The binary is dead. For decades, the geeks in DC and the bureaucrats in Brussels operated on a simple, binary logic: you were either with the "Rules-Based Order" or you were a pariah. It was a comfortable, if boring, way to view the world. You picked a side, signed the trade deals, and pretended that the US Navy was the only thing keeping the internet from snapping in half.
That world is gone. It didn’t die in a sudden flash of light, but in the slow, grinding reality of supply chain hiccups and semiconductor shortages. Now, we’re left with the wreckage. And in this mess, two countries are showing the rest of the world how to play the middle without getting crushed by the gears.
India and Malaysia aren't trying to save the world order. They’re trying to rent it out.
Take India. New Delhi has mastered the art of the strategic shrug. While the West screams for a total boycott of Russian energy, India quietly ramped up its imports of discounted Urals crude, refined it, and sold it back to the very people complaining. It’s a cynical, brilliant piece of arbitrage. They aren't doing it to be edgy; they’re doing it because their energy bill is massive and their voters don't care about the moral purity of their gas tank.
At the same time, Narendra Modi is rolling out the red carpet for Apple and Foxconn. The pitch is simple: "We aren't China, but we have the scale." It’s working. India’s push for a domestic chip ecosystem isn't some idealistic dream of self-reliance—it’s a $10 billion subsidy-fueled grab for the "China Plus One" crowd. They’re betting that the world’s desperation to diversify away from Beijing is stronger than the world’s annoyance with India’s stubborn neutrality. It’s a $10 billion gamble on being the least-bad option for a tech world that’s terrified of a Taiwan Strait blockade.
Then there’s Malaysia. If India is the loud, swaggering giant, Malaysia is the quiet guy in the corner of the party who happens to own the venue.
For a long time, Malaysia was just where your old Dell laptop went to get its final assembly. But look at Penang now. It’s become a critical chokepoint in the global semiconductor flow. Malaysia currently handles about 13% of the world’s chip testing and packaging. That’s not a small number. It’s a leverage point.
Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim is playing a game that would make a Cold War diplomat sweat. He’s courting billions in investment from Amazon and Google for data centers, while simultaneously telling the US that Malaysia won’t stop doing business with Huawei. He knows the secret: everyone needs the chips to keep flowing. If the US pushes too hard on the China stuff, they risk breaking the very supply chain they’re trying to protect. Malaysia isn't picking a side because picking a side is for losers. They’d rather be the neutral ground where everyone’s hardware has to pass through, regardless of who’s winning the trade war this week.
It’s messy. It’s inconsistent. It drives the State Department insane. But it’s also the most honest version of geopolitics we’ve seen in years.
These middle powers have realized that the "rupture" in the world order isn't a crisis to be fixed—it’s a market opportunity. They’re leverage-testing the superpowers. They know that Washington needs them to contain China, and Beijing needs them to bypass US sanctions. By staying in the middle, they get the tech transfers, the factory floors, and the preferential trade terms.
The trade-off is friction. There’s the constant risk of a "secondary sanction" hitting a local bank or a sudden shift in US policy that turns a neutral partner into a target. There’s the domestic tension of balancing Western liberal values—which look good on a pitch deck for a New York IPO—with the reality of local politics that often lean toward the illiberal.
The old guard calls this "multi-alignment." That’s a fancy word for playing both ends against the middle. It’s what happens when the global police force gets tired and the global factory gets too expensive. India and Malaysia aren't outliers; they’re the prototype. They’ve looked at the crumbling pillars of the 20th century and decided they’d rather build their own porches with the bricks.
We used to talk about the world "flattening." Now, it’s just fracturing. The big question isn’t whether the US or China will win this round. The question is how many more countries will realize that the best way to survive a divorce is to make sure you’re the one holding the keys to both houses.
It’s not a particularly noble way to run a planet. But in a world where the old rules are mostly just suggestions, it’s a very effective way to make sure the lights stay on. It turns out that being a "swing state" is a lot more profitable than being a loyal foot soldier.
The era of choosing a side is over, and the era of the mercenary middle has begun. Don't expect a thank-you note from the countries currently making a killing off the chaos. They’re too busy checking the spot price of silicon and the shipping schedules in the Malacca Strait.
It makes you wonder if anyone in DC or Beijing actually realized that by trying to force everyone into two camps, they just made the people in between the most powerful players on the board.
The middle powers aren't stuck in the crossfire. They’re the ones selling the ammo to both sides and charging a premium for the delivery.
