The Argentine government's decision to formally initiate the process of joining the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP) is much more than a statement of trade policy. On June 2, 2026, during his address to the 43rd Congress of the Argentine Institute of Finance Executives (IAEF), Foreign Minister Pablo Quirno announced that Argentina would submit its application to join the bloc the following day in Paris, stating that the country should project itself outward through “strategic alliances with like-minded countries” and maintaining that “Argentina’s market is the world,” not just its domestic market. On June 3, at the Ministerial Meeting of the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), Quirno formally presented New Zealand’s Minister of Trade and Investment, Todd McClay , with the note of intent to join the CPTPP, which he described as “one of the broadest, most modern, and most dynamic trade agreements in the world.” He also highlighted that the bloc brings together twelve economies that represent approximately 13% of the world's gross product and about 15% of global trade in goods, stating that its rules on market access, investment, services and trade constitute some of the "most advanced and competitive" standards currently in force.

However, the CPTPP is not simply an agreement aimed at reducing tariffs or facilitating trade. It is a complex regulatory framework that governs investment, digital trade, intellectual property, state-owned enterprises, financial services, government procurement, the environment, labor standards, and dispute resolution mechanisms, forming a veritable legal architecture of transnational economic governance. Argentina's accession should therefore be interpreted as part of a broader strategy of international integration pursued by the Javier Milei administration, which includes closer ties with the OECD, the promotion of free trade agreements, and the pursuit of deeper integration into global value chains. In this sense, the decision expresses a particular conception of the role Argentina should play in the contemporary reconfiguration of the world order: not as an articulator of autonomous regional spaces, but as a participant in global economic regimes whose fundamental rules were designed by the major trading powers of the international system. As Susan Strange (1996) warned, in the contemporary global economy power is not exercised solely through military coercion or diplomatic pressure, but also through the ability to establish the rules, norms and institutions within which other actors must operate.

The history of the CPTPP clearly illustrates this logic. Although it formally originated from the P4 Agreement signed in 2005 by relatively small Pacific economies, its transformation into a geopolitical instrument of global reach began when the United States decided to make it one of the pillars of its Asia-Pacific strategy. Even after the US withdrawal in 2017, the legal framework built during the negotiations remained virtually intact. Japan then assumed political leadership of the process and consolidated a space that today brings together some of the most dynamic economies on the planet. However, the apparent institutional horizontality of the CPTPP masks a more complex reality: the rules are formally the same for everyone, but the capacity to influence their interpretation, modification, and application remains concentrated in those states with greater economic, technological, and financial resources, as well as greater international projection capacity. As Cox (1981) warned, international orders are rarely neutral; On the contrary, they reflect existing power relations and contribute to reproducing them through institutions that present as universal interests that, to a large extent, respond to the dominant actors of the system.

From an Ibero-American perspective, this phenomenon can be understood through categories that allow us to transcend the legal fiction of formal sovereign equality among states. Juan Carlos Puig (1980) warned that the international system is structured on profound asymmetries between dominant and dependent states, a circumstance that conditions the real margins of autonomy of peripheral countries even when they formally retain their sovereignty. Along similar lines, Marcelo Gullo (2012) distinguishes between states that are subjects and states that are objects of the international order: while the former have the capacity to formulate rules, guide integration processes, and project their strategic interests onto the global system, the latter tend to be inserted into institutional frameworks designed by other centers of power, limiting themselves to managing the degrees of adaptation possible. These categories are particularly useful for analyzing the CPTPP, as they allow us to observe that behind the agreement's apparent legal horizontality lies a profoundly unequal distribution of political, economic, technological, and regulatory capacities among its members.

In addition, Samuel Pinheiro Guimarães argues that the international arena is organized around “hegemonic power structures,” understood as complex networks of states, international organizations, legal norms, economic interests, and ideological mechanisms whose primary purpose is to preserve and expand the position of the actors at their center. According to the Brazilian diplomat, these structures produce norms, institutions, and legitimizing mechanisms that present particular interests as if they were universal interests, thus guaranteeing the reproduction of existing hierarchies (Pinheiro Guimarães, 1998). From this perspective, the CPTPP can be interpreted not only as a new-generation trade agreement but also as a contemporary manifestation of a global lex mercatoria that, through regulations on investment, intellectual property, digital commerce, services, state-owned enterprises, and dispute resolution, seeks to standardize national regulatory frameworks according to the operational needs of the global economy. This leads to a fundamental question for Argentina : does it integrate into an economic community of relatively equal actors, or does it seek to join a space whose rules have been designed, promoted, and interpreted by significantly more powerful states? The answer can hardly be found in slogans about trade liberalization, competitiveness, or international integration, but rather in the specific position the country will occupy within the power structure that underpins the agreement.

