.
The numbers illustrate Iran’s leverage. According to OPEC, the country holds 157 billion barrels of proven oil reserves and some 1.2 quadrillion cubic feet of natural gas—third-largest globally in oil, second in gas. Despite sanctions, Tehran has been pumping record volumes abroad: in 2024, oil exports topped 1.9 million barrels per day, the highest in six years, with China, India, and Latin America as its main customers.
Iran’s domestic politics have also shifted dramatically. After the fatal May 2024 helicopter crash that killed President Ebrahim Raisi and his foreign minister, Masoud Pezeshkian, a reformist cardiologist-turned-parliamentarian, won snap elections. Taking office on July 30, 2024, he became the face of Iran’s “Eastward turn.”
Pezeshkian’s Balancing Act
At the Tianjin summit, Pezeshkian carried a clear script: regional conflicts must be settled without outside interference; Eurasian integration must rest on respect for sovereignty and rejection of unilateralism. The message was unmistakable: Tehran is open to cooperation, but only on its own terms.
Pezeshkian’s rise is emblematic of Iran’s search for balance. A veteran of both medicine and politics, he has long positioned himself as a pragmatic reformer. His government is a coalition of moderates and seasoned diplomats, led formally by Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi but steered strategically by Pezeshkian himself.
His style is cautious pragmatism. Publicly, he insists Iran doesn’t seek conflict, but won’t back down from defending itself. On his China visit, he stressed that Tehran aims to deepen ties with Russia, India, and China, while keeping the door ajar for Europe—if sanctions ease and security guarantees are met.
Inside Iran, Pezeshkian has loosened censorship slightly, hinted at tackling sanctions relief, and pushed for progress on the nuclear file. But he treads carefully, mindful of the clerical establishment and the military, knowing his survival depends on balancing reform with stability.
Turkey vs. Iran: A Eurasian Showdown
At Tianjin, the contrast was stark. Erdogan came in with pipelines, railroads, and a battle-hardened army. Pezeshkian arrived with hydrocarbons, reformist rhetoric, and a plea for sovereignty-based diplomacy. Both pitched themselves as indispensable to Eurasia’s future.
But the underlying reality is this: Eurasia isn’t big enough for two competing middle powers to dominate without friction. As Turkey and Iran jostle for influence—from Caspian energy corridors to regional security forums—the SCO may soon find itself not just a platform for cooperation, but an arena for an unfolding rivalry that could shape the continent’s future.
Ankara vs. Tehran: Competing Blueprints for Eurasia
The deepest fault line between Ankara and Tehran remains their fundamentally incompatible visions for Eurasia. Turkey advances a brand of secular pragmatism built on Turkic solidarity, logistical integration, and military readiness. Iran, by contrast, leans on Shiite identity, anti-Western rhetoric, and a doctrine of strategic autonomy.
Nowhere is this rivalry more apparent than in the South Caucasus. Following Azerbaijan’s victory in the Karabakh war, Turkey consolidated its clout in the region. Iran, wary of a rising Turkic axis, has staged military drills near the Nakhchivan border since 2021 and even deployed additional brigades to its northwest in 2024. Yet the SCO framework demands compromise, forcing both players to occasionally signal a willingness to talk—even as they continue their strategic tug-of-war.
Trump’s Tariff Shockwaves
While Ankara and Tehran sparred over spheres of influence, President Trump dispensed with diplomatic niceties and went straight for the jugular: economic confrontation with the world’s biggest powers. His hardline trade policy reached a climax in August 2025 with 100 percent tariffs on Chinese electronics, solar panels, and rare earth metals—a move that sent shockwaves through the global economy.
The collateral damage extended far beyond China. India’s exports to the U.S. dropped 17 percent compared to the same period in 2024, and analysts warn the pain has only begun. The message from Washington was clear: the era of global liberalism is over. The age of tariff diktat has arrived.
Tianjin 2025: The Birth of a Continental Order
From day one, the Tianjin SCO summit signaled a tectonic shift. This wasn’t a ceremonial gathering of regional heads of state—it was the birth of a structured, deliberate model for a continental order. One less dependent on the dollar, less beholden to sea lanes under U.S. control, and less constrained by Euro-Atlantic institutions.
