Vol. III, No. 71
Covering 25 August - 7 September 2025
Monday, September 8, 2025
Late edition · A Relentless publication
All the fortnight that mattered, in technology and in the world, read next to what we were building at the time.
TIANJIN

Pushed away by America, India walks toward China, and the world tilts

At a summit in China, Modi shook hands with Xi and Putin, the leaders of the two powers America has spent a generation warning India against. It was the direct, predictable consequence of a fortnight of American tariffs and insults, and it may reshape the geopolitics of the century.

The strategic cost of America's rupture with India became vivid this fortnight at a summit in the Chinese city of Tianjin, where Prime Minister Narendra Modi appeared alongside China's Xi Jinping and Russia's Vladimir Putin in a tableau of the multipolar world the United States has spent two decades trying to prevent. Modi's visit to China, his first in years, and the warmth of his meetings with Xi, whose armies had clashed with India's in the Himalayas only a few years earlier, and with Putin, marked a deliberate signal from Delhi: that a country punished and insulted by Washington would demonstrate it had other options, other partners, other paths, and would not be bullied into submission by a tariff. The images of the three leaders together, the presumptive democracy and the two authoritarian powers, clasping hands and speaking of a multipolar order, were precisely the geopolitical nightmare the American courtship of India had been designed to avert, and they were the direct, foreseeable consequence of a fortnight of American coercion.

None of this means India has switched sides, and it has not; its rivalry with China remains real and deep, its dependence on the West substantial, its instinct for strategic autonomy a rejection of all blocs, not an embrace of a new one. But the direction of the drift is unmistakable and, from Delhi's perspective, entirely logical. A country treated as a partner will behave as one; a country treated as a delinquent to be disciplined will hedge, will diversify, will demonstrate that it has alternatives, will drift toward the very powers it was being courted to oppose. America spent two decades and enormous effort drawing India westward, and undid a meaningful part of it in a fortnight of tariffs and insults, and the picture from Tianjin, of Modi between Xi and Putin, is the receipt. The century's most consequential relationship was strained, perhaps durably, not by any grand strategic rupture but by the simple, corrosive application of coercion to a proud nation that responds to it by walking, deliberately, the other way.

WASHINGTON

The Pentagon is renamed the "Department of War"

In a change laden with symbolism, President Trump signed an order on September 5 to rename the Department of Defense the "Department of War," reviving the name the department bore until 1947, when it was deliberately changed to "Defense" as the country, having just fought the most destructive war in history, sought to frame its vast military as an instrument of protection rather than aggression. The reversal, casting off the language of defence for the language of war, was characteristic of an administration that prizes strength and disdains the softer vocabulary of the postwar order, and it drew unease from those who noted that the words a nation chooses for its military both reflect and shape how it thinks about the use of force.

IN BRIEF

The tariffs ruled illegal; a strike at sea; a fight over the Fed

A federal appeals court ruled on August 29 that the emergency powers Trump used to impose most of his tariffs were unlawful, a major legal blow that the administration will appeal to the Supreme Court, leaving the entire edifice of the trade war under a legal cloud. American forces struck and destroyed a boat off Venezuela on September 2, alleging it carried drugs, killing those aboard without trial in what critics called an extrajudicial killing. And the president's campaign to bend the Federal Reserve to his will intensified as he moved to fire a governor, testing the central bank's cherished independence in the courts.

The Column

The friend you push away

America spent 20 years courting India and undid much of it in a fortnight. I write this from Delhi, and I want to explain the logic of how my country is responding, because it is a lesson about relationships that reaches far beyond nations.

I write this from India, watching my country do something that its own strategists have spent two decades arguing against, drift toward China and Russia, and I want to explain why it is happening, because the explanation is not really about geopolitics; it is about the universal logic of how relationships respond to how they are treated, and it is a lesson anyone who has ever managed a partnership, a team, an alliance of any kind, should understand. America did not lose India this fortnight to a superior Chinese offer or a grand strategic realignment. It lost ground with India because it treated a proud partner as a delinquent, and proud partners, whether nations or people, do not respond to coercion with submission. They respond by demonstrating that they have other options.

Here is the logic, and it is worth understanding precisely because it is so often gotten wrong by the powerful. When you have a partner who values the relationship but also values their own dignity and autonomy, which describes India exactly, and most worthwhile partners, you can influence them enormously through respect, patience and the accumulation of trust, the slow work of two decades that the US-India relationship represented. But the moment you switch from persuasion to coercion, from "we are partners with shared interests" to "do what we say or be punished," you trigger something deep in any proud party: the need to prove they cannot be bullied, that they have alternatives, that their cooperation was a choice and not a submission. And so coercion applied to a proud partner produces the opposite of compliance; it produces defiance, hedging, the deliberate demonstration of independence, the walk toward the other options precisely to prove that the other options exist. The harder you squeeze a proud partner, the more they will show you they can leave.

