Brazil stands at a critical juncture that will determine whether it emerges as a strategic power or remains trapped as a raw material supplier in China’s sphere of influence. While President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva’s administration pursues deeper integration with Beijing through initiatives like BRICS expansion and transcontinental infrastructure projects, this path threatens to foreclose the very opportunities that could establish Brazil as an indispensable global partner.

The fundamental question facing Brazil is not whether to leverage its vast mineral wealth, but whether it will do so as a sovereign nation or as a subordinate supplier in China’s economic empire.

The Trap of Raw Material Dependency

Leonardo Coutinho’s analysis in “The China First Doctrine” reveals how Brazil’s current trajectory leads inexorably toward economic subordination disguised as partnership.

Despite Brazil’s position as a supplier of “nearly a quarter of China’s food imports,” Brazilian leadership has failed to recognize this as leverage, instead believing “they cannot upset their client, at the risk of retaliation and sanctions.” This mentality transforms what should be strategic interdependence into dangerous dependency.

The proposed railroad connecting Brazil through Peru to Chinese-controlled ports epitomizes this subordination. As Coutinho notes, Brazil has “committed millions in taxpayer funds to building regional infrastructure that complements China’s strategic investments,” particularly supporting “corridors and financing structures linked to the Port of Chancay in Peru.”

This infrastructure project, while marketed as regional development, actually locks Brazil into a permanent role as raw material exporter to Chinese processors, ensuring that “the central axis of the Chinese plan to reconfigure trade routes between South America and Asia will only be viable with the massive involvement of South American countries.”

Robert Muggah’s vision in “Brazil’s Critical Minerals Moment” of Brazil becoming a “cornerstone supplier” rather than a “warehouse of stranded potential” cannot be realized within this Chinese-dominated framework. The fundamental problem is that China’s strategy explicitly prevents the downstream processing that Muggah identifies as essential for capturing value. As his analysis reveals, “without investment in midstream separation, metals, magnets and chemical conversion, Brazil will export concentrates while most of the value accrues offshore.”

The BRICS Straightjacket

The BRICS framework, far from offering Brazil strategic alternatives, increasingly serves as a mechanism for Chinese dominance over member nations. Lula’s proposal at the recent Rio de Janeiro summit for “a BRICS-exclusive submarine cable system” represents what Coutinho describes as an attempt to “establish a parallel online ecosystem governed by countries largely composed of authoritarian regimes and dysfunctional democracies.” This digital infrastructure would further entrench Brazil’s subordination to Chinese technological standards and surveillance capabilities.

The contrast with Argentina under President Javier Milei demonstrates the viability of alternative approaches.

As Coutinho observes, Milei has shown “how Latin American countries can maintain profitable trade with the Chinese regime without ideological alignment, safeguarding national sovereignty, and guaranteeing benefits for their people.” Crucially, “while selling more products than ever before to the Chinese, Milei has made strides towards establishing trade agreements that will boost trade with the United States.”

This balanced approach, maintaining commercial relationships while avoiding strategic subordination, offers a template for how Brazil could pursue Muggah’s vision of resource-based leverage. However, it requires abandoning the ideological framework that currently drives Brazilian foreign policy.

The Infrastructure of Dependency

The transportation corridor to Chancay represents more than logistics. It embodies a strategic choice that forecloses alternatives. Once completed, this Chinese-financed and controlled infrastructure will create path dependencies that make it increasingly difficult for Brazil to pursue the value-added processing that Muggah identifies as essential. Brazilian minerals will flow directly to Chinese ports and processors, bypassing potential partnerships with democratic allies who might support domestic processing capabilities.

Muggah’s analysis emphasizes that “midstream build-out” in areas like “rare-earth separation, lithium chemicals, nickel sulphate and graphite anodes should be located where power is clean and logistics are reliable.” Brazil possesses these advantages—its “unusually clean grid (90% comes from renewables) confers a reputational edge” over Chinese coal-fired processing. However, the Chancay corridor ensures that these advantages will benefit Chinese processors rather than Brazilian industry.

The timing is crucial. As Muggah notes, “the AI era will test Brazil’s balancing act” as “data-center build-outs and electrified logistics are pushing demand” for critical minerals. If Brazil commits its mineral exports to Chinese-controlled infrastructure before developing domestic processing capabilities, it will miss the window of opportunity that current technological transitions provide.

