China surges like a wounded dragon remembering its body. The maps tremble. The Western myths unspool like veins split open, leaking old dogmas and used-up truths. China’s rise isn’t a story with a moral. It’s simple muscle memory, the throb of a people who never stopped being there. This is Dasein in its red-inked form: the presence of being smashed into form by famine, dynasties, tank treads, silicone chips. There is no individual Dasein when the people become the terrain. The streets of Chongqing spit heat and historical reckoning. The Chinese people are not on a timeline. They are the timeline. Martin Heidegger never dreamed of a Dasein that breathes in unison across millions of lungs, but Alexander Dugin did.

Trump has already irreversibly changed the landscape of world politics. Globalisation is over. New world is emerging. What has ended is more or less clear. What is emerging is yet to define. But already the weight and status of many actors is revised and changed.