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South America

The “Global South” Isn’t a Place. It’s a Position.

By: Naseem Qader

In today’s global landscape, terminology is never just descriptive— it’s diplomatic. And the language we use to frame the world often reveals more about power than geography.

In diplomacy, the terms we use aren’t just descriptors—they’re instruments. They shape alliances, steer resources, and determine whose interests are prioritized on the global stage.
Today, the phrase “Global South” appears in climate communiqués, policy memos, and development strategies—and increasingly in the language of public diplomacy. It’s meant to signal solidarity. But whose solidarity—and at what cost?

What we call the world reveals how it’s built. Labels like “Global South” often suggest inclusion. But more often, they encode a position—one of adaptation, not authorship. Behind the naming lies a deeper tension: Who is the global system designed for? And who is expected to adjust to it?

Let’s be clear: “Global South” is not a geography. It’s an assignment. The term stretches across more than 130 countries—from nuclear powers like India to digitizing economies such as Kenya and Vietnam, from Gulf oil monarchies to climate-vulnerable nations in the Pacific such as Tuvalu and the Maldives. What unites them is not proximity or governance—but a shared exclusion from global rule-making.

Like “Middle East” or “Latin America,” the term flattens. “Africa” becomes a single noun encompassing 54 countries and over 2,000 languages. As Chinua Achebe famously wrote, “Africa is people. It is not a concept. It is not a geographical expression… It is not the patrimony of European powers.” That reminder still resonates in diplomacy, where shorthand often obscures sovereignty. “The Middle East” groups Israel, Iran, and Yemen under a Cold War-era construct. “Latin America” erases Indigenous sovereignties like the Mapuche, Aymara, and Quechua into a colonial linguistic legacy.

These weren’t names chosen by the communities themselves. They were assigned by global systems that needed the world to be legible—on their terms.

But naming has never gone uncontested. And in that resistance, some of the most enduring insights have emerged.

In the 1950s, Argentine economist Raúl Prebisch warned that global trade rules weren’t neutral—they were designed to entrench advantage, laying the groundwork for what became the Prebisch–Singer hypothesis. His critique remains relevant today in how carbon credits are priced, how financial “risk” is modeled, and how access to aid is still conditioned by externally set criteria.

Tongan‑Fijian scholar Epeli Hauʻofa reframed the Pacific not as “islands in a far sea,” but as“a sea of islands”— relational, connected, expansive. His critique wasn’t merely geographic—it challenged the entire worldview that cast the Pacific as marginal and remote.

And decades earlier, Edward Said warned: “When you don’t define yourself, others will.”

These thinkers weren’t just critiquing terminology. They were reclaiming narrative sovereignty—the right to name, not just be named.

For public diplomacy professionals, these redefinitions are more than theoretical. They offer a model for how we engage—starting from lived experience, not inherited shorthand.

Today, the challenge continues in more complex forms. Borders are no longer only territorial. They are algorithmic, linguistic, and embedded in digital systems.

Consider that languages spoken by hundreds of millions—such as Swahili, Tamil, Quechua, and Hausa—remain underrepresented in AI systems, with low-resource languages comprising less than 1% of most training data.  When your language is missing from the dataset, your experience is missing from the future.

Digital finance now encodes old hierarchies through new tools. Smart contracts shape infrastructure lending. Debt is scored by algorithms built on external norms. Climate‑vulnerable communities are asked to fund their own adaptation—through systems they didn’t design.

These aren’t just technical shifts. As the global system digitizes, inherited frames are being embedded into the platforms and protocols that govern tomorrow’s diplomacy. The colonial template hasn’t disappeared—it’s been modernized and hard‑coded.

What makes this moment particularly urgent is how the term “Global South” is being revived—not just as critique, but as brand. It appears in bloc‑building, in strategic communications, and in institutional language—most notably at the 2025 BRICS Summit in Rio, which proclaimed a vision for “Global South cooperation” and “more inclusive governance.” Even when states or blocs use the term “Global South” to project unity or assert leverage, they’re still operating within a framework they didn’t author. Strategic use doesn’t equal narrative control.

Rhetorical solidarity isn’t structural transformation. The term may shift who speaks—but not always who decides. It’s often invoked to suggest alignment, even when the underlying systems remain unchanged.

And when recognition depends on aligning with trauma, donor frameworks, or geopolitical groupings, identity becomes a performance. The label begins to obscure more than it reveals.