The Democratic Alternative

For Muggah’s vision to succeed, Brazil must pivot toward partnerships with democratic allies who have both the technology and the strategic interest to support Brazilian value-addition.

The United States, despite current tensions, represents a natural partner for developing downstream processing capabilities. As Muggah observes, “Washington, despite an escalating trade war, wants to ‘friend-shore’ inputs for clean-energy, defence and AI supply chains, and sees Brazil as a possible partner precisely because of its resources and rule-of-law reputation.”

India offers another promising partnership avenue. Unlike China, India lacks the processing dominance that creates exploitative relationships, and its democratic institutions align with Brazil’s stated values. European partners similarly seek to diversify supply chains away from Chinese control while supporting environmental and labor standards that match Brazil’s comparative advantages.

The emerging “Minerals Security Partnership” framework that Muggah references provides a concrete mechanism for this democratic cooperation. Unlike Chinese Belt and Road initiatives that lock countries into dependency relationships, this partnership model envisions “tailored offtakes and joint R&D” that could support the domestic processing capabilities Brazil needs.

The Environmental Imperative

Brazil’s environmental advantages become meaningless if its minerals simply feed Chinese processing facilities that operate under different standards. As Muggah warns, “any perception that licensing guts safeguards or that deforestation rises with mining logistics would swiftly puncture ‘green’ claims.” The Chancay corridor and associated infrastructure development risks exactly this outcome, creating environmental pressures without corresponding domestic benefits.

Democratic partnerships offer superior environmental frameworks. As Muggah notes, “processing powered by hydro and bioenergy scores better on Western ESG screens than coal-fired equivalents in Asia.” However, this advantage only matters if processing occurs in Brazil rather than simply exporting to cleaner-energy partners.

The “Global Minerals Trust” concept that Muggah discusses “led by a coalition of producing and consuming nations” to “pool data, reduce volatility, buffer shocks with shared stockpiles and set audit protocols” represents the kind of multilateral framework that could support Brazilian sovereignty while ensuring responsible development. China’s bilateral approach offers no such safeguards.

The Strategic Choice

Coutinho’s warning that Brazil faces isolation “economically and diplomatically, at a time when its national interests require independence and balance” becomes particularly relevant when viewed through Muggah’s framework. The infrastructure investments that Lula’s government is pursuing will create irreversible dependencies that make the strategic flexibility Muggah envisions impossible.

The recent U.S. sanctions, including tariffs and Magnitsky Act designations, represent what Coutinho describes as “a geopolitical warning aimed at halting a shift that threatens to destabilize the Western Hemisphere.” Rather than viewing these as attacks on sovereignty, Brazil should recognize them as signals that alternative partnerships remain available—but only if Brazil demonstrates genuine strategic independence rather than Chinese alignment.

The Window of Opportunity

Muggah’s analysis reveals that Brazil possesses unique advantages that could support genuine strategic autonomy: vast mineral resources, clean energy, democratic institutions, and environmental leadership. However, these advantages have value only if Brazil maintains the flexibility to partner with multiple actors rather than locking itself into Chinese-dominated supply chains.

The contrast between Brazil’s niobium success and its struggles in other minerals is instructive. As Muggah notes, Brazil “already controls 97% of the global supply via CBMM, whose technological edge and long-term contracts make it a key node for high-strength steels and emerging battery chemistries.” This dominance provides leverage precisely because Brazil developed processing capabilities domestically rather than simply exporting ore to foreign processors.

Replicating this model across other critical minerals requires partnerships with countries that have both the technology and the strategic interest to support Brazilian value-addition. China, with its dominant processing position, has no incentive to support competitive Brazilian capabilities. Democratic partners, seeking to diversify away from Chinese dominance, do.

Conclusion: Sovereignty Through Partnership

The fundamental insight emerging from both analyses is that Brazil’s current path toward Chinese integration forecloses the strategic opportunities that Muggah identifies. The railroad to Chancay, BRICS digital infrastructure, and deepening economic integration all serve to lock Brazil into a raw material supplier role that prevents the domestic value-addition essential for genuine sovereignty.

For Brazil to achieve Muggah’s vision of becoming a “cornerstone supplier” that can “court both East and West without becoming anyone’s appendage,” it must first escape the strategic dependencies that current policies create. This requires recognizing that true sovereignty comes not from ideological alignment with authoritarian powers, but from maintaining the flexibility to partner with democratic allies who share interests in responsible development and strategic autonomy.

