The geopolitical landscape has shifted dramatically over the past two years, marked by a growing convergence among the world’s most prominent anti-Western powers. On July 17, an Iranian missile struck the Muwaffaq Salti Air Base in Jordan, killing three American soldiers and wounding four others in an attack characterized by its unusual precision. In the weeks that followed, U.S. intelligence and defense officials uncovered that Tehran had received high-resolution satellite imagery of the base prior to the strike, significantly aiding its targeting capabilities. Following the attack, Iran acquired additional imagery, which likely allowed the regime to assess the damage and calibrate future military operations. Crucially, these vital images originated from Chinese entities.
China is far from alone in quietly assisting Iran’s military apparatus. Russia has similarly played a critical role in helping Tehran identify and strike American and allied positions across the Middle East. Just two days before a March 27 attack on the Prince Sultan Air Base in Saudi Arabia—which left 12 American personnel wounded—14 Russian spy satellites passed directly overhead. U.S. officials subsequently concluded that Moscow supplied Iran with the vital satellite intelligence necessary to execute precision strikes. Beyond intelligence sharing, Moscow has provided Tehran with advanced weaponry and military expertise. This includes upgraded versions of Iranian-designed drones that have been heavily refined and tested on the battlefields of Ukraine. Furthermore, Russian engineers are actively assisting Iran in developing supersonic cruise missiles capable of evading sophisticated U.S. and Israeli air defenses.
Neither Russia nor China has directly entered into Iran’s active military conflict with the United States. Indeed, they have found that they do not need to. By supplying tactical intelligence on American targets, advanced military technology and critical components, and unwavering economic and diplomatic backing, these powers can provide Tehran with precisely what it needs to sustain its campaigns without formally joining the war.
When the United States entered these interconnected conflicts, it did so with foundational advantages that its adversaries initially lacked: a vast network of formal international allies, established military bases, robust intelligence-sharing arrangements, defense partnerships, and highly interoperable forces spanning Europe, the Middle East, and Asia. Yet, as the conflicts have worn on, many of Washington’s traditional partners have shown deep reluctance to closely associate themselves with these campaigns. Some have temporarily or permanently denied the United States specific forms of military access, while others have publicly resisted American calls to help secure vital maritime chokepoints like the Strait of Hormuz.
This dynamic illustrates a striking transformation since observers first identified Russia, China, Iran, and North Korea as an "axis of upheaval." While Washington’s adversaries began this era of conflict with a comparatively weaker and more isolated network, the United States boasted the far stronger one. However, after years of mutual assistance in sustaining Russia’s war in Ukraine, members of this axis have successfully adapted their network to function seamlessly in entirely new theaters. They are fine-tuning their cooperation to make their respective partners more resilient—and consequently far more dangerous to the United States—while successfully managing and limiting their own individual costs and risks. Washington, conversely, risks creating friction within its own traditional partnerships rather than deepening them, threatening to squander its structural network advantages precisely as its adversaries learn to maximize theirs.
Sources of Upheaval
Much has fundamentally changed in international relations over recent years. Most notably, the United States itself has transformed into a distinct source of unpredictability and upheaval within the global system. The Trump administration has frequently challenged established international institutions, placed severe strains on traditional alliances, and embraced a decidedly transactional approach to foreign policy. By upending long-standing trade agreements, threatening the sovereignty of traditional allies such as Canada and Denmark, and favoring diplomatic unpredictability, the administration has reshaped the diplomatic terrain. At the same time, it has pursued improved relations with China, North Korea, and Russia while simultaneously attempting to isolate and weaken Iran. Yet, none of these diplomatic maneuvers have loosened the strategic ties binding America’s primary adversaries together.
Early in the administration’s tenure, U.S. officials expressed cautious optimism that normalizing diplomatic relations with Moscow might drive a wedge between Russia and the broader axis. However, President Donald Trump’s frequently expressed warmth toward the Kremlin has failed to open any meaningful diplomatic gaps with the other members. From Moscow’s perspective, the administration has proven incapable of delivering a durable peace deal on Ukraine. Furthermore, any rapprochement driven by the current executive branch is viewed in Moscow as ephemeral, given that the U.S. Congress maintains intense pressure on Russia and a future administration could easily revert to a far more hostile posture.
More fundamentally, attempts by Washington to peel members away from the axis misunderstand the core grievances that hold the coalition together. While its members uniformly object to an international order that they view as enshrining Western dominance at their direct expense, their primary objection is more pointed: they fiercely oppose the extraordinary, unilateral power of the United States to constrain, isolate, punish, and potentially threaten their ruling regimes. Recent high-profile U.S. actions have only served to rekindle these deep-seated concerns. The capture of Venezuelan leader Nicolás Maduro and the targeted killing of Iranian Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei have reinforced long-standing fears in Beijing, Moscow, Pyongyang, and Tehran regarding American interventionism and regime security.
