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Temas de relações internacionais, de política externa e de diplomacia brasileira, com ênfase em políticas econômicas, viagens, livros e cultura em geral. Um quilombo de resistência intelectual em defesa da racionalidade, da inteligência e das liberdades democráticas. Ver também minha página: www.pralmeida.net (em construção).
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Unwavering Support
Foreign Policy, July 7, 2026

French President Emmanuel Macron (right) shakes hands with Syrian President Ahmed al-Sharaa during a visit to the Umayyad Mosque in Damascus, Syria, on July 6.Ludovic Marin/AFP via Getty Images
Syrian President Ahmed al-Sharaa was hoping to demonstrate Syria’s shift toward democracy during his first Damascus-hosted summit with a major Western leader on Tuesday. Instead, French President Emmanuel Macron’s historic visit was marred by violence as explosions in the capital—the second such attack this month—injured at least 18 people. No group has claimed responsibility for either attack.
Just two years ago, Sharaa had a $10 million U.S. bounty on his head for his ties to al Qaeda. However, since ousting longtime dictator Bashar al-Assad in December 2024, Sharaa has implemented democratic reforms in an effort to rebrand his (and his country’s) global image. In a little more than a year, Syria has joined the U.S.-led coalition against the Islamic State, convinced the European Union to lift all economic sanctions on Syria, signed investment deals worth tens of billions of dollars to rebuild the war-torn country, and allowed millions of Syrian refugees to return home.
Yet bouts of violence by religious and ethnic minorities have plagued Sharaa’s efforts. Many groups remain skeptical of his agenda. Across the country—particularly in regions with large Alawite, Druze, and Kurdish communities—hundreds of people have been killed in clashes between government forces and minority rebels. And on Thursday, a bombing at a crowded café in Damascus killed at least 10 people and injured more than 20 others.
However, Macron’s faith in Syria’s future appears to be unwavering. “Nothing can smother the aspiration of Syrian women and men to live in a fully sovereign, safe, pluralistic, and united Syria,” Macron wrote on X on Tuesday just hours after the explosions. “This morning, I met Syria in all its diversity. I saw dignity, courage, and determination.”
Macron signaled his support for Sharaa’s government by carrying out his scheduled meetings even after the explosions had occurred. During these talks, the two leaders signed more than a dozen agreements, including a pact to reappoint their ambassadors for the first time in roughly 14 years.
“France is ready to be a partner,” Macron said, adding that Paris will return more than $50 million in confiscated assets that once belonged to Assad’s family.
Tuesday’s deals also included new efforts to bolster cooperation in healthcare, transportation, and banking. French investment dominated discussions, with the CEOs of TotalEnergies and French container shipping group CMA CGM accompanying Macron in Damascus. Regional security issues were also addressed, as Macron warned Sharaa against deploying Syrian forces to Lebanon—a strategy that U.S. President Donald Trump has suggested could be useful to fight Hezbollah—and Sharaa pushed for greater Syrian influence in the Strait of Hormuz.
“Syria, which shaped its recovery and reconstruction priorities by the hands of its own people, opens its doors today to an equal partnership,” Sharaa said on Tuesday in a joint press conference with Macron. “A partnership that repositions Syria as a secure and vital connecting node and an indispensable civilizational and economic bridge between East and West.”
Foreign Policy (Nov. 14) relata as mais recentes medidas impositivas de Trump, o homem que acha que aumentando tarifas vai elevar o bem-estar dos consumidores americanos, e persiste em sua insana guerra tarifária. Apenas um relato das loucuras que deixam a situação pior dos dois lados em cada um desses casos de "acordos comerciais" (unilateralmente impostos aos parceiros dos EUA da forma mais burra possível):
Very Good and Productive’

Russian President Vladimir Putin speaks during a meeting of the Russian Union of Industrialists and Entrepreneurs in Moscow on March 18.Maxim Shemetov/AFP via Getty Images
Foreign Policy, March 18, 2025
A high-stakes phone call between U.S. President Donald Trump and Russian President Vladimir Putin on Tuesday produced modest progress toward reducing the fighting between Russia and Ukraine but failed to secure the full cease-fire that Trump had been seeking.