The states that currently wield the most influence within the CPTPP—Japan, the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia, and Singapore—are not merely seeking to expand markets, but rather to ensure regulatory stability, reliable access to strategic resources, and predictability for their investments within global value chains. In this context, Argentina appears primarily as a supplier of food, energy, lithium, copper, hydrocarbons, and specialized knowledge; that is, as a resource-rich territory whose international integration is functional to production strategies defined in other decision-making centers. The central issue, therefore, lies not exclusively in the potential trade benefits, but in determining whether accession strengthens the country's capacity to act as an entity with increasing autonomy or whether it deepens its peripheral integration within an international regulatory framework whose fundamental rules continue to be defined by those who concentrate economic, financial, and technological power. As Prebisch (1986) warned, the historical problem of peripheral economies is not simply trading with core countries, but doing so from structurally asymmetrical positions that tend to reproduce conditions of dependency and subordinate specialization.

The issue takes on an additional dimension when considering the context of transition the international system is undergoing. More than a simple commercial rivalry, the contemporary scenario reflects a dispute between opposing world order projects: while Western powers seek to preserve the institutional, financial, and regulatory mechanisms that have sustained their dominance over the past decades, China and Russia are promoting alternative spaces for economic and strategic integration, evident in the expansion of the BRICS, attempts at monetary diversification, and the construction of new infrastructure, financing, and trade networks. However, the alternative proposed by the BRICS does not necessarily imply overcoming relations of dependency; rather, it may give rise to new forms of structural subordination articulated around other centers of power. In this context, the CPTPP can be interpreted as a manifestation of the Western strategy to consolidate economic spheres governed by its own regulatory standards, while the BRICS represent an attempt to construct an alternative sphere of influence under the leadership of the major emerging powers. For peripheral countries like Argentina, the challenge is not simply choosing between one bloc or another, but rather preventing international integration from being reduced to a choice between different forms of dependency. As Arrighi (2007) points out, periods of hegemonic transition intensify disputes between major powers over resources, markets, and spheres of influence, forcing middle-income countries to navigate between opposing pressures without relinquishing their margins of strategic autonomy.

Within this context, the United Kingdom's presence in the CPTPP presents Argentina with a problem that cannot be reduced to the convenient technocratic language of "market access." London formally joined the treaty on December 15, 2024, as the first European member of the bloc and as part of a post-Brexit strategy aimed at rebuilding its commercial, regulatory, and geopolitical influence outside the European Union. This is a significant point: the United Kingdom is not joining the CPTPP as just another partner, but as a power with a historical vocation for imperial administration, now recycled under the polished framework of rules of origin, trade facilitation, and legal certainty for investments. For Argentina, this member is not a commercially neutral state: it is the power that illegally occupies the Malvina Islands, South Georgia, the South Sandwich Islands, and the corresponding maritime areas, a matter that the Argentine Foreign Ministry itself defines as a sovereignty dispute originating on January 3, 1833, when the United Kingdom “illegally occupied the islands and expelled the Argentine authorities.” Therefore, even if Argentina's eventual accession to the CPTPP does not legally imply recognizing British sovereignty over the usurped territories, it would produce a delicate diplomatic effect: it would normalize an economic cooperation framework in which the colonial occupier acts as a full partner, institutional evaluator, and actor with the capacity to influence Argentina's accession process.

The problem is compounded because the CPTPP doesn't function like a trade fair where everyone sets up a stall and sells whatever they can; it's a regulatory framework with demanding accession procedures. The aspiring country must formally notify New Zealand, the treaty's depositary, and then the CPTPP Commission decides whether to initiate the accession process; the agreement's own website indicates that the Commission must decide whether or not to begin this procedure. In other words, the United Kingdom is institutionally positioned on the side of those who observe, evaluate, and potentially condition Argentina's entry. Herein lies the paradox, almost obscene in diplomatic terms: the Argentine Republic, whose Constitution and foreign policy affirm that the recovery of the Malvina Islands is a permanent and non-negotiable objective, could find itself requesting admission to a club where the occupying power has a political voice within the accession mechanism. The Argentine Foreign Ministry maintains that the nation reaffirms its “legitimate and imprescriptible sovereignty” over the Malvina Islands, South Georgia, the South Sandwich Islands, and their corresponding maritime areas, and that their recovery constitutes a “permanent and inalienable objective of the Argentine people.” This principle does not preclude trade, but it does require that international engagement not be confused with diplomatic subservience.

