Nuzhat Nazar
On a summer day in 1944, as Allied forces pushed deeper into Europe and Nazi Germany’s defeat appeared increasingly inevitable, some of Germany’s most powerful industrialists gathered in Strasbourg. The war was not yet over. Cities were burning, armies were retreating and the fate of Europe hung in the balance. Yet the discussion in that room was not about tanks, battle plans or military strategy. It was about business.
According to historical accounts, representatives of some of Germany’s largest industrial groups met to discuss how their companies and assets could survive regardless of who won the war. While soldiers fought on the battlefield, industrialists were already planning for the economic order that would emerge afterward.
The lesson was simple: powerful states may wage wars, but powerful economic interests are often thinking beyond them.
More than eighty years later, the same reality was visible in a very different setting.
When US President Donald Trump arrived in China accompanied by some of America’s most influential business leaders, the images carried a message far larger than the visit itself. Here was the leader of a country that describes China as its principal strategic competitor, standing alongside executives whose companies depend on Chinese markets, Chinese consumers and Chinese supply chains.
It was a reminder that behind every geopolitical rivalry lies an economic story.
The Russian revolutionary Vladimir Lenin once observed that “politics is a concentrated expression of economics.” More than a century later, that statement continues to explain much of international affairs. Countries speak the language of security, ideology and national interest, but beneath these narratives lies a constant pursuit of markets, resources, technology and wealth.
The famous Prussian strategist Carl von Clausewitz wrote that “war is a continuation of politics by other means.” Looking at history, one might reasonably extend the argument further and conclude that many political struggles themselves are a continuation of economic competition.
Throughout history, economics has often shaped the course of geopolitics more profoundly than ideology.
Consider the Spanish Civil War. While the conflict was presented as a battle of competing political visions, economic interests were never far away. American oil company Texaco supplied Francisco Franco’s forces with critical fuel. In return, the company secured significant commercial advantages once Franco emerged victorious. Political outcomes and economic interests moved hand in hand.
The same pattern appeared elsewhere. Historian Walter Görlitz argued that economic grievances and commercial interests influenced political alignments in Europe before the Second World War. Business leaders and industrial interests often viewed political developments through the lens of economic opportunity and loss.
Even modern national security doctrine reflects this reality.
Following the September 11 attacks, many expected the immediate focus of the United States government to be purely military. Instead, one of Washington’s first concerns was economic continuity. Banks, stock exchanges, airlines and businesses were urged to resume operations as quickly as possible. The message was clear: economic paralysis could inflict damage that terrorists alone could never achieve.
Economic strength was itself a component of national security.
Perhaps no example better illustrates the connection between economics and geopolitics than Afghanistan.
For decades, opium production has been a central feature of Afghanistan’s rural economy. After the US-led intervention in 2001, various studies examined alternatives that could replace poppy cultivation. One proposal suggested expanding cotton production in areas where climate and soil conditions were suitable.
On paper, the idea made sense. Cotton could provide employment, generate exports and offer farmers a legal alternative to narcotics. Yet the proposal never gained significant traction. Critics argued that cheap Afghan cotton would have created new competition within global markets, raising uncomfortable questions about who benefits and who loses from economic development.
Whether one accepts every aspect of that argument or not, the broader point remains difficult to ignore: economic interests frequently shape policy choices just as much as security concerns.
This reality is even more apparent in the twenty-first century.
The great contest between the United States and China is often described as a struggle over military power, Taiwan, the South China Sea or competing political systems. These issues matter, but they are not the whole story.
The deeper competition revolves around semiconductors, artificial intelligence, rare earth minerals, advanced manufacturing, supply chains and technological leadership. The strategic resources of the modern era are no longer colonies or conquered territories. They are data, technology, innovation and access to markets.
This explains why the presence of corporate executives alongside political leaders has become increasingly significant. Technology firms influence foreign policy. Investment decisions affect diplomatic relationships. Supply chains shape strategic calculations. A semiconductor factory can now carry geopolitical significance comparable to a military installation.
In many respects, economic weapons have become as important as military ones.
Sanctions, export controls, technology restrictions, tariffs and financial pressure have emerged as the preferred instruments of modern statecraft. Rather than deploying armies, states increasingly seek to influence rivals through markets, finance and technology.
This is precisely why Trump’s China visit mattered.
It was not simply a diplomatic engagement. It was a visual representation of a changing international system where presidents, CEOs and investors operate within the same geopolitical arena. The boardroom and the foreign ministry are no longer separate worlds. They are increasingly interconnected.
The great powers still maintain armies, fleets and nuclear arsenals. Yet the decisive battles of the twenty-first century may be fought less over territory and more over technology, supply chains and economic influence.
The world often asks who rules through military power. History suggests a different question.
Who controls the money, the markets and the technology?
More often than not, that is where real power resides.