According to a Kremlin readout of the call, Putin agreed to pause strikes on Ukraine’s “energy and infrastructure” for 30 days and “immediately gave the Russian military the corresponding order.” Ukrainian authorities have repeatedly accused Moscow of “weaponizing winter” by targeting critical energy facilities in large-scale missile and drone attacks, and even after the call, the Ukrainian Air Force reported several Russian drones, ballistic missiles, and guided bombs in the air.
Washington and Moscow also agreed to immediately begin “technical negotiations on implementation of a maritime ceasefire in the Black Sea, full ceasefire and permanent peace,” according to the U.S. readout. The Kremlin’s readout added that the two parties agreed to organize hockey matches between Russian and U.S. players.
On Truth Social, Trump described the call, which lasted at least 90 minutes, as a “very good and productive one.” Yet he did not mention that Putin had rejected the full cease-fire that the United States was pushing for.
Earlier this month, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky proposed a limited air and sea truce, but the White House convincedKyiv to support a U.S.-proposed full cease-fire instead. That was what Trump was aiming to secure on Tuesday, only for Putin to ultimately agree to something closer to where Zelensky originally stood.
Even more concerning for the prospects for longer-term peace, the Kremlin laid out several terms for resolving the conflict that Ukraine and its European allies are likely to reject, including the “complete cessation of foreign military assistance and the provision of intelligence information to Kyiv.” Putin has previously argued that Ukraine cannot be allowed to rearm its military during any future cease-fire. But many of Ukraine’s European partners believe that protecting Kyiv militarily is vital not just for the country’s future but for the continent’s safety.
“European security starts in Ukraine,” British Defense Secretary John Healey said on Monday, ahead of talks with military chiefs in London later this week. More than 30 countries have already pledged to join a “coalition of the willing” that British Prime Minister Keir Starmer and French President Emmanuel Macron have spearheaded to enforce a peace deal in Ukraine, a spokesperson for Downing Street confirmed on Monday. This would include a “significant number” of countries that would provide troops on the ground alongside other logistics and background support. Russia has rejected such a proposal.
Meanwhile, Ukrainian officials outlined Kyiv’s own red lines on Tuesday, prior to the Trump-Putin phone call. “Ukraine will not discuss neutral status or a reduction in numbers of our armed forces,” Andriy Yermak, one of Zelensky’s advisors, wrote on Telegram. “We will never recognize any temporarily occupied territory as Russian.”
By Casey Michel, head of the Human Rights Foundation's Combating Kleptocracy Program and author of American Kleptocracy: How the U.S. Created the World’s Greatest Money Laundering Scheme in History.
For many, the daily news out of Ukraine paints a dour picture of Kyiv’s future. Russian troops continue to grind forward, sacrificing themselves by the tens of thousands for the sake of seizing more and more Ukrainian land. Dreams of a potential Ukrainian counteroffensive are long gone, with calls in the West for everything from Ukrainian neutrality to recognizing Russian sovereignty on stolen Ukrainian lands picking up steam.
These views aren’t without some merit. But they risk missing the forest of the daily news cycle for the trees of where we are—and just how battered and bloodied Russia truly is. On the economic front, Russia has seen both soaring interest rates and galloping inflation, providing a toxic brew of stagflation, from which there’s little likelihood of escape. On the manpower front, Russian President Vladimir Putin is so skittish of a potential new round of mobilization that he’s forced to rely on North Korean conscripts. And on the tactical front, Putin is no closer to Ukrainian collapse than he was in early 2022. He has created for himself, as scholar Michael Kimmage described, a “nightmare,” with only disastrous choices remaining, both for Putin’s rule and for Russian strategic interests writ large.
Indeed, it is the latter point that presents the greatest evidence of Putin’s disastrous turn and perhaps the greatest, or at least the most overlooked, suite of opportunities for Western policymakers. Few have made the connection, but a clear trend line has emerged over the past few years. Thanks to Putin’s monomaniacal fixation on Ukraine, he has been willing to sacrifice other geostrategic projects elsewhere, unwilling to step into the breach to help what had previously been key Russian interests. We’ve started to see a Russian variant of a domino theory emerge—one that has begun gutting Russian interests elsewhere, and illustrating, as few other things can, just how atrophied Russian power projection has become.
