This article was automatically translated from the original Turkish version.

Global energy demand has been rising at a pace far exceeding projections in recent years. Key drivers include massive data centers powering artificial intelligence systems and increased energy consumption due to the climate crisis. When combined with geopolitical uncertainties, fragile supply chains, and nations’ concerns over energy security, the world is once again grappling with the debate over nuclear energy.
Today, approximately 440 reactors operating in 31 countries generate about 9 percent of global electricity. Additionally, construction of 70 new reactors is underway across 15 countries. Interestingly, countries that previously announced plans to phase out nuclear power, such as Germany, are now reconsidering their positions. The most recent example of this policy shift occurred in Japan just days ago.
Japan has announced it is taking the necessary steps to restart the Kashiwazaki-Kariwa plant, the world’s largest nuclear facility, by March 2026. With a total capacity of 8.2 gigawatts and seven reactors, this massive energy production facility was one of the nuclear plants shut down following the 2011 earthquake and tsunami disaster.
On March 11, 2011, Japan’s eastern coast was struck by a massive 9.0 magnitude earthquake, followed immediately by towering tsunami waves. Due to the tsunami, the reactor buildings at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant flooded with seawater, causing cooling systems to fail and leading to core meltdowns within hours. As a result of the disaster and the resulting radiation release, 150,000 people were forced to evacuate their homes.
This event triggered a crisis of confidence in nuclear energy in Japan, leading to the shutdown of nearly all nuclear reactors in the country. Nearly all reactors were halted. Today, more than a decade after Fukushima, the weight of the disaster is still felt. High levels of radiation in soil and water, along with displaced populations unable to return home, continue to act as invisible barriers shaping Japan’s nuclear energy policies.
The most intense debates surrounding Japan’s decision to return to nuclear energy center on the restart of the Kashiwazaki-Kariwa plant, located in Niigata Prefecture. Recent surveys show public opinion in the region is nearly evenly split. 50 percent of residents support restarting the plant, while 47 percent oppose it.
The regional assembly’s vote on December 22 will mark the moment this tension moves onto an official plane. Whatever the outcome, this polarized debate underscores just how layered Japan’s energy transition truly is. Yet to fully understand Japan’s position, one must also consider the global role of nuclear energy and broader international trends.
Nuclear energy remains central to the energy security strategies of many nations. For example, France, often the first country associated with nuclear power, currently generates about 70 percent of its electricity from nuclear sources and continues to view it as a pillar of national strategic power. Countries such as Ukraine, Slovakia, and Hungary also derive approximately half of their total electricity from nuclear energy.
Advanced economies host about 70 percent of the world’s active reactors, but developing economies are also increasing investments in nuclear energy due to rising energy demand. Moreover, nuclear energy has become a symbolic pathway for emerging economies to approach the status of major global players. As a result, the share of nuclear investment from emerging economies continues to grow.
Meanwhile, countries that previously moved away from nuclear energy toward alternative sources are now reevaluating their decisions. In recent months, Denmark has reopened debate on its four-decade nuclear ban, and Taiwan has taken steps to restart two of its reactors, illustrating how rapidly global nuclear energy strategy is shifting.
In short, nuclear energy has moved beyond being merely a matter of watts and become a key element in states’ security architectures. Japan’s steps toward nuclear energy reflect the broader global trend currently underway. Geopolitical disruptions in supply chains and Europe’s acute energy vulnerability have repositioned nuclear power back onto the global energy agenda.
Last week, the people of Honduras went to the polls to elect a new president. Yet the significance of this election extends far beyond who will lead this modest Central American nation. What defined the electoral process was not the candidates’ promises but the intervention of U.S. President Trump. Although final results are not yet confirmed, the prominent figures in the campaign reveal the dynamics shaping Latin America’s political landscape today.
Before ballots were even cast, U.S. President Donald Trump publicly endorsed conservative candidate Nasry Asfura and accused his rival Salvador Nasralla of being on the “border of communism.” This rhetoric cannot be dismissed as mere campaign hyperbole. Trump’s language revives the sharp ideological framework inherited from the Cold War in U.S. policy toward Latin America.
Immediately following Trump’s endorsement of Asfura came another, more forceful message: a clear demonstration of power. Trump warned that if his preferred candidate were not elected, the United States would cut off financial aid to Honduras. This threat directly contradicts the narrative of “democracy” that the United States has long promoted in the region since the Cold War.
While the principle of free will in elections is emphasized, this financial pressure on Honduras’s electoral outcome reveals the true priorities of U.S. foreign policy. Another striking example of foreign policy priorities overriding democratic rhetoric is the pardon granted by Trump to former Honduran President Juan Orlando Hernandez, currently imprisoned in the United States.
Hernandez, sentenced to 45 years in prison for drug trafficking, was pardoned—a move that simultaneously energized Asfura’s voters and once again demonstrated how the U.S. legal system can be leveraged as a political tool in Latin America’s political calculus. In the United States, where trust in institutions has plummeted to historic lows, this pardon has reignited debates over political ethics.
Viewing Trump’s interference in Honduras as merely an attempt to influence the outcome between two candidates ignores the deeper story. Beneath the surface, under Trump’s informal leadership, a new political bloc is forming—one based not on institutions but on personal alliances, stretching from Venezuela’s Maduro to El Salvador’s Nayib Bukele and Argentina’s Javier Milei, all united against U.S.-opposed leaders.
Honduras is a critical juncture in this dynamic. Though not prominent in economic size or regional weight, its political direction serves as a barometer for the speed and scope of the new political winds sweeping across Latin America. A potential victory for Nasry Asfura would add another link to this political chain led by Trump. Thus, the Honduras election carries significance beyond a simple national choice.
