In the long run, the question isn’t whether all countries will use digital currencies domestically, but why central banks will issue them—what problem are they trying to solve?
Central banks around the world are developing their own digital currencies—Central Bank Digital Currencies (CBDCs)—with the goal of maintaining sovereignty in an increasingly digital world. Unlike Bitcoin, CBDCs are centralized, state-controlled, and recorded on the central bank’s balance sheet just like physical cash. But this race for digital dinars, yuans, and euros is far from coordinated—everyone dreams in their own language.
There’s a fundamental difference between a regular dinar and a digital one. A regular dinar held in a commercial bank is a liability of that bank toward you. If the bank fails, your money is gone unless it’s insured. On the other hand, a digital dinar would be a liability of the National Bank, and it can’t fail as long as the state exists.
But the key difference lies in surveillance. With regular money, only your commercial bank and payment processors (like Visa or Mastercard) have insight into your transactions, and the state gets access only if it requests it. With a digital dinar, there’s no anonymity—the state sees every transaction in real time.
For banks, CBDCs are a nightmare. While cryptocurrencies have undermined banks from below, CBDCs threaten them from above—together they take away both clients and the intermediary role in the financial system. Instead of simply holding deposits and processing payments, banks are now being pushed to offer services like digital wallets, investment tools, and microloans. Banks that stick to teller counters and interest rates are headed for obscurity. Those that transform into digital service centers for users, businesses, and the state stand a chance of surviving.
For governments, CBDCs are a godsend. First, they provide complete oversight of financial flows, which speeds up tax collection and helps fight money laundering. Second, the government can directly distribute subsidies to citizens without intermediaries. Third, by introducing CBDCs, governments nationalize the financial system, which for decades has been dominated by private banks and fintech firms—this is power.
In the long run, the question isn’t whether all countries will adopt digital currencies domestically, but why central banks are issuing them—what problem do they want to solve? Over 130 countries are officially exploring national digital currencies. China (e-CNY) and Sweden (e-krona) have developed two very different CBDC systems, while Serbia is still searching for its path.
China sets the rules. As early as 2014, the Chinese government formed a research group for the e-CNY, and today it’s being piloted in 20 major cities. The motives are clear: strengthen central control through more transparent money flows, reduce the dominance of private fintech companies, and project geopolitical power in a bid to replace the dollar with the yuan.
China isn’t forcing the digital yuan—so far, it’s being introduced strategically through selective incentives and pilot programs. In the entire Chinese economy, the e-CNY still accounts for less than 1% of transactions, but in pilot cities (Beijing, Shanghai, Shenzhen, etc.) it’s estimated to make up 5–10% of transactions—for example, subsidies, public sector salaries, taxi services, public transport. Overall, around 300 million people (22% of the population) have a digital yuan wallet.
For China, the digital currency is not only a tool for internal control but also a means of global influence. In Africa, Chinese banks and companies are already using the e-CNY in bilateral deals, especially within Belt and Road infrastructure projects. The goal is to bypass the dollar in international transactions and make the Chinese yuan the new reference currency for the developing world. In theory, it’s economic integration. In practice, it’s digital geopolitics.
Sweden sets the standards. Over 90% of transactions in Sweden are digital; cash is becoming a relic of the past. Many stores and banks no longer accept it, while private apps like Swish and Apple Pay dominate daily payments. For comparison, in Serbia, roughly half of all transactions are still made in cash.
To adapt to this shift, Sweden’s central bank launched the e-krona project in 2017—a digital version of the national currency. The goal isn’t to eliminate cash but to provide a digital equivalent of state-issued physical money: accessible, safe, and non-profit.
In Sweden, the state serves the people, not the other way around, so the digital currency isn’t about power—it’s about trust. That’s why the e-krona hasn’t been launched yet. The technology is ready, but the public hasn’t shown a real need for it. For the Riksbank, this isn’t a failure—it’s a successful reading of the public mood. Sweden is thus setting an important standard for digitalization: don’t rush ahead of everyone, move in step with your people.
While cryptocurrencies have undermined banks from below, CBDCs threaten them from above—together they take away both clients and the role of intermediaries in the system.
Digital currencies are neither salvation nor threat in themselves. In China, they’re a tool of surveillance. In Sweden, they’re built on trust. In other countries, they’re still just a future-sounding project, with no clear launch date—if they launch at all.
Every country today dreams of its own digital currency—euro or yuan—but without international cooperation, these dreams remain trapped within national borders. A CBDC without cross-border functionality is like a phone without internet: useful, but far from revolutionary. The idea that all digital currencies should speak the same technological language—a kind of financial Esperanto—sounds good, but that’s not how the world works. Esperanto failed because no one wanted to use it. In reality, everyone speaks English. And in money? Maybe it’s time we all learn Chinese.
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