The first domino to fall came in 2023, when troops from Azerbaijan stormed into the separatist enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh, forcing ethnic Armenians to flee en masse. Rather than being the supposed guarantor of stability—and a key security partner of Armenia, which backed Nagorno-Karabakh for decades—Russia wilted in the face of Azerbaijan’s push. Tucking tail, Russian troops left the region entirely, scuttling a military base where nearly 2,000 Russian troops had once been deployed.
A year later, the next domino toppled. With the ousting of President Bashar al-Assad in Syria, Russia not only lost its key regional ally, but watched as its primary claim as a security guarantor for autocratic regimes disintegrated. Rather than act as a swaggering great power that could shore up illiberal leaders, Moscow was suddenly outed as a government that could do neither.
Both developments—the disappearance of Nagorno-Karabakh and the dissolution of Assad’s regime—are downstream from Putin’s overwhelming focus on subjugating Ukraine, regardless of the cost. All of which begs a pair of questions: Given that he’s been completely consumed by this messianic obsession with Ukraine, which pro-Russian domino will be the next to fall? And how can Western policymakers be ready to take full advantage?
Start with the oldest Russian-backed enclave there is: Transnistria. A sliver of eastern Moldova, Transnistria has been occupied by Russian troops since the earliest days of the post-Soviet era. If anything, the recalcitrance to find a solution to Transnistria was something of an “original sin” for Western policymakers, unwilling as they were to face the realities and reverberations of Russian imperialism, long before Putin set his sights on Ukraine. By the late 1990s, it was clear that Russian promises to remove Moscow’s troop presence from Moldova—and to finally end the Kremlin’s willingness to carve up a separate, sovereign country in the middle of Europe—were hardly credible. By and large, the West looked the other way, letting this blindingly, breathtakingly obvious example of Russian revanchism fester.
Now, though, it is Moscow’s relations with Transnistria that are suddenly in question. Earlier this year, Moscow cutting off its gas line to Europe left the entire region in, quite literally, the dark. While there has been some progress in restoring energy capacity, sudden chatter has emerged about the potential “collapse” of Transnistria wholesale and what that means for Moldova and the rest of the region more broadly. The West has been almost entirely absent from the conversations about potential solutions, let alone what this may mean strategically—a bizarre absence, given Transnistria’s border with Ukraine and the clear designs that Moscow has on eventually linking its Ukrainian gains with its Moldovan holdings.
Elsewhere, Georgia remains mired in a domestic political contretemps worse than anything the country has seen in years. After recent parliamentary elections—broadly viewed as fraudulent—the pro-Russian Georgian Dream party claimed victory, and with it, the right to thwart Tbilisi’s pro-Western direction. The stolen vote was the culmination of a longer trajectory, with the party’s leadership dismantling the underpinnings of Georgian democracy. Similar to the descent of Ukrainian democracy seen under former leader Viktor Yanukovych, whose pro-Kremlin sympathies resulted in Ukraine’s 2014 Maidan Revolution, Georgian Dream’s lurch toward authoritarianism has resulted in the kinds of protests that increasingly resemble those that toppled Yanukovych.
Meanwhile, it is in Belarus that we can find the West’s greatest blind spot—and, arguably, the greatest pressure point for testing just how weak Moscow’s reach and influence is now. In 2020, pro-democratic protests erupted across the country, presenting the greatest threat to the decades-long rule of Belarusian despot Aleksandr Lukashenko. However, in one of the greatest (and most overlooked) foreign-policy failures of U.S. President Donald Trump’s first administration, Washington did little to back the democratic protesters and instead ceded all influence to Moscow. As such, when it appeared that Lukashenko was on his last legs, Putin interceded, reinforcing the regime and restoring the rule of one of Moscow’s longtime clients. Years later, Lukashenko remains in power, and Belarus remains a key staging ground for Moscow’s ongoing assaults on Ukraine.
Now, Belarus faces yet another inflection point. On Jan. 26, another election in Belarus assured Lukashenko’s regime of another term in office—or so the dictator hopes. After all, it was the immediate aftermath of Belarus’s previous election, without even the pretense of fairness or freedom, that unexpectedly jump-started the country’s 2020 protests. While the regime has arrested tens of thousands since, that’s hardly a guarantee of post-election stability this time around. If anything, with Belarus’s opposition far more organized and far more committed than even five years ago, Lukashenko can hardly be sure that this won’t be his last thieved election—especially with his primary patron completely distracted and increasingly drained.