While axis nations may periodically moderate their anti-American rhetoric when tactical circumstances require it, their foundational motivation to reduce their vulnerability to American power remains entirely intact. The Trump administration’s underlying skepticism toward the traditional liberal international order will do little to ease anxieties in axis capitals. On the contrary, efforts to foster a more transactional and coercive global environment are likely to increase the practical value of their partnerships. As international rules and institutional constraints recede and brute power dictates outcomes, nations will increasingly seek reliable partners capable of helping them blunt economic sanctions, access critical technologies, compensate for military vulnerabilities, expand their geopolitical room for maneuver, and resist international isolation. Axis cooperation is continually evolving to meet these exact demands.
New Regions, New Problems
When Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, cooperation among the four adversarial nations was relatively straightforward to map and categorize. Iran provided Russia with explosive drones, while North Korea supplied millions of rounds of ammunition, ballistic missiles, and eventually troops. China stepped in as Moscow’s most critical economic lifeline, purchasing sanctioned Russian oil while supplying the vital machine tools, microelectronics, and industrial components required first to sustain and subsequently to expand Russian military manufacturing. Russia, in turn, transferred increasingly sophisticated military technology back to its partners.
While these early exchanges were undeniably consequential, they could largely be understood as a series of isolated bilateral transactions focused narrowly on Russia’s war in Ukraine. That is increasingly no longer the case. Today, axis cooperation has become deeply networked and strategically geared toward solving complex operational problems across multiple new geographic regions.
The evolution of Russia’s drone program clearly illustrates this structural change. Iran initially sold its Shahed loitering munitions to Moscow and subsequently helped Russian defense industries establish domestic production lines. However, Russia did not simply replicate the technology it received. Instead, it incorporated advanced Chinese microelectronics and continually modified the drones’ navigation systems, communication links, payloads, propulsion mechanisms, and operational tactics in direct response to Ukrainian air defenses. Newly established military units fed successful battlefield modifications directly back into domestic manufacturing facilities, generating an unusually rapid cycle of tactical adaptation. The creation of Russia’s Unmanned Systems Forces—a specialized drone and robotics branch of the armed forces—institutionalized this rapid innovation cycle. This powerful combination of domestic adaptation and axis partnership has proved remarkably effective; Russia’s latest jet-powered Geran drones are significantly faster, carry larger payloads, and are much harder for Ukrainian forces to intercept than earlier iterations.
Crucially, these hard-won Russian technological improvements do not remain confined within Russia’s borders. They circulate freely throughout the broader axis network. For Iran, the military technology that originally flowed northward to Russia is now returning southward, accompanied by invaluable tactical advice drawn directly from Russia’s brutal experience on the Ukrainian front lines. Should these advanced jet-powered drones begin appearing in the Middle East—a development military analysts view as highly probable—future Iranian attacks on U.S. forces and regional energy infrastructure will become significantly harder and costlier for defenders to intercept.
North Korea and China are also reaping substantial benefits from this collaborative network. According to recent Ukrainian intelligence reports, Russia struck a bilateral deal to help Pyongyang expand its own production of Shahed-type loitering munitions. North Korean engineers have gained critical technical knowledge through hands-on work at Russia’s massive Yelabuga drone manufacturing complex, while North Korean troops deployed alongside Russian forces have acquired firsthand combat experience in modern, drone-integrated warfare. Similarly, Chinese military personnel have received specialized training in contemporary drone warfare from Russian forces, while commercial Chinese suppliers gather vital data on how their dual-use technologies perform under intense combat conditions. Beijing is thus deriving strategic insights from an evolution in drone warfare that initially began with Iranian technology and was subsequently refined on the battlefields of Ukraine.
The Model Can Travel
Two years ago, it remained an open question whether the pragmatic partnerships binding the four members of the axis could outlast the specific war that accelerated their formation. Analysts questioned whether the relationships would lose momentum if the conflict in Ukraine eventually subsided and Moscow no longer experienced an acute need for Iranian drones, North Korean ammunition, or Chinese economic and technological backing.
Yet, the protracted war has done more than just create an immediate, desperate need for cooperation; it has provided a definitive proof of concept for what these collaborative partnerships can accomplish collectively, far exceeding what any single nation could achieve on its own. Ukrainian defensive capabilities, sweeping Western sanctions, U.S. military supplies, and intense diplomatic isolation have all proven less effective than they would be if Russia were forced to operate in complete isolation. By actively helping one another withstand external pressure, axis countries collectively complicate the ability of the United States and its allies to compel them to alter their strategic trajectories.
Iran is now actively demonstrating that this collaborative model is highly exportable. Russia’s support for Tehran has been operationally significant while remaining carefully bounded. Even while fighting an existential war in Ukraine, Moscow has successfully devised ways to help Iran strike American targets and sustain its military campaigns through diplomatic cover and material assistance, all while carefully stopping short of actions that could drag Russia into a direct military conflict with the United States. China has exercised even greater caution, but its steady willingness to share dual-use electronics and purchase discounted Iranian oil has similarly enhanced Tehran’s capacity to withstand severe U.S. pressure.