Latin American history is no stranger to the influence of foreign-backed alliances and ideological polarization on domestic politics. Yet today, Honduran voters may be undergoing a decisive process that will determine the region’s political trajectory in the coming period. Yet as ballots opened in Honduras, the emerging picture also pointed to deep uncertainty.
The Honduran Electoral Council announced that as of Thursday evening, 87 percent of votes had been counted, but that the remaining 17 percent contained “inconsistencies.” This information cast a new shadow over an already tense process. Such language points to a structural trust problem in Honduras’s electoral history, one that has been repeatedly observed in other Latin American countries.
As the count progressed, it became clear that Honduras’s fate hinges on just tens of thousands of votes. The president is elected by a simple plurality in a single round, meaning no majority of 50 percent plus one is required. Thus, who leads by even a few thousand votes becomes critically significant. With 87 percent of votes counted, the delay in tallying the inconsistent ballots only deepens the doubts.
According to official figures, Trump’s endorsed candidate Nasry Asfura received 40.19 percent of votes, while the Liberal Party’s candidate Salvador Nasralla received 39.49 percent. The difference between them is approximately 20,000 votes. Considering Honduras’s population of around 10 million, this margin is extremely narrow. Although the difference is small, its political significance for the region’s future is immense.
What makes the situation truly fragile is not only the slim margin but also the fact that the 17 percent of ballots deemed inconsistent remain under review. Each new update rekindles deeper suspicions about the fairness of the electoral process. This once again highlights how delicately Honduras’s democracy is balanced. At this moment, Honduras hangs in the political balance of the region, suspended by a vote difference as thin as a thread.
Last week, the International Campaign to Ban Landmines released the Landmine Monitor 2025 report. According to the report, over 6,000 landmine incidents were recorded last year, resulting in 1,945 deaths. This marks the highest level of landmine casualties since 2020. Even more alarming is that nearly 90 percent of victims were civilians.
The fact that non-combatants remain at the center of risk long after wars end challenges international law’s principles of civilian protection. In Afghanistan, for example, children account for 77 percent of landmine victims. Everyday activities such as playing in fields or walking to school continue to carry lethal risks.
One of the countries where the impact of landmines is most acutely felt is Syria. After the fall of Bashar al-Assad, many families returned to their homes after years of displacement. Yet landmines buried beneath ruined buildings and devastated farmland continue to claim lives, even a year after the war ended. This reality demonstrates that many challenges remain unresolved in Syria’s post-war normalization process.
Myanmar, however, represents a different dynamic and contributes the darkest pages to the report. The country recorded over 2,000 landmine incidents last year, making it the global leader in this category. In a nation engulfed in internal conflict, both government forces and armed groups extensively use landmines due to their low cost and ease of deployment.
The 1999 Ottawa Treaty is recognized as the most comprehensive international ban on anti-personnel landmines. Yet, as the data show, it has not yet been fully effective in preventing landmine casualties. The treaty prohibits states from using, stockpiling, producing, or transferring landmines and imposes obligations for mine clearance.
Princess Diana’s campaigns in heavily mined areas such as Angola and Bosnia-Herzegovina, combined with the disarmament atmosphere following the end of the Cold War, led to the creation of the Ottawa Treaty. Today, 166 countries are parties to the treaty. In other words, 85 percent of the world’s population lives under a normative framework that promises a mine-free future.
Moreover, more than half of the treaty’s signatory states successfully reduced landmine contamination within the past year. To date, 31 countries have fully cleared their landmines, with Oman becoming the most recent addition to this list last year. Additionally, this year the Marshall Islands and Tonga announced their accession to the treaty. Yet the setbacks during this period cannot be ignored.
For instance, the total area cleared of landmines last year decreased compared to the previous year. The primary reason is the suspension of funding from the United States, one of the largest financiers of mine clearance programs, following Trump’s return to office. Even more concerning are the severe humanitarian consequences caused by major powers’ refusal to join the treaty.
Russia is estimated to have laid up to ten million landmines during its large-scale invasion of Ukraine. Additionally, countries such as the United States, China, India, Pakistan, Iran, Israel, Egypt, North Korea, and South Korea remain non-signatories. The fact that many of these countries are active conflict zones weakens the global applicability of the landmine ban.
The stockpiles held by non-signatory countries also represent a serious warning regarding the future potential use of landmines. Russia leads the world with an estimated 26.5 million anti-personnel mines. China, Pakistan, and India are estimated to possess between 4 and 6 million each. The United States, which claims to have halted production despite not signing the treaty, maintains a stockpile of 3 million.
Europe, which has been the strongest proponent of the global ban on landmines, is now beginning to drift away from this regime—creating the most serious fracture in the treaty’s future. First, Ukraine announced its withdrawal from the treaty to slow Russia’s advance. Following Ukraine, Estonia, Finland, Latvia, Lithuania, and Poland have also entered the process of withdrawing from the treaty due to the Russian threat. This withdrawal signals a broader reality: in countries feeling threatened by Russia, security concerns naturally override international norms.
Even among nations that see themselves as part of European society, geopolitical imperatives are replacing international law as the decisive factor. This shift offers troubling projections for the coming period.
Although never signed by major powers, the Ottawa Treaty established a global consensus against one of war’s most indiscriminate weapons. Yet today, both data from active conflict zones and the withdrawal decisions of European countries indicate that this norm is undergoing erosion.
The World’s Largest Nuclear Power Plant Has Reopened
Trump’s Interference in Honduras Elections
Moving Away from a Mine-Free World