All these developments—Transnistria going dark, Georgia turning turbulent, and Belarus once again facing the same ingredients that sparked its largest pro-democracy protests just a few years ago—would be newsworthy on their own. But it’s the fact that the primary backer of Transnistria separatists, Georgian illiberals, and Lukashenko’s regime are suddenly watching their external influence erode that presents new opportunities for the West, if only Brussels, London, and Washington take advantage.
Indeed, it is somewhat shocking that the West hasn’t sketched out a better strategy for the broader region in recent months. The European Union has continued encouraging Moldova’s pro-EU direction, but the West remains effectively a nonactor when it comes to things like Transnistria. In Georgia, the United States recently sanctioned Bidzina Ivanishvili, the architect of the country’s democratic decline, but it’s clear that there’s little strategy beyond these kinds of individual responses. And Belarus, meanwhile, is effectively a black hole of policy analysis, even for the new administration in Washington. Reams of paper have been produced on new U.S. strategy regarding Ukraine, Russia, and Europe, but there’s been precisely nothing written on Belarus, which appears to be a complete vacuum of strategic thinking.
And that’s all a shame and an opportunity foregone. After all, it’s not just people like Assad suddenly learning that Putin’s support apparently comes with an expiration date. Transnistria separatists, Georgia’s budding autocrats, Belarus’s thug-in-chief—all of them have suddenly realized that Putin’s backing, even for them, isn’t bottomless. As they’ve seen, the Russian president will always, always prioritize Ukraine over Russian interests elsewhere, including client regimes and kleptocratic allies along Russia’s other borders.
This is, of course, a trend that has been years in the making. For over a decade, Putin has prioritized subjugating Ukraine over Moscow’s other key strategic goals, dating all the way back to the creation—and immediate implosion—of the Russia-led Eurasian Economic Union. In the years since, Putin has prioritized the gelding of Ukraine over everything from a viable economy to stable relations with the West, even to the point of risking regime stability itself. Indeed, at this point, it’s fair to say that Putin may well choose domination of Ukraine over even places like Sakha or Chechnya, both of which remain part of the Russian Federation for the time being but have clear histories as separate, sovereign states—one of the primary reasons that Russia’s territorial stability is hardly guaranteed, or why, as the Economist said, Putin is “turning Russia into a failed state.”
Questions and crises of Russia’s internal stability are still a ways off. But that is, ultimately, where this accelerating collapse of dominoes is heading. That is all the more reason the West must begin formulating policy not just on the next dominoes to fall—places like Transnistria, Georgia, and even Belarus—but also on what a post-Putin Russia may well, and should, look like. After all, once they start tumbling, dominoes have a way of continuing to fall. The West should be ready.
Casey Michel is head of the Human Rights Foundation's Combating Kleptocracy Program and author of American Kleptocracy: How the U.S. Created the World’s Greatest Money Laundering Scheme in History. X: @cjcmichel
Chantagem nuclear 2.0: não haverá guerra global: Putin blefa...
Mini-introdução PRA:
Conversações de Anatol Lieven com interlocutores russos na Rússia, resumidas por ele neste artigo para a Foreign Policy. Vale ler por inteiro, mas destaco desde já um trecho que nos concerne, ainda que o Brasil ou a sua política externa não tenham sido citados.
"On one important point, opinion was unanimous: that there is no chance whatsoever of any international formal and legal recognition of the Russian annexations of Ukrainian territory, and that Russia would not press for this. It was recognized that this would be rejected not just by Ukraine and the West, but by China, India, and South Africa, none of which recognized Russian annexation of Crimea in 2014."
O fato é que, em 2014, o Brasil NÃO se pronunciou sobre a invasão e a anexação ilegais da península da Crimeia pela Rússia. Naquele ano, Dilma Rousseff estava acolhendo uma reunião do BRICS em Fortaleza e preferiu deixar o assunto de lado. Mais tarde, numa reunião do G20 na Austrália, perguntada sobre a Crimeia disse que não iria se manifestar sobre o assunto, pois se tratava de "uma questão interna da Ucrânia" (sic três vezes). Como se a invasão de um país soberano por outro não estivesse prevista na Carta da ONU como uma violação do Direito Internacional.
