In the sun-drenched halls of Davos, nestled amidst the soaring Swiss Alps, once reverberated the fervent chants of “Davos Man”. This superclass figure was born in the optimistic fog of the 1990s at the peak of post-Cold War globalisation. His creed: Open markets, unfettered capital flows, and a borderless world pulsating with the exchange of ideas and talent. His utopia: A level playing field, a seamlessly connected planet where prosperity trickles down under the banner of a universalised globalisation model. The Davos Man was the peak representation of a flat world where a superclass of global elites was still able to reach a consensus on global challenges and risks. This almost looks like a bygone era, as the crystalline facade of Davos’ optimism has cracked. The tectonic plates of global order have shifted, and the world has entered an era of disorder, birthing a new breed: The “Geopolitical Man”. He stands in the debris of fractured consensus, where free markets are becoming secondary to nationalism, populism, and state conflict.
The tremors that toppled Davos Man began subtly. Rising inequality, the gnawing anxiety of free trade, undeniable anti-elitism, and simmering resentment against mass immigration eroded his foundations. It’s tempting to dismiss these populist sentiments as fringe elements, merely fanned by charismatic figures who weaponised anxieties against the Davos elite. But from Argentina to France, and the United States to the United Kingdom, the anger runs deeper. These charismatic populists were not the cause, but rather a symptom, a manifestation of a much more structural malaise.
The fault lines under the post-Cold War order deepened with the rise of revisionist powers. China, once the engine of global supply chains and the world’s factory, transformed into a formidable strategic competitor as its economic and military might flexed in the Indo-Pacific, stretching across Asia. Meanwhile, the West, lulled into a post-Cold War slumber, scrambled to adapt. The challenge wasn’t merely redefining its role in a multipolar world, but grappling with the very identity of the West itself. Divisions widened across racial, economic, and strategic lines, even between the US and Europe. Russia has decided that it can revert the clock and carve out a territorial space in Eastern Europe starting with Ukraine, to undermine the broader pillars of European security.
While China and Russia dominate headlines as challengers to the US-led world order, a growing chorus of middle and regional powers are pushing back against a simplistic bipolar narrative. From Turkey and India to Saudi Arabia and Indonesia, these states refuse to be mere pawns in a superpower game. Instead, they’re carving out their own spaces through agile minilateral partnerships that serve their specific interests, sometimes overlapping, sometimes clashing, with the agendas of the superpowers. For example, Saudi Arabia and the UAE’s participation in China’s Belt and Road Initiative doesn’t preclude them from joining the US-backed India-Middle East-Europe Corridor. Similarly, India’s membership in the I2U2 format (India-Israel-US-UAE) doesn’t necessarily contradict its engagement with the BRICS grouping. These middle powers are playing a complex game, seeking both cooperation and leverage within the existing order while pushing for a more multipolar future.
The Davos Man now confronts a new reality where industrial policy, national security concerns, and ideological divides take precedence over market efficiency and open competition. Supply chains are being rerouted, technology is being decoupled, and alliances are being formed along civilisational lines. The once-universal solvent, the flow of capital, now undergoes scrutiny and restriction. In this fragmented landscape, pragmatism and realpolitik hold sway. Nations, balancing interconnectedness with resolute self-interest, seek economic growth within the confines of national security, technological independence, and the socio-economic well-being of their working class. Cooperation is not discarded, but wielded as a calculated tool, only when it aligns with their strategic calculus.
In this newly fractured world order, the rules are in constant flux. Multilateralism, once the bedrock of global governance, now strains under the weight of competing interests. Power politics, dormant for a brief interlude, has returned with a vengeance. However, amidst the wreckage, the embers of hope still flicker. The challenges we face—climate change, pandemics, inequality—require global solutions. Despite the growing nationalism and scepticism of globalisation, nations cannot escape the interconnectedness of their reality. The echoes of Davos Man still whisper, reminding them of the benefits of cooperation and the perils of retrenchment.
Finding a new balance in this fractured order will be the defining challenge of our time. There must be a balance of national ambitions with the need for global cooperation. And perhaps, just perhaps, in the crucible of this fractured order, a new, more inclusive vision of globalisation can emerge, one that addresses the grievances of the disenfranchised and respects the diversity of our world.
The writer is a director at the Middle East Institute, a member of McLarty Associates, and a visiting fellow at Third Way