This is why the American move was not just distasteful but strategically self-defeating, and why the lesson generalises so widely. The entire value of the US-India relationship to America was that India was choosing, freely, to align its interests with the West, and that free choice was worth infinitely more than any coerced compliance could be, because a partner who chooses you is loyal and a partner who is coerced is looking for the exit. By switching from courtship to coercion, America converted a freely-chosen alignment into a resented submission, and a resented submission is not an asset; it is a partner counting the days until they can demonstrate their independence, which is exactly what Tianjin was. You cannot bully a proud partner into loyalty. You can only earn it, slowly, through respect, and you can lose it quickly through coercion, and the coercion does not even get you the compliance it sought, because the proud partner would rather pay the price of defiance than accept the humiliation of submission.

The lesson, for anyone who holds power in a relationship, national or corporate or personal, is one the powerful perpetually forget because power makes coercion feel like an option: that the best partnerships are held together by respect and mutual benefit, not by leverage, and that the moment you reach for the leverage, you have signalled that the respect is gone, and a proud partner will respond not by complying but by leaving, or by demonstrating they can. America had, in India, a partner worth a great deal, held by two decades of patient respect. It reached for the leverage, the tariff, the insult, the public discipline, and my country responded exactly as a proud partner responds, by walking to Tianjin and shaking hands with the alternatives. The leverage did not produce compliance. It produced the picture of Modi between Xi and Putin. That is what reaching for coercion with a proud partner buys you: not obedience, but the receipt for the trust you just spent. America will spend years trying to earn back what it burned in a fortnight, and it may not fully succeed, because trust, once a proud partner learns you will coerce them, does not fully return.

The Ledger
AI
A geopolitically dominated fortnight. The deeper AI story runs beneath it: India's drift toward China and Russia has a technology dimension too, as Delhi weighs its dependence on American chips, models and platforms against a relationship it can no longer fully trust.
Data centers & power
The tariff ruling's legal cloud adds uncertainty to the chip supply the build-out depends on; the geopolitical fragmentation threatens the global technology supply chains that half-trillion-dollar AI vision assumes.
Rates
The appeals-court tariff ruling, and the fight over Fed independence, add legal and institutional uncertainty to an economy already navigating a weakening labour market. A September cut looks near-certain.
Real estate
US 30-year mortgage 6.50 percent (September 4), continuing to ease. The market thaws as the economy cools and rate cuts approach; weakness, again, the driver of relief.
India tech
The strategic drift on display at Tianjin has direct consequences for India's technology sector, long oriented toward American clients and markets. A durable cooling of the relationship would force a painful diversification, toward Europe, toward domestic demand, toward a multipolar client base, exactly the hedging the country's instincts favour.
What we called wrong
Nothing to retract. Tianjin confirms this paper's read from the tariff rupture: coercion applied to a proud partner produces defiance, not compliance, and America's punishment of India has pushed it toward exactly the powers the courtship was meant to counter.
The Back Page

Defence, and War

In 1947, two years after the most destructive war in human history ended, the United States renamed its military establishment. It had been the Department of War, a name it had borne since 1789, plain and honest about its function. And a country that had just seen what modern war actually did, the cities erased, the tens of millions dead, the camps, the bomb, chose deliberately to rename it the Department of Defense, because it wanted to frame its enormous military power as an instrument of protection rather than conquest, to signal, to itself and the world, that its vast strength was held for defence and not aggression. It was a small thing, a word, but words matter, and the choice reflected a hard-won wisdom: that a nation should think of its military in terms of what it protects, not what it destroys, because how you name a thing shapes how you use it. This fortnight, that choice was reversed, the word "Defense" cast off, the word "War" restored, by an administration that finds the language of protection weak and the language of war strong. It is, its defenders say, just a name. But the country that changed it in 1947 understood that it was not just a name, that the words a nation uses for its instruments of force both express and shape its relationship to violence, and that to call your military a Department of Defense is to remind yourself, every time you say it, what the power is supposed to be for. The reversal this fortnight is a small thing, and a telling one, and the people who chose "Defense" in 1947, having just seen where "War" leads, would have recognised exactly what the change of a single word signals about the change of a nation's mind.