Paulo Roberto de Almeida
Brasília, 29/08/2024
How the Russian Establishment Really Sees the War Ending
An inside look at what Russia expects—and doesn’t—in a cease-fire with Ukraine.
By Anatol Lieven, the director of the Eurasia program at the Quincy Institute for Responsible Statecraft.
Foreign Policy, August 27, 2024, 3:14 PM
Discussions have been happening for some time among Western policymakers, experts, and the wider public about how the war in Ukraine ought to end. I can confirm that the same type of conversations are happening in Russia.
I recently had the opportunity to speak, on the basis of confidentiality, to a wide range of members of the Russian establishment, including former diplomats, members of think tanks, academics, and businesspeople, as well as a few members of the wider public. Their ideas about the war, and the shape of its eventual ending, deserve to be better understood in the West and in Ukraine itself.
Only a small minority believed that Russia should fight for complete victory in Ukraine, including the annexation of large new areas of Ukrainian territory or the creation of a client regime in Kyiv. A large majority wanted an early cease-fire roughly along the existing battle lines. There is high confidence that the Ukrainian military will never be able to break through and reconquer significant amounts of Ukraine’s lost territories.
Most of my conversations took place before the Ukrainian invasion of the Russian province of Kursk. As far as I can make out, however, this Ukrainian success has not changed basic Russian calculations and views—not least because, at the same time, the Russian army has continued to make significant progress farther east, in the Donbas, where the Russians are closing in on the key town of Pokrovsk. “The attack on Kursk may help Ukraine eventually to get rather better terms, but nothing like a real victory,” in the words of one Russian security expert. “They will sooner or later have to withdraw from Kursk, but we will never withdraw from Crimea and the Donbas.”
The Ukrainian incursion into Kursk has undoubtedly been a serious embarrassment to the Putin administration. It comes on top of a long row of other embarrassing failures, beginning with the appallingly bad planning of the initial invasion. And among the informed Russian elites, I get very little sense of genuine respect for Russian President Vladimir Putin as a military leader—though by contrast, there is much more widespread approval of the government’s economic record in resisting Western sanctions and rebuilding Russian industry for war.
Yet a key reason for my contacts’ desires for compromise was that they believed that Russia should not, and probably could not, attempt to capture major Ukrainian cities like Kharkiv by force of arms. They pointed to the length of time, the high casualties, and the huge destruction that have been involved in taking even small cities like Bakhmut in the face of strong Ukrainian resistance. Any areas of the countryside in Kharkiv province that can be taken should therefore be regarded not as prizes but as bargaining counters in future negotiations.
Underlying this attitude is the belief that to create a Russian army large enough to attempt such a complete victory would require a massive new round of conscription and mobilization—perhaps leading to the kind of popular resistance now seen in Ukraine. The government has been careful to avoid conscripting people from Moscow and St. Petersburg, and to pay large salaries to soldiers conscripted from poorer areas. Neither of these limits could be maintained in the context of full mobilization.
Partly for the same reason, the idea of going beyond Ukraine to launch a future attack on NATO was dismissed by everyone with derision. As I was told, “Look, the whole point of all these warnings to NATO has been to stop NATO from joining the fight against us in Ukraine, because of the horrible dangers involved. Why in the name of God would we ourselves attack NATO and bring these dangers on ourselves? What could we hope to gain? That’s absurd!”
On the other hand, every single person with whom I spoke stated that there could be no withdrawal from territory held by Russia in the four Ukrainian regions that Moscow claims to have annexed. A majority suggested that any territory in other provinces like Kharkiv could be returned to Ukraine in return for them being demilitarized. This would help guarantee a cease-fire and would also allow Putin to claim that he had ensured the safety of adjacent Russian provinces, which in recent months have been subject to Ukrainian bombardment. Some more optimistic Russians thought that it might be possible to exchange territory in Kharkiv for territory in the four provinces, none of which is currently fully occupied by Russia.
I found this balance of opinion among the people with whom I spoke to be fairly plausible as a wider picture, because on the whole it corresponds closely to the views of the wider Russian public, as expressed in opinion polls conducted by organizations that in the past have been found reliable. Thus in a poll last year by the Levada Center, sponsored by the Chicago Council on Global Affairs, respondents were exactly equal (62 percent) in their desire for immediate peace talks and in their refusal to return the annexed territories to Ukraine.