Such calculated restraint is not evidence of a weakening axis; rather, it is a defining operational feature of how these partnerships function. With the notable exception of North Korean soldiers deployed directly to fight on Russia’s behalf, the axis nations have largely avoided fighting one another’s direct wars. Instead, they provide targeted political backing, crucial economic relief, intelligence sharing, advanced technology, and limited military assistance whenever doing so advances their own national interests at a manageable level of risk.
The concurrent conflicts in Ukraine and the Middle East have taught the axis another valuable strategic lesson: supporting a fellow member does not merely strengthen the direct recipient. A major conflict in one regional theater can actively create advantageous strategic opportunities for partners elsewhere. For instance, Iran’s disruption of maritime traffic in the Strait of Hormuz caused global oil prices to surge, delivering a substantial financial windfall to energy exporter Russia while prompting Washington to temporarily ease certain restrictions on Russian oil shipments. Consequently, Iran’s regional war generated critical economic resources that Moscow could subsequently use to sustain its own military efforts.
Before engaging directly with Iran, the United States was forced to redeploy key military assets, including vital air and missile defense systems, away from the Indo-Pacific and into the Middle East. As the fighting dragged on, U.S. forces committed two carrier strike groups to the region, temporarily leaving the Indo-Pacific entirely devoid of a U.S. aircraft carrier presence. China enjoys immediate operational freedom as a result of a temporarily thinned U.S. military posture in the western Pacific, while facing reduced vulnerability as global U.S. munitions stockpiles are depleted. If Washington settles into a prolonged, open-ended strategy of containing Iran—reminiscent of its containment policy toward Iraq during the 1990s—Beijing could reap the strategic advantages of those military diversions for years to come.
Do No Further Harm
The ongoing experience of the axis of upheaval demonstrates a fundamental truth of modern statecraft: the sheer size and traditional strength of a geopolitical network matter very little if its individual members cannot effectively translate their capabilities into collective, coordinated power. The United States and its traditional allies start from a position of considerable structural advantage, possessing vastly superior economic and technological resources, more capable conventional militaries, and a far larger institutional network of allies and partners. The central question moving forward is simply which network will make more intelligent and disciplined use of its available assets.
That challenge begins at the top with strategic leadership. For decades, the United States championed an international order explicitly designed to forbid wars of conquest, protect the freedom of the seas, maintain a generally open global economic system, and allow populations to exercise fundamental democratic rights. Washington coupled this visionary framework with an implicit bargain: any nation willing to join and respect the order could do so, and upholding those basic principles conferred tangible benefits, including trade relations, diplomatic preferences, and reliable military alliances.
For countries that explicitly rejected this open international order—as the axis nations do today—the tangible benefits were far fewer and the penalties substantial. The United States routinely sanctioned, pressured, and occasionally waged war against rogue states, while actively resisting the establishment of competing geopolitical orders such as the communist blocs of the Cold War. U.S. foreign policy historically proceeded from the uncontroversial premise that Washington should actively befriend like-minded nations and treat them substantially better than rejectionist regimes.
By contrast, current policies have at times demonstrated inclinations that run counter to this legacy. Recent diplomatic statements from administration officials indicate a willingness to contemplate arms sales to competitors while stalling vital defense provisions to democratic partners. The executive branch has frequently displayed greater personal interest in foreign autocrats than in the democratically elected leaders of core allies. Furthermore, Washington has intermittently pressured nations fighting for their survival against foreign aggression, while leveling direct threats against long-standing regional partners. Such erratic diplomatic moves simultaneously strengthen the hand of axis countries while undermining the internal cohesion of the very network best positioned to confront them.
Doing no further harm would mark a constructive initial step in effectively managing the challenge posed by the axis. Beyond that baseline, Washington must actively help its partners grow stronger. Just as axis nations are actively assisting one another in bypassing sanctions, preserving access to critical technologies, and stabilizing their economies under severe external pressure, the United States should proactively aid its own network. This requires strengthening supply chains that run exclusively through trusted partners, sharing advanced technology responsibly, and encouraging allies to assume greater regional security burdens.
Washington must take careful care, however, not to transfer defense responsibilities faster than allied nations can realistically develop the sovereign capabilities required to assume them—and to avoid doing so in ways that erode mutual trust, operational interoperability, and strategic coordination. Without this care, the United States and its partners could find themselves individually more capable on paper but collectively far less effective in practice.
The United States should also actively reverse policies that directly undercut its own network. Sweeping tariffs and other protectionist measures routinely harm allied economies and damage their domestic industrial bases. Expressing a desire to acquire allied territory or attempting to undermine democratically elected political leaders does not foster a capable international security network. Instead, Washington must project clear strategic vision and steadfast leadership to its friends, avoiding jarring uncertainty and coercive transactionalism.
Even if the United States successfully changes course, American and allied policymakers must prepare themselves for a long and difficult strategic struggle. As the unsuccessful regime-change efforts in Iran have clearly demonstrated, there are no simple shortcuts to besting the axis countries, whether acting together or individually. This ongoing contest of rival networks will remain nearly global in scope, waged across multiple domains, with immense national security stakes riding on the ultimate outcome. The United States and its democratic allies retain the inherent capacity to prevail; they must now consistently demonstrate the requisite will.