As Coutinho concludes, “the United States has drawn a line. The question is: does Brazil know which side it stands on?” The answer should be clear: Brazil’s interests lie with partners who support its development as a processing power rather than its exploitation as a raw material supplier. The geological wealth beneath Brazil’s soil offers unprecedented opportunities—but only if Brazilian policy choices preserve the strategic flexibility necessary to realize them.

Sources:

Leonardo Coutinho. The China First Doctrine: How Lula’s Foreign Policy Threatens Brazil’s Balance, Linkedin (August 1, 2025), https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/china-first-doctrine-how-lulas-foreign-policy-brazils-coutinho-64tle/

Robert Muggah, “Brazil’s Critical Minerals Moment, Linkedin (August 18, 2025), https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/brazils-critical-minerals-moment-robert-muggah-grvsf/

Next year we are publishing our book looking at Middle Powers and Global China:

History rarely repeats itself exactly, but it often rhymes with haunting resonance. The international coalitions that formed around the Spanish Civil War of 1936-1939 and the ongoing conflict in Ukraine since 2022 reveal striking parallels in how major powers align themselves during ideological and geopolitical crises.

Both conflicts transformed from local disputes into global proxy wars that tested the resolve, capabilities, and alliances of the world’s major powers.

Yet the mechanisms of international involvement, the nature of the coalitions, and the broader strategic context have evolved dramatically between these two pivotal moments separated by nearly a century.

The Spanish Laboratory: Prelude to Global War

The Spanish Civil War emerged from a perfect storm of domestic political polarization and international tension. When Francisco Franco’s military uprising began in July 1936, Spain quickly became what one historian called “the dress rehearsal for World War II.” The conflict drew in major European powers not merely as observers or diplomatic mediators, but as active participants testing their military capabilities and ideological commitments.

The international coalitions that formed around Spain reflected the broader political alignments of the 1930s. On one side stood the fascist powers: Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy threw their support behind Franco’s Nationalist forces. Hitler’s Germany provided the infamous Condor Legion, an expeditionary force that gave German pilots combat experience and allowed testing of new aircraft and bombing tactics. The bombing of Guernica in April 1937 became a symbol of fascist brutality but also demonstrated Germany’s willingness to experiment with terror bombing against civilian populations.

Mussolini’s Italy committed even more extensively, sending approximately 50,000 troops, modern aircraft, and substantial military equipment to support Franco. For Mussolini, Spain represented an opportunity to challenge French and British influence in the Mediterranean while advancing fascist ideology.

Opposing them, the Soviet Union under Stalin became the primary international supporter of the Spanish Republic. Moscow provided military advisers, pilots, tanks, and aircraft, though this support came with significant political strings attached. Soviet involvement allowed Stalin to purge Spanish communists and anarchists who didn’t align with his vision, extending his domestic terror campaigns into the international arena.

The democratic powers, Britain and France, officially maintained neutrality through the Non-Intervention Committee, a diplomatic fiction that allowed fascist powers to intervene while constraining aid to the Republic. This neutrality reflected both domestic political divisions and strategic miscalculations about the nature of the fascist threat.

Modern Proxy War: The Ukraine Coalition Structure

The Russian invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 triggered the formation of international coalitions that echo but don’t precisely mirror those of the Spanish Civil War. The supporting coalition for Ukraine centers on NATO and EU member states, with the United States providing the largest share of military and financial assistance. This Western coalition has demonstrated remarkable unity, coordinating sanctions regimes, military aid packages, and diplomatic isolation of Russia with a level of institutional sophistication unavailable in the 1930s.

The breadth of support for Ukraine extends beyond traditional Western allies. Countries like Japan, South Korea, and Australia have provided significant assistance, reflecting how the conflict has been framed as a defense of the international rules-based order rather than merely a European regional dispute.

Russia’s coalition presents a more complex picture. While China provides crucial economic and diplomatic support, it has been careful to avoid direct military assistance that might trigger Western sanctions. Iran has supplied drones and military technology, while North Korea has provided artillery shells and missiles. This coalition reflects shared antagonism toward Western hegemony rather than ideological alignment, marking a significant difference from the more ideologically coherent fascist alliance of the 1930s.

Mechanisms of International Involvement

The methods by which international powers have involved themselves in these conflicts reveal both continuities and dramatic changes in the nature of modern warfare and diplomacy.

