By Ewa Fronczak
(Centre For Internaltional Relations, Poland)
The 35th President of the United States, John F. Kennedy, once said that America was ready to “pay any price, bear any burden, face any adversity, support any friend, oppose any foe, to assure the survival and success of freedom.” The 47th President Donald Trump, seems to have a rather different view of America’s role in the world – it is not the defence of freedom or the spread of democracy that drives the current administration’s international policy, but the American national interest and the maximization of economic profits.
The term “Pax Americana” (American Peace) refers to the international order that the US built after World War II and the decades of relative peace and prosperity that followed under American economic and military leadership in the free world. The postwar years and the beginning of the Cold War whetted the appetite for expansionist internationalism. Both Democrats and Republicans coalesced around a grand strategy that ensured geopolitical stability and prosperity by projecting American power globally. In the following decades, the US policy was guided by the maxim that free economic exchange creates prosperity worldwide and thereby strengthens democratic governance.
The 1930s saw the successful integration of the world economy under US leadership, based on new international institutions: the Bretton Woods Monetary Agreement of 1944 and the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) of 1947. US economic liberalism sought to combine economic stability with welfare state measures. This changed with the rise of neoliberalism from 1970s, when emphasis was not only on removing barriers to trade and capital flows but also on privatisation, deregulation, and withdrawal of the state from the economy. With the rise of social inequality in many countries and the global financial crises (widely attributed to neoliberalism), the economic pillar of the Pax Americana began to be delegitimised.
However, the real paradigm shift in US economic policy was triggered by the rapid economic rise of another superpower, China, leading to a shift in the configuration of power in the world and growing geopolitical tensions. The system built by the US, based on combining American economic power with free trade and largely unrestricted flow of technology and capital, began to favour the development of the Asian Tigers and China more than America, which, captivated by the over 1.5 billion Chinese market, simply overslept and let itself be caught up in the economic and technological race.
And then Trump enters the scene, turning the table over in 2018; he turns 40 years of strategic cooperation into strategic rivalry and starts a trade war with the Middle Kingdom. The old paradigm and the previous model of globalisation have been replaced by a geoeconomic and transactional approach to international relations. The decisive question is no longer whether the exchange of goods, services and capital benefits all parties, but who benefits the most or, in other words, for whom the exchange means greater dependence.
Trump sees the economy as a potential weapon. As a result, trade restrictions and the use of coercive economic instruments such as sanctions and export controls have become even more important from Washington’s perspective. Of course, it’s not only since Trump’s first term (2017–2021) that the US has been using these instruments, but what is new is the extent to which America is threatening and imposing protectionist measures and sanctions not only on geopolitical and international rivals that violate norms, but also on partners and allies such as Mexico, Canada and the European Union.
Analysing the actions and words of US President and his associates so far, it’s clear the American-led global order is becoming a thing of the past, and Trump’s version of Pax Americana is very different from the one we know – it is directed inwards, limits involvement in distant theaters of war, focuses on building its own economy and subordinates foreign policy to its own national interest. Moreover, it is very likely that the transition from economic openness to geoeconomics will prove permanent and will no longer depend on changes in the White House.
The reasons for this decisive change of course have been clearly communicated to us – at some point the post-war order became disadvantageous to the US, because it burdened it with the responsibility of monitoring the globe and allowed European allies to “free-ride”. Secretary of State Marco Rubio during his Senate hearing left the world in no doubt when he said that the ‘unipolar world’ was simply a historical anomaly that was coming to an end. As the balance of power on the globe has changed, the US is also changing its modus operandi – from now on, hard power counts, and only strong countries have the final say.
Analysing the actions and words of the new White House administration, one can cite at least several pieces of evidence for a change in the American approach to the issue of supremacy and exercising the role of hegemon.
We are witnessing serious fractures in the relationship between the US and its closest trade and defence partners, including the EU. This divide is no longer limited to defence spending or trade issues; it extends far beyond disagreements over values and institutions. As J.D. Vance’s fiery rhetoric in Munich made clear, Trump and his surrogates believe that European culture has gone astray, degraded by its tolerance of illegal immigration, its abandonment of Christian traditions, and its pursuit of doing good for the world rather than focusing on family and country.
A key pillar of transatlantic solidarity—NATO—has also become America’s target. For Trump, European allies that fail to live up to their defence obligations are national security freeloaders, abusing the trade privileges granted to them by the US. Before his re-election, the president threatened to let Russia “do whatever it wants” to NATO members that fail to meet certain defence spending targets. But the hostility goes beyond defence spending.