The alternative path does not lie in retreating into rhetorical nationalism, but rather in addressing the Malvinas issue from within the broader South American community, with a regional, institutional, cultural, legal, port, scientific, and defensive policy that transforms the Argentine cause into a genuine matter of the South Atlantic. In this context, Mercosur is neither a bureaucratic ornament nor a protectionist relic: it is an indispensable platform to prevent the British policy of colonial normalization from advancing on the regional flanks. London does not operate solely from Mount Pleasant, which the United Kingdom has transformed into a permanent military base with air, logistical, maritime, and Antarctic projection capabilities; it also deploys low-intensity diplomacy toward Brazil, Chile, and Uruguay through cooperation agreements, defense, technology, trade, academic ties, cultural narratives, and naval or logistical offers that tend to surround Argentina with a network of “reasonable” South American interlocutors in the face of the colonial enclave.

The strategy is old-fashioned in its logic and modern in its methods: it doesn't need to outright deny Argentina's claim if it can get its neighbors to accept the British presence as a functional fact of the South Atlantic. At this point, Argentina's inaction is costly. While the United Kingdom consolidates military infrastructure in the Malvinas, promotes fishing, plans the hydrocarbon development of the Sea Lion field, and maintains a strategic presence on the Antarctic route, Argentina too often oscillates between ritualistic protest and institutional discontinuity. Mercosur, however, has already produced relevant precedents: its member and associate states have supported Argentina's claim and recognized the country's right to take action against unauthorized exploration and exploitation of natural resources in the disputed area. That political capital must cease to be a summit photo op and become permanent policy: Malvinas clauses in bilateral agreements, regional parliamentary coordination, effective prohibition of logistical assistance to ships linked to the occupation, Atlantic-Antarctic scientific cooperation, joint educational production, South American university observatories, cultural diplomacy, coordinated fisheries control, and a regional doctrine that identifies the British enclave for what it is: a colonial anomaly embedded in the South American geopolitical space.

Ultimately, the debate surrounding the CPTPP should not be reduced to a technical discussion about tariffs, exports, or investments, because its most sensitive implication is political: Argentina could enter a high-trust trade regime where the United Kingdom, the occupying power in the Malvina Islands, acts as an institutional partner, evaluator, and party with the capacity to influence the accession procedures. The problem is not trading with the world, but doing so without a national doctrine, without explicit reservations regarding the Malvinas, and without a prior South American strategy to compensate for the asymmetry.

The situation is exacerbated when, at the same time, Argentine foreign policy shows signs of strategic permeability: maritime patrol and cooperation agreements with the United States in the South Atlantic, authorized foreign oceanographic campaigns in waters under national jurisdiction, and a growing acceptance of the language of “global commons” applied to the Argentine Sea—a formula that sounds appealing in international governance manuals but is dangerous for a country whose continental shelf, resources, and Antarctic projection are under colonial dispute. The question, then, is not CPTPP yes or no in the abstract, but rather under what sovereignty framework the discussion takes place: with interpretative clauses that exclude any infringement on Argentina's claim; with explicit safeguards regarding the Malvina Islands, South Georgia, the South Sandwich Islands, and maritime spaces; with an active regional policy toward Brazil, Chile, and Uruguay; and with a diplomacy that stops asking permission at other countries' tables while the colonial occupier sets the table. Strong states build institutions, establish rules, and transform their interests into international standards. Weak states, when they abandon their own strategy, barely learn to obey it with administrative enthusiasm. Without Mercosur, without the South Atlantic, without an Antarctic policy, and without the Malvinas as a central organizing principle, openness ceases to be intelligent integration and becomes an elegant form of subordination.

Sources

Arrighi, G. (2007). Adam Smith in Beijing: Origins and Foundations of the 21st Century . Akal.

Cox, R. W. (1981). Social forces, states and world orders: Beyond international relations theory. Millennium: Journal of International Studies, 10(2), 126-155.

Gullo, M. (2012). The founding insubordination. A brief history of the construction of the power of nations . Biblos.

Pinheiro Guimarães, S. (2007). Five hundred years of periphery: A contribution to the study of international politics (5th ed.). Contraponto.

Prebisch, R. (1986). Peripheral Capitalism: Crisis and Transformation . Fondo de Cultura Económica.

Puig, JC (1980). International doctrines and Latin American autonomy . Institute of Higher Studies of Latin America.