LeonHard Xu
When Donald Trump first entered office in 2016, many viewed his foreign policy decisions— withdrawal from multilateral agreements, trade wars, and hostility toward traditional allies— as an aberration, a temporary departure from The US’ longstanding role as the “leader of the free world.” When Joe Biden assumed office in 2021 and proclaimed that “America is back,” many believed his promise. Yet four years later, Trump finds himself in the Oval Office again. It is clear that deep within the US, a widespread and profound rejection of its global role has taken root, triggering a seismic transformation in US relations with the rest of the world. Within weeks of taking office, the Trump administration threatened military action against Panama and Greenland—a NATO ally—announced plans to occupy Gaza, dismantled its foreign aid apparatus, launched even larger trade wars than during his first term, officially retreated as the primary security provider for Europe, and pressured Ukraine towards a weak, unsustainable “peace”. The liberal, rules-based international order that the US created and championed is unraveling further, faster, and more aggressively—led by none other than the United States itself.
The Birth of American Liberal Internationalism
From its founding, the US has wrestled with two competing visions of its global role. Isolationists wanted to keep the country out of entanglements beyond its immediate periphery, while Internationalists saw the US as a global force proactively shaping developments in the rest of the world. In the ruins of two devastating world wars, American leaders realised that it was in the nation’s self-interest to play an active role, using its newfound power to construct a common set of rules and organisations to govern the behavior between and within states. Born out of the ideas of liberalism, this post-war order had two main components: an open global economic system that championed free trade, marketisation, and globalisation, and an international political framework based on individual liberties, the right to self-determination, and the territorial integrity of all countries in the international system. To advance these liberal ideals, the US created a set of international institutions—the Bretton Woods system to promote economic liberalisation, UN agencies such as the World Health Organization (WHO) to provide global public goods, and a multilayered security system that includes the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE), and the United Nations Security Council (UNSC) to ensure the territorial integrity of its members.
Throughout the post-war history, the US found itself in a constant struggle between its self-image as leader of the “free world”—a champion and defender of human rights, democracy, and international law—and the realpolitik it pursued. In practice, it often violated liberal principles when expedient—engaging in regime change operations across the developing world, waging a “War on Terror” that devastated large parts of the Middle East, and shunning accountability by refusing to join and even sanctioning institutions like the International Criminal Court. Yet, despite episodes of international norms violation, there was a broad consensus within the US that deeper engagement in the global order was not just an idealistic pursuit but a strategy that ultimately served its own interests. A more developed and democratic world would make the US wealthier and safer.
This consensus is now gone.
From Liberal Internationalism to National Transactionalism
Today, Washington sees the very system it created as a threat to its national interest—a hostile instrument that erodes US sovereignty, economic power, and security. Or, as the new US Secretary of State Marco Rubio declared:
“The postwar global order is not just obsolete; it is now a weapon being used against us.”
The original promise of economic globalisation—that it would make Americans wealthier—has failed to materialise for large segments of American society. Although imported goods became cheaper for the average consumer, the rising tide did not lift all boats; nearly half of Americans have seen no real income growth since the 1980s, while inequality has ballooned. Meanwhile, China has leveraged its newfound economic strength and central position in global supply chains to expand its geopolitical influence. Washington’s once-powerful economic order is now being weaponised by its biggest geopolitical adversary, which is simultaneously gaining influence in international institutions originally designed to uphold US leadership.
Donald Trump’s 2016 diagnosis resonated with many: free trade, offshoring of manufacturing, and extensive foreign entanglements enriched other nations while eroding American wealth and power. Now, the US is actively dismantling the very order it engineered. Economically, the old “Washington Consensus” of free markets and trade liberalisation has been replaced by a new bipartisan consensus—economic nationalism. Both Republicans and Democrats alike are now seeking to bring back manufacturing onto American shores, reduce economic dependencies that create national security risks, and restrict China’s access to high-tech. To do so, the US has used tariffs, subsidies, export controls, and every other policy tool available. The difference between the two parties lies more in their methods than in their goals.
With the older generation of American liberal internationalists fading, the US is no longer pretending to be the global champion of human rights, democracy, or development. The value-based framing of “like-minded partners and democracy vs. autocracies” has disappeared; today, “like-minded” may well refer to conservative authoritarian strongmen. For at least the next four years, Washington’s global engagement will be purely transactional. While it will not completely withdraw from international affairs, every partnership, alliance, and decision will be evaluated solely on its perceived immediate benefit to US interests. Instead of embracing multilateralism, the focus will shift to bilateral and minilateral deals designed to extract short-term economic and security concessions.