Another example of America’s retreat from places that are not currently on its priority list is Trump’s response to events in Syria after the overthrow of Bashar al-Assad’s regime: “Syria is a mess… The US should have nothing to do with this. This is not our fight. Let it play out.” The assertive behaviour of China and the so-called Global South is yet another indication that the US is not only retreating from its position of primacy but is no longer treated as a global hegemon.
The current administration’s attitude toward its closest neighbours, in turn, indicates that Trump is using intimidation and ignorance of international law in order to rebuild the network of alliances in such a way that they better serve American interests – even at the cost of alliance credibility, which has ceased to be a profitable bargaining chip. The cases with Canada, Panama, and Greenland clearly show the type of policy Trump is focusing on – playing for himself, transactionality, deals. It’s therefore not surprising that Trump is ready to negotiate with Kim Jong-un, or to call Putin a “super guy”; and he will manage to conclude some kind of agreement and ease the growing geopolitical tensions, while limiting the country’s burdensome obligations abroad.
For the US, being a global hegemon has always meant active participation in international organizations, investing in soft power, and supporting global efforts to build democracy. Trump, on the other hand, has withdrawn the country from many important initiatives, suspended USAID, and replaced soft power with “peace through strength.” He uses economic power as leverage to extract concessions from other countries. Much like Putin used Russian oil and gas to intimidate Europe, Trump imposes drastic tariffs and forces domestic and foreign corporations to move production to the US; in other words, he practices classic power politics and spheres of interest based on an order in which economic intimidation replaces free trade and international cooperation as the currency of power.
Tracing the strategic narrative and response of the European Union’s two largest powers, France and Germany, to actions from overseas, one can see the beginning of a process of preparing for the post-Pax Americana era.
Since taking office in 2017, French President Macron has sought to Europeanize France’s understanding of European sovereignty. From his 2017 Sorbonne speech to his 2020 Military School speech and his 2024 Sorbonne speech, Macron has consistently called for Europeans to exercise greater strategic autonomy, less dependence on the US, and greater investment in their own defense industries.
The post-war global supremacy of the US meant that the Americans did not agree to other powers having exclusive spheres of influence; it was treated as too great a threat to American hegemony. And so, in the case of both Ukraine and Taiwan, it was associated with years of investment in defending the sovereignty of these regions. However, current decisions and strategic narrative from Washington indicate, at the very least, a change in approach regarding Russian and Chinese spheres of influence.
If one follows the statements of leading government officials and even the US President himself, one may get the impression that American determination to defend Taiwan’s sovereignty is neither certain nor unconditional. Trump spoke signaling that Taiwan should bear a larger share of its own defense costs and questioning the wisdom of providing further military aid without financial compensation.
In turn, Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth, saying that the United States should no longer be responsible for fully subsidizing the defense of its allies abroad, referred not only to the issue of Taiwan but also Ukraine. The manner of conducting peaceful negotiations with Russia and the matter of signing an agreement with Ukraine clearly demonstrate the strategic recalibration of the American defense policy towards NATO’s eastern flank. Trump’s talks with Putin to date and his reluctance to provide Ukrainians with security guarantees quite clearly indicate the Americans’ readiness to surrender this part of Europe to the Russian zone of influence. For Trump, what matters most is the “deal” and the future economic profits awaiting Ukraine, not whether Zelensky will be replaced as president by some pro-Russian apparatchik.
Trump and the ruling team, frustrated by the costs of global leadership, seem not to notice the numerous benefits resulting from this fact. There is no doubt that American hegemony is expensive to maintain, but at the same time it has enabled the construction of a world favorable to American interests, which has brought a generous dividend to American pockets for decades.
Trump’s “Make America great again” (MAGA) challenges the existing system of hegemonic stability, in which a leading state accepts certain sacrifices (such as a trade deficit) in order to secure global public goods such as free trade and security. What was at the heart of the liberal international order under US leadership, according to Trump, has led to his country being exploited by enriching, free-riding Europeans. Most importantly, it has allowed developing countries at the bottom of the global value chain to rise to unexpectedly high positions, which will harm the development plans of the US in the long run.
Thus, the American goal, as Vice President Vance has openly admitted, is to maintain a strict international division of labor, in which poor countries on the periphery produce low-value-added goods (with high competition and therefore low profits), while rich countries in the core reap exorbitant monopoly rents from control over high-value-added technologies (with little or no competition, reinforced by strict intellectual property rights). There is no denying that with this approach to the matter, the US is setting itself on a collision course both with its greatest strategic rival, China, but also with much of the globe, the so-called Global South, determined and rushing along its development path. How this Thucydides Trap ends, the next decade will show.— INFA