The end of Pax Americana

As the world contemplates a future with a less dominant United States, geopolitical shifts may create new security challenges for nations like India

It may be hard for most of us to appreciate that the last 75 years have been an anomaly. The relative stability of the post-War era was underwritten by the United States — first in an uneasy balance with the Soviet Union and then for three decades on its own. Pax Americana had too many flaws to mention; but we are now beginning to see what the world may look like when it is gone.

This period has been an anomaly because, for most of its history, the United States has been an isolationist nation. This sprang from both ideological and natural causes. On the one hand, the new world is distant from the old; the continental US lies secure between two oceans, with friendly powers to its north and south. For most of its history, its dominance of its own hemisphere has been assured; it has failed to win only one war in its neighbourhood, when the British Empire fought it to a draw in the War of 1812. The security of US homeland was barely at risk even in the febrile years after 9/11. Indeed, the country’s reaction to that attack — or over-reaction, as we can probably conclude at this distance in time — reflected its complacency about its own security.

Isolationism is also arguably part of the country’s DNA. Its first President, George Washington, devoted the most memorable part of his farewell address to an argument against “entanglements” abroad. Describing the US’ geographical advantages as its “detached and distant situation”, he asked: “Why forego the advantages of so peculiar a situation? Why quit our own to stand upon foreign ground? Why, by interweaving our destiny with that of any part of Europe, entangle our peace and prosperity in the toils of European ambition, rivalship, interest, humour or caprice?”

Washington’s advice may have been inspired by the geopolitics of the moment — where France, a fellow republic and early defender of American independence, was fighting for its life against a Britain easily capable of squeezing both French and American commerce on the seas. But it had a long afterlife. It was not till World War II, more than a century and a half later, that the US first entered into a formal and permanent alliance. The Americans of the 19th century transformed this isolationism into a moral cause. Abraham Lincoln’s secretary of state, William Seward, declared that “American people must be content to recommend the cause of human progress by the wisdom with which they should exercise the powers of self-government, forbearing at all times, and in every way, from foreign alliances, intervention, and interference”.

The image that we have of America today is, of course, quite the opposite. But it is important to recognise that isolationism has a long pedigree in the US, and there are inarguable geographical reasons why it might work for the country. In the United States of 2023, one party is certainly close to rediscovering isolationism. Many in the Republican Party after Donald Trump are distrustful of its allies in Europe, who stand accused of not paying sufficiently for their common defence; transactional towards US partners elsewhere, especially in Asia; and unwilling to confront the Russian Federation or even continue support to Ukraine. The vast majority of Republican primary voters support candidates who are sceptical of continued aid to the Ukrainian military.

The Democratic Party is less likely to cut off support to Ukraine, but there is no question that, since Barack Obama left office, it too has turned inward. The party has quietly abandoned the trade deal that Mr Obama’s administration had negotiated, and commits less and less taxpayer money to global issues. Market access and economic support are both off the table for a party that has become convinced its electoral failures over the past two decades are caused by policies that insufficiently favour American labour.

For us in India and elsewhere, therefore, it may soon be necessary to imagine a world where the US is not playing as outsize a role as before. At the moment its military remains overpowered, many times the size of its rivals combined. There is no reason, however, to assume that this outsize advantage will survive another generation.

We may have complaints about how the US has used its power, but we should also recognise that a world without the US playing policeman may not necessarily or automatically be fairer or more peaceful. The Russian invasion of Ukraine, the Azerbaijani decision to end the decades-long stalemate with Armenia over the enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh, even the recent scare about the Serbian build-up of troops near its border with Kosovo — these are all signs that, even in Europe, Pax Americana is beginning to fray.

Elsewhere in the world, coups have been staged all over the Sahel with minimal response from the US. The civil war in Sudan between the regular army and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces has now lasted 100 days — and one of the most extraordinary facets of the story is that there is no US interest in it, and neither side has any major ties with, or expectations from Washington. If anything, it is the Egyptians, the Saudis and the Emiratis — all, supposedly, US allies — that have preferred sides in the conflict.

The US’ staunchest allies are preparing for a world in which they will have to take care of themselves. Germany intends to become Western Europe’s largest defence spender, setting aside 100 billion euros to modernise its armed forces. The Japanese recently passed a law that permits the country to start offering partners defence aid.

India stands where the US did once, wary of permanent alliances. But its chosen path will not be simplified if American power chooses to retreat. On the contrary, our security challenges may be multiplied.