This has real implications for diplomacy. AI governance is being shaped in dominant languages, with training data that leaves vast regions behind. Climate finance often centralizes power, reinforcing dependency. And the platforms through which global narratives flow—media, education, policymaking —continue to privilege dominant frameworks that define what counts as legitimate knowledge—and whose voice counts.

When these labels go unexamined, they shape how policies are framed, how trust is built, and who is invited to participate as an equal partner in global decision‑making. If diplomacy is the architecture of global understanding, then language is the scaffolding. And when that scaffolding is built on outdated frames, entire communities are misrepresented—or excluded altogether.

So the question is not whether to use the term “Global South.”

It’s whether we’re willing to interrogate what it does.

When multilateral institutions, diplomatic actors, or global alliances invoke inherited frames, we must ask: Which country? Whose voice? What assumptions are being reinforced —and for whose benefit?

Because it’s not just the map that’s being contested. It’s the right to hold the pen.

That’s the challenge—and opportunity—of public diplomacy today: not simply to translate across borders, but to help reimagine the frame itself.

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Looking Ahead: Argentina Under Milei

One Man’s “Chainsaw Plan”

On Nov. 19, 2023, Libertarian Party presidential candidate Javier Milei defeated Union For The Homeland candidate Sergio Massa in a runoff election for the Argentine presidency with 55.7% of votes, the highest for any candidate in the country’s history. The far-right self-proclaimed “anarcho-capitalist” led a campaign based on state reformation to address Argentina’s economic challenges, specifically its high inflation and debt. His “Chainsaw Plan” consisted of cutting public spending, halving the government’s ministries from 18 to nine, eliminating the central bank and selling state owned companies. Milei’s plans will demand pragmatic approaches. His party, La Libertad Avanza, has a minority in the senate with only seven of 72 positions and 38 of 157 deputies, forcing him to seek multi-party support. Since his inauguration, he has dropped some of his more drastic campaign messages, such as eliminating the central bank and switching from the peso to the United States dollar. Milei’s impact as Argentina’s president on the future of the country has yet to be determined.

Economic Shock 

Milei’s presidency comes at a time when Argentina is facing a severe economic crisis with inflation of 161%, a drought that is shrinking its agriculturally dependent economy, a heavily devalued currency, as well as $45 billion owed to the International Monetary Fund (IMF). Milei’s austerity measures are anticipated to be helpful for Argentina’s economy in the long term, but are met with anxiety due to the short term shocks it will cause. Economic Minister of the Argentine Republic Luis Caputo announced on Dec. 12, 2023, that the government would be cutting subsidies for transportation and fuel, and the Argentine Peso would be devalued by over 50% from 391 pesos to a dollar, to 800 pesos. For Argentinians, this devaluation will increase the cost of living as imported goods will become more expensive due to the decreased purchasing power of the peso. However, this could benefit Argentina’s exports by making them more competitive in the global market and consequently stimulating its economy. This change was met with approval by the IMF for helping economic stability and laying a foundation for more private-sector driven growth.

International Implications

Prior to his presidency, Milei took hard stances on Argentina’s foreign policy. He promised to leave the Mercosur, a free trade area consisting of Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Paraguay, and Uruguay. His administration’s foreign minister, Diana Mondino, however, has since reaffirmed the administration’s desire for Mercosur’s growth and the administration has contributed to negotiation attempts for a free trade agreement between Mercosur and the European Union.

For the U.S. and China, Milei’s presidency may indicate stronger U.S.-Argentine relations and more distant relations with China. While campaigning, Milei vocalized his alignment with the United States and Israel. For his first trip after the election, Milei met with U.S. National Security Adviser Jake Sullivan and highlighted his support for values of freedom. Milei’s sentiment of not wanting to “deal with communists,” throughout his campaign has insinuated a desire for reduced relations with China. On Dec. 19, China halted a $6.5 billion extension of the existing currency swap with Argentina’s previous president, Alberto Fernández. Argentina has benefitted from Chinese energy investment and consumption of Argentinian soybean and lithium exports. Additionally, despite receiving a letter from China’s President, Xi Jinping, Milei has halted plans for Argentina to join BRICS– an intergovernmental organization consisting of Brazil, Russia, India, China, South Africa, Egypt, Ethiopia, Iran, and the United Arab Emirates. These actions could indicate more distant Chinese-Argentine relations in the future.

Written by Research & Development Intern, Eli Sepulveda

Photo credit: Rory Elliott Armstrong & Katy Dartford with Associated Press

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