
In 1494, the world was not conquered, it was allotted. A line was drawn across the Atlantic, invisible to the eye but permanent in consequence. Oceans were treated like corridors, continents like pieces of an unfinished puzzle. What lay beyond the horizon was declared ownable simply because it was distant. The Treaty of Tordesillas did more than prevent conflict between two European powers. It established a precedent. It normalised the idea that sovereignty could be declared from a distance, that religion could legitimise expansion, and that silence equated to consent. Long before colonisation took physical form, it was legally and morally sanctioned. The Treaty of Tordesillas is not just a historical document. It is the blueprint of imperial power, international law shaped by inequality, and diplomacy divorced from justice. Understanding it means confronting how global order was built, who benefited, and who paid the price. It is time to rearrange the unfinished puzzle. It is time to make the jigsaw fall into place again.
What makes this treaty so enduring is not its complexity but its audacity. Two crowns, with the blessing of a pope who owed his throne in part to one of them, sat at a table and divided a hemisphere they had not seen, inhabited by peoples they had not met, governed by laws they had never been asked to honour. The line itself was barely a line at all- its exact location debated for decades, contested at sea, redrawn at Zaragoza, and ultimately abandoned by the very powers who once swore by it. Yet its consequence outlasted its precision. Empires were built upon an ambiguity that no one thought to question until the wealth had already been extracted, the populations already subdued, the world already reordered around an agreement that was never theirs to make.
This is the inheritance delegates must reckon with: not simply two kingdoms bargaining over geography, but the birth of a legal architecture that treated land as empty until claimed, treated peoples as obstacles rather than sovereigns, and treated distance itself as justification. Tordesillas reveals how easily legitimacy can be manufactured- through paperwork, through ritual, through the quiet complicity of those who choose not to ask who was there first. It is the ancestor of every doctrine that has since rationalised dispossession in the language of order, peace, or progress.
To debate the formation of the Treaty of Tordesillas is therefore not an academic exercise confined to 1494. It is to interrogate the origins of a world order still shaped by lines drawn without consent, borders inherited rather than chosen, and power structures that persist long after the treaties that created them have been forgotten or formally annulled. Delegates must ask: how does a document with no signatures from the millions it affected come to define the fate of continents for centuries? And more urgently- what does it mean to undo, or at least to honestly confront, an inheritance built on a line that was never truly anyone's to draw? The puzzle is unfinished still. It falls to you to decide what shape it takes next.
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AGENDA:
Formation of the Treaty of Tordesillas, 1494
TREATY OF TORDESILLAS

In 1494, the world was not conquered, it was allotted. A line was drawn across the Atlantic, invisible to the eye but permanent in consequence. Oceans were treated like corridors, continents like pieces of an unfinished puzzle. What lay beyond the horizon was declared ownable simply because it was distant. The Treaty of Tordesillas did more than prevent conflict between two European powers. It established a precedent. It normalised the idea that sovereignty could be declared from a distance, that religion could legitimise expansion, and that silence equated to consent. Long before colonisation took physical form, it was legally and morally sanctioned. The Treaty of Tordesillas is not just a historical document. It is the blueprint of imperial power, international law shaped by inequality, and diplomacy divorced from justice. Understanding it means confronting how global order was built, who benefited, and who paid the price. It is time to rearrange the unfinished puzzle. It is time to make the jigsaw fall into place again.
What makes this treaty so enduring is not its complexity but its audacity. Two crowns, with the blessing of a pope who owed his throne in part to one of them, sat at a table and divided a hemisphere they had not seen, inhabited by peoples they had not met, governed by laws they had never been asked to honour. The line itself was barely a line at all- its exact location debated for decades, contested at sea, redrawn at Zaragoza, and ultimately abandoned by the very powers who once swore by it. Yet its consequence outlasted its precision. Empires were built upon an ambiguity that no one thought to question until the wealth had already been extracted, the populations already subdued, the world already reordered around an agreement that was never theirs to make.
This is the inheritance delegates must reckon with: not simply two kingdoms bargaining over geography, but the birth of a legal architecture that treated land as empty until claimed, treated peoples as obstacles rather than sovereigns, and treated distance itself as justification. Tordesillas reveals how easily legitimacy can be manufactured- through paperwork, through ritual, through the quiet complicity of those who choose not to ask who was there first. It is the ancestor of every doctrine that has since rationalised dispossession in the language of order, peace, or progress.
To debate the formation of the Treaty of Tordesillas is therefore not an academic exercise confined to 1494. It is to interrogate the origins of a world order still shaped by lines drawn without consent, borders inherited rather than chosen, and power structures that persist long after the treaties that created them have been forgotten or formally annulled. Delegates must ask: how does a document with no signatures from the millions it affected come to define the fate of continents for centuries? And more urgently- what does it mean to undo, or at least to honestly confront, an inheritance built on a line that was never truly anyone's to draw? The puzzle is unfinished still. It falls to you to decide what shape it takes next.
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