During Trump’s first time in the Oval Office, he had to wrestle with traditional Republicans and technocrats within government bureaucracies that often opposed and constrained his actions. By the start of his second term, the old Republican Party has been replaced by a new generation of MAGA loyalists, while US government agencies are now being purged and hollowed out to replace career civil servants with true Trump believers. The prevailing assessment of this new administration is that American power has weakened while its adversaries have grown stronger—the US unipolar moment is gone and it is now just another great power competing in a multipolar world. Born from this reassessment—or self-degradation—the US is actively retreating from global leadership and shedding non-essential commitments abroad to focus their efforts on what they view as the two greatest threats to national liberty and security: immigration through its southern border and the rise of China.
Short-Term Gain, Long-Term Pain
Trump frequently portrays himself as a savvy businessman and dealmaker, and indeed, the US can secure a variety of short-term concessions from countries around the world thanks to its strong bargaining position. Just look at Panama, which withdrew from China’s Belt and Road Initiative after a visit by Secretary of State Rubio; the EU, Japan, and India, lining up to buy more American liquified natural gas and lower tariffs to avert a trade war with the US; and Europe, finally paying more for its own defence. Yet in the medium to long run, the US loses the channels of influence that once made it a global superpower, ultimately leaving itself weaker and less secure.
Traditional longstanding allies of the US, especially in North America and Europe, are confronting a new reality in which their most important ally regards them as just another negotiating party rather than a “special” partner. Across the Atlantic, we are witnessing a growing European-American split. The US is no longer willing to serve as the primary security guarantor for the European continent and is instead pursuing normalisation of relations with Russia. In a dramatic foreign policy U-turn, the US has shifted from supporting Ukrainian sovereignty and territorial integrity against an imperial land war to providing diplomatic backing for Russia, while pressuring the victim towards a “peace” deal without any substantial gurantees to shield against future Russian aggression. Furthermore, it is doubtful that the Trump administration would honor its Article 5 NATO commitments in the event of a Russian attack on the Baltics.
At the same time, the US appears increasingly preoccupied with Europe’s “enemies from within” and is even threatening to buy or invade Greenland, a NATO ally. In less than two months, the current administration in Washington has broken with the 80-year-old grand bargain in which the US provided security for Europe, while European nations contributed diplomatic, financial, and ideological support to a US-led, rules-based global order. The Europeans do not have the economic or military capacity to replace American global leadership but they—along with many other nations witnessing the seismic shifts in US foreign policy—will reevaluate their relationship with the US and increasingly hedge against American unpredictability. European leaders are already intensifying efforts to establish alternative trade and security partnerships that sideline the US, while also expanding their own arsenal of incentives and deterrents to push back against American trade policies and coercion—a scenario that ultimately leaves both economies weaker.
In the Indo-Pacific, the situation appears different. Countries in the region are likely to receive even more attention and possibly more concessions from Washington, which explains why many Indo-Pacific nations view the return of Trump optimistically. However, they too must grapple with the possibility that paramount leaders in Beijing and Pyongyang might look at Ukraine and feel emboldened to push for greater change in the territorial and political status quo through military means. The same is true for other nations located next to a revisionist nation unhappy with the current territorial boundaries and powerful enough to change them.
On a global scale, multilateral institutions and foreign aid are seen not only as a waste of money but also as vehicles for a “radical leftist” agenda that MAGA opposes. The US is consequently withdrawing from all multilateral institutions it deems contrary to its interests and is actively dismantling the world’s largest development agency, USAID. Such actions will not only lead to increased human suffering by reducing efforts to combat climate change, alleviate poverty, and prevent pandemics, but will also undermine US strategic interests. First, by retreating from some of the most vulnerable regions and geopolitical hotspots, the US loses its eyes, ears, and muscle on the ground, creating new breeding grounds for radical rebels and terrorists whose conflicts might eventually spill over into American territory. Second, this US retreat will create a vacuum that its strategic rivals— foremost among them China—are eager to fill. China will position itself as an anchor of global stability and a champion of multilateralism in contrast to American unpredictability and unilateralism. With the US retreating from international leadership and institutions, China now has an even greater opportunity to leverage its development and security initiatives to step into the space once occupied by the US and continue its quest to reshape global norms and institutions in line with its model of authoritarian party‑state capitalism.
For decades, critics argued that US foreign policy should live up to the liberal standards it created. Today, the US stands for a world where such standards are torn down completely. Whatever order emerges from the ruins of the US-led system will be more fragmented and transactional, less liberal, and defined by open, unapologetic competition among great powers.
Leonhard Xu is an MPhil student in International Relations and Research Fellow at the Oxford China Policy Lab. LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/in/leonhardxu.