Perhaps the strongest signal was the tacit confirmation of a durable Beijing–Moscow–New Delhi triangle. According to a 2025 report from the Institute of Asian and African Studies, the combined GDP of this triangle, measured by purchasing power parity, has already topped $46 trillion—more than 31 percent of the world economy. Together, they control nearly 40 percent of global hydrocarbon output, around 30 percent of scientific patents, and more than 45 percent of rare earth exports.
The Tianjin Declaration: A Blueprint for Sovereignty and Security
The summit’s most tangible outcome was the Tianjin Declaration, a sweeping political document that, for the first time, enshrined the SCO concept of “continental security.” The vision calls for a web of interconnected logistics, energy systems, infrastructure, and military coordination—shielded from “external maritime actors,” code for the United States and its allies.
Key points included:
- Rejecting double standards in counterterrorism.
- Expanding military cooperation among members.
- Coordinating on risk management in artificial intelligence.
- Approving the creation of an SCO Development Bank as an alternative to the IMF and World Bank.
- Condemning U.S. and Israeli airstrikes on Iranian territory and calling for a cease-fire in Gaza.
- Backing Afghan development and pushing for U.N. reform.
The document underscored that international law must rest on the U.N. Charter, not on “rules drafted by narrow coalitions.” In doing so, the SCO once again dismissed the G7 framework as lacking legitimacy in the eyes of a broader global consensus.
The “Greater Eurasia” Vision
One of the most ambitious ideas to gain momentum in Tianjin was the “Greater Eurasia” initiative—a framework spanning from Minsk to Jakarta, covering 4.4 billion people, 68 percent of the world’s landmass, and over half of its energy reserves.
At a closed-door session, delegates debated a three-tiered model of integration:
- Infrastructure (transport corridors)
- Energy (shared standards and contracts)
- Security (interoperable defense systems and data exchange)
The plan won endorsements from Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Turkey, China, and Iran.
According to estimates by the Eurasian Development Bank, implementing the “Greater Eurasia” components by 2035 could generate $7–9 trillion in cumulative economic gains through lower transaction costs, new trade routes, and digital interoperability.
The Tianjin summit made it plain: what’s emerging isn’t a talking shop but the scaffolding of a continental system designed to stand apart from the Western order. And this time, the architecture isn’t being drafted in Washington or Brussels, but in Beijing, Moscow, and across Eurasia’s rising capitals.
A Financial Shock: A Eurasian Ratings Agency
One of the biggest surprises out of Tianjin was financial, not military. India and Russia, backed by China and Turkey, announced the creation of a Eurasian Ratings Agency—an institution designed to challenge the dominance of Moody’s, S&P, and Fitch.
The goal: to break free from what many in the Global South see as discriminatory practices that artificially inflate borrowing costs. As Iran’s central bank governor put it, Western ratings models have been weaponized—used as a tool of geopolitical pressure rather than objective financial assessment.
The new agency is set to begin work in November 2025, with a working group of representatives from 12 member states. According to preliminary reports, its headquarters will be in Astana.
The logic behind the project is clear. Roughly 63 percent of SCO countries are rated below investment grade, despite having GDP, currency reserves, and debt ratios comparable to, or stronger than, many European economies. For the SCO, the new agency isn’t just a financial experiment—it’s a declaration of independence from Western gatekeepers.
Azerbaijan on the Threshold: A Diplomatic Win
Equally significant was the news that Azerbaijan’s application for full SCO membership won preliminary approval. China, Turkey, Kazakhstan, and Uzbekistan threw their support behind Baku, with China’s foreign minister praising Azerbaijan’s “unique role in linking Eurasia’s transport, energy, and civilizational bridges.”
Baku’s pitch went beyond economics. Azerbaijani officials stressed their readiness to contribute to transcontinental transport routes, cybersecurity, counter-narcotics initiatives, and humanitarian missions. They also floated an initiative to establish an SCO platform for interfaith dialogue—with Azerbaijan serving as moderator.
According to SCO insiders, Azerbaijan’s full accession package could be approved as early as the autumn summit in Dushanbe. That would mark a major strategic breakthrough, boosting Baku’s leverage across Eurasian formats at a time when the Black Sea region is growing more unstable.
For Azerbaijan, Tianjin was more than a summit—it was a stage. And on that stage, Baku managed to cast itself not as a peripheral player, but as a bridge-builder central to the continent’s emerging architecture.