In Spain, international involvement was direct and relatively transparent despite official denials. German and Italian pilots flew combat missions, Soviet advisers directed military operations, and foreign volunteers formed entire military units like the International Brigades. The technology of the 1930s required physical presence for effective military assistance—pilots had to fly the planes, advisers had to be present to operate complex equipment, and meaningful intelligence sharing required face-to-face coordination.

The Ukraine conflict operates in a fundamentally different technological environment. Satellite intelligence can be shared in real-time across continents, precision-guided munitions can be operated with minimal training, and cyber warfare capabilities can be deployed without any physical presence. This has enabled what might be called “high-tech proxy warfare” or the provision of sophisticated military capabilities without the direct personnel commitments that characterized earlier conflicts.

Western support for Ukraine has emphasized providing advanced defensive and offensive systems from Javelin anti-tank missiles to HIMARS rocket systems to sophisticated air defense networks while maintaining the fiction of non-belligerent status. Training of Ukrainian forces occurs outside Ukraine’s borders, intelligence is shared through secure channels, and even targeting information is provided for strikes deep into Russian territory.

Russia’s supporters have adopted different approaches reflecting their capabilities and constraints. Iran’s provision of Shahed drones represents a new model of asymmetric military assistance, relatively inexpensive systems that can be produced at scale and cause disproportionate impact. North Korea’s supply of artillery ammunition demonstrates how isolated states can still contribute meaningfully to modern conflicts through traditional military hardware.

Ideological Framing and Global Narratives

Both conflicts became global ideological battlegrounds, but the nature of the competing ideologies and their appeal has evolved significantly.

The Spanish Civil War was framed in stark terms that resonated globally: fascism versus democracy, capitalism versus socialism, tradition versus modernity. These ideological frameworks had clear adherents worldwide and inspired volunteers to travel thousands of miles to fight for their beliefs. The International Brigades attracted approximately 35,000 volunteers from over 50 countries, including prominent writers like George Orwell and Ernest Hemingway who chronicled the conflict for global audiences.

The ideological framing of the Ukraine conflict is both more complex and more contested. Western narratives emphasize democracy versus authoritarianism, international law versus aggression, and the rules-based order versus revisionist powers. These frames resonate strongly in liberal democracies but have less universal appeal than the anti-fascist narrative of the 1930s.

Russia’s counter-narrative focuses on resistance to Western hegemony, protection of traditional values against liberal decadence, and the defense of a multipolar world order. This messaging appeals to countries and populations that have experienced Western intervention or feel marginalized by the current international system, though it lacks the revolutionary appeal that communism held for many in the 1930s.

Economic Warfare and Economic Globalization

Perhaps the most significant difference between the two conflicts lies in the role of economic warfare and the constraints imposed by economic globalization.

The Spanish Civil War occurred in an era of relatively limited economic interdependence. Trade relationships, while important, could be severed without catastrophic economic consequences for the major powers. Financial systems were largely national, and energy dependencies were minimal compared to today’s interconnected global economy.

The Ukraine conflict has been shaped fundamentally by economic warfare on a scale unprecedented in modern history. Western sanctions against Russia have targeted not just military and political figures but entire sectors of the Russian economy, including exclusion from the SWIFT banking system and freezes on central bank assets. Russia’s weaponization of energy exports, particularly natural gas to Europe, has created economic vulnerabilities that didn’t exist in the 1930s.

These economic dimensions have complicated coalition formation. Countries like India and Turkey have maintained relationships with both sides, balancing geopolitical alignments with economic necessities. China’s position reflects similar calculations whereby they provide diplomatic cover for Russia while avoiding sanctions that would damage Chinese access to Western markets and technology.

Military Innovation and Technological Testing

Both conflicts served as laboratories for military innovation, though the pace and nature of technological development has accelerated dramatically.

Spain saw the testing of new aircraft designs, tank tactics, and coordination between different military branches. The lessons learned influenced military doctrine development that shaped World War II. However, the technological gaps between different systems were manageable, and innovations could be countered with existing technologies and tactics.

Ukraine has become a showcase for emerging technologies that are reshaping warfare. Drone swarms, artificial intelligence-assisted targeting, cyber warfare capabilities, and electronic warfare systems are being tested and refined in real combat conditions. The conflict has demonstrated the vulnerability of traditional military assets to relatively inexpensive precision munitions, potentially revolutionizing military planning worldwide.