Among my contacts, there were no differences on the subject of Ukrainian neutrality, which everyone declared essential. However, it would seem that serious thought is being given by sections of the Russian establishment to the vexed question of how a peace settlement could be secured without formal Western military guarantees and supplies to Ukraine. Hence the widely discussed ideas of a peace treaty ratified by the U.N. Security Council and the BRICS, and of broad demilitarized zones secured by a U.N. force.
As a leading Russian foreign-policy analyst told me, “In the West, you seem to think that only military guarantees are any good. But political factors are also critical. We have invested enormous diplomatic effort in building up our relations with the global south, which certainly would not want a new war. Do you think that if we could get a peace deal that met our basic requirements, we would throw all that away by starting one?”
Most said that if in negotiations the West agreed with key Russian demands, Russia would scale down others. Thus on the Russian demand for the “denazification” of Ukraine, a few said that Russia should still aim for a “friendly” government in Kyiv. This seems to be code for regime change, since it is very hard to imagine any freely elected Ukrainian government being friendly to Russia for a very long time to come.
A large majority, however, said that if Russian conditions in other areas were met, Russia should content itself with the passage of a law banning neo-Nazi parties and symbols, modeled on a clause of the Austrian State Treaty of 1955. My Russian interlocutors referred here to the treaty’s provisions for restrictions on certain categories of Austrian arms and for minority rights—in the case of Ukraine, the linguistic and cultural rights of the Russian-speaking population.
On one important point, opinion was unanimous: that there is no chance whatsoever of any international formal and legal recognition of the Russian annexations of Ukrainian territory, and that Russia would not press for this. It was recognized that this would be rejected not just by Ukraine and the West, but by China, India, and South Africa, none of which recognized Russian annexation of Crimea in 2014.
The hope is therefore that as part of a peace settlement, the issue of these territories’ status will be deferred for endless future negotiation (as the Ukrainian government proposed with regard to Crimea in March 2022), until eventually everyone forgets about it. The example of the (unrecognized but practically uncontested) Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus was mentioned. This means that Ukraine would not be asked publicly to “give up” these territories; only to recognize the impossibility of reconquering them by force.
In the end, of course, Russia’s negotiating position will be decided by Putin—with whom I did not speak. His public position was set out in his “peace proposal” on the eve of the West’s “peace summit” in Switzerland in June. In this, he offered an immediate cease-fire if Ukraine withdrew its forces from the remainder of the Ukrainian provinces claimed by Russia and promised not to seek admission to NATO.
On the face of it, this is ridiculous. Ukraine is never going to voluntarily abandon the cities of Kherson and Zaporizhzhia. However, Putin did not say that Russia will then occupy these territories. This leaves open the possibility that Putin would accept a deal in which these areas would be demilitarized but under Ukrainian administration and that—like the Russian-occupied parts of Kherson and Zaporizhzhia provinces—their status would be subject to future negotiation.
Nobody I spoke to in Moscow claimed to know for sure what Putin is thinking. However, the consensus was that while he made terrible mistakes at the start of the war, he is a pragmatist capable of taking military advice and recognizing military reality. Thus when in November 2022 Russian generals advised him that to attempt to hold Kherson city risked military disaster, he ordered withdrawal —even though Kherson was in territory that Russia claimed to have annexed and was also Russia’s only bridgehead west of the Dnipro River. Its loss has vastly reduced Russian hopes of being able to capture Odessa and the rest of Ukraine’s coast.
But while Putin might accept what he would regard as a compromise now, everyone with whom I spoke in Moscow said that Russian demands will be determined by what happens on the battlefield. If the Ukrainians can hold roughly their existing line, then it will be along this line that an eventual cease-fire will run. But if the Ukrainians collapse, then in the words of one Russian ex-soldier, “Peter and Catherine are still waiting”; and Peter the Great and Catherine the Great between them conquered the whole of what is now eastern and southern Ukraine for Russia.
Anatol Lieven is the director of the Eurasia program at the Quincy Institute for Responsible Statecraft. The views expressed in this article are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Quincy Institute.
A batalha da IA Open Source já começou, e quem deve ganhar é a China: Regulating Open Source ANDREW POLK Sinica, JUL 26, 2026 Xi Jinping’...