The speed of innovation has also increased dramatically. New drone designs, software updates, and tactical adaptations can be deployed within weeks rather than years. This has created a continuous cycle of innovation and counter-innovation that keeps both sides constantly adapting their approaches.

International Institutional Context

The institutional frameworks governing international relations have evolved dramatically between the two conflicts, fundamentally altering how international coalitions form and operate.

The Spanish Civil War occurred in the dying days of the League of Nations system, with international institutions proving largely ineffective at managing great power competition. The Non-Intervention Committee became a symbol of institutional failure rather than effective diplomatic mediation.

The Ukraine conflict unfolds within a complex web of international institutions, NATO, the EU, the UN, the G7, and numerous other multilateral organizations. These institutions have provided frameworks for coordinating coalition responses, though they have also constrained the speed and scope of some responses due to consensus requirements and bureaucratic processes.

NATO’s role has been particularly significant, providing a ready-made alliance structure for coordinating military assistance while maintaining the legal fiction that NATO itself is not a party to the conflict. The EU’s coordination of sanctions demonstrates how modern institutional frameworks can enable rapid, comprehensive economic warfare in ways that were impossible in the 1930s.

Regional and Global Power Dynamics

The broader international power structure has shifted fundamentally between these two conflicts, affecting coalition dynamics and strategic calculations.

In the 1930s, the international system was still multipolar, with several European powers maintaining significant global influence alongside the emerging superpowers of the United States and Soviet Union. This allowed for more fluid alliance patterns and gave smaller powers greater agency in choosing sides.

The Ukraine conflict occurs in a transitional moment in international relations when the unipolar moment of American hegemony is fading, but a stable multipolar system has not yet emerged. China’s rise, Russia’s revisionism, and the relative decline of European power have created new dynamics that don’t map neatly onto historical precedents.

This transition has complicated coalition formation. Traditional allies sometimes have divergent interests, Turkey’s position in NATO while maintaining relationships with Russia exemplifies these tensions. Emerging powers like India and Brazil have charted independent courses that reflect their own regional priorities rather than alignment with either major coalition.

Lessons and Implications

The comparison between these conflicts reveals both the persistence of certain patterns in international relations and the dramatic evolution of the mechanisms through which great power competition unfolds.

The tendency for local conflicts to become global proxy wars appears constant where geography and ideology combine to draw in external powers seeking to advance their interests and test their capabilities. However, the methods of involvement have become more sophisticated and less direct, reflecting both technological capabilities and the constraints of nuclear deterrence.

The role of economic interdependence as both a constraint on conflict and a weapon within it represents perhaps the most significant evolution. Modern conflicts must account for complex economic relationships in ways that were unnecessary in earlier eras.

The speed of technological innovation and adaptation has accelerated dramatically, creating more dynamic conflicts where advantages can shift rapidly. This has implications for military planning, alliance structures, and the duration of conflicts.

Finally, the institutional frameworks governing international relations, while more developed than in the 1930s, still struggle to manage great power competition effectively. The UN Security Council’s paralysis during the Ukraine conflict echoes the League of Nations’ ineffectiveness during the Spanish Civil War, suggesting that institutional evolution has not kept pace with the changing nature of international conflict.

Conclusion

The coalitions that formed around the Spanish Civil War and the Ukraine conflict reveal both the enduring patterns of great power competition and the dramatic evolution of international relations over the past century. While the fundamental dynamics of alliance formation, ideological competition, and proxy warfare remain recognizable, the mechanisms of involvement, the role of economic factors, and the pace of technological change have transformed how such conflicts unfold.

Understanding these parallels and differences is crucial for policymakers navigating current challenges and anticipating future conflicts. The Spanish Civil War served as a preview of World War II; the Ukraine conflict may similarly be shaping the contours of future major power competition in ways we are only beginning to understand. The coalitions forming today around this conflict will likely influence international relations for the period ahead, just as the alliances and enmities forged in Spain echoed through the global conflicts that followed.

The study of these historical parallels reminds us that while the tools and methods of international conflict evolve, the fundamental human dynamics of power, ideology, and alliance remain constants in the international system.

How contemporary leaders navigate these dynamics will determine whether the current moment leads toward greater international cooperation or slides toward the kind of global conflict that the Spanish Civil War foreshadowed in the 1930s.