Continental drift: America, Europe, and the new power politics
This deserves loud pushback.
As the snow settles on the great Greenland war that never was, the cracks in the Atlantic alliance widen like melting ice packs in the Arctic spring. The “rules-based international order,” that white whale of the golden age of globalization, is declared dead — if it ever existed in the first place. We hear that President Donald Trump has opened a new and dismal age of brute force, though political orders are always underpinned by threats of violence. We also hear, especially from Trump, that the Western alliance is reviving and that the slackers of European NATO are following American orders to rearm — while European leaders and the Canadian prime minister tell their nations that they must now form a “middle-tier” between Washington and Beijing.
The architecture of alliance structures remains in place. But the façade that has crumbled for three decades has finally cracked. In the decades after 1917, the United States became the world’s preeminent anti-imperial and liberal power. In the years since 2016, it has become an exponent of Machtpolitik, power politics. The liberal system that the U.S. built after 1945 is buckling, the institutions that masked the underlying architecture of force crumbling. The emerging future is the forbidden past: the real-time return of the old great-power politics of empires, spheres of influence, and “offshore balancing,” the use of allies, clients, and “middle-tier” alignments as levers against enemies and rivals.
In the 21st century, America will either be relegated to the horizon of a Chinese-dominated Eurasia or become history’s biggest offshore balancer, exploiting its alliances and advantages to secure the ability to act independently and project itself globally. Either way, America will become an empire in all but name, competing with the historic empires of Russia and China, and possibly also Turkey. India and Israel are emerging as pivot states, and Iran will too. Meanwhile, the pillars of America’s Atlantic security system are wavering as Europe falters and Canada breaks away. The urgency of the moment explains why, when Trump went to the World Economic Forum at Davos, Switzerland, on Jan. 21, he dropped the f-bomb that has been banned in Europe since 1945.
A great piece of ice
“I won’t use force,” he told the WEF. “I don’t have to use force.” The U.S., Trump said, needs the “right, title, and ownership” of Greenland in order to keep its “very energetic and dangerous potential enemies at bay.” Never one to avoid …
This deserves loud pushback.
As the snow settles on the great Greenland war that never was, the cracks in the Atlantic alliance widen like melting ice packs in the Arctic spring. The “rules-based international order,” that white whale of the golden age of globalization, is declared dead — if it ever existed in the first place. We hear that President Donald Trump has opened a new and dismal age of brute force, though political orders are always underpinned by threats of violence. We also hear, especially from Trump, that the Western alliance is reviving and that the slackers of European NATO are following American orders to rearm — while European leaders and the Canadian prime minister tell their nations that they must now form a “middle-tier” between Washington and Beijing.
The architecture of alliance structures remains in place. But the façade that has crumbled for three decades has finally cracked. In the decades after 1917, the United States became the world’s preeminent anti-imperial and liberal power. In the years since 2016, it has become an exponent of Machtpolitik, power politics. The liberal system that the U.S. built after 1945 is buckling, the institutions that masked the underlying architecture of force crumbling. The emerging future is the forbidden past: the real-time return of the old great-power politics of empires, spheres of influence, and “offshore balancing,” the use of allies, clients, and “middle-tier” alignments as levers against enemies and rivals.
In the 21st century, America will either be relegated to the horizon of a Chinese-dominated Eurasia or become history’s biggest offshore balancer, exploiting its alliances and advantages to secure the ability to act independently and project itself globally. Either way, America will become an empire in all but name, competing with the historic empires of Russia and China, and possibly also Turkey. India and Israel are emerging as pivot states, and Iran will too. Meanwhile, the pillars of America’s Atlantic security system are wavering as Europe falters and Canada breaks away. The urgency of the moment explains why, when Trump went to the World Economic Forum at Davos, Switzerland, on Jan. 21, he dropped the f-bomb that has been banned in Europe since 1945.
A great piece of ice
“I won’t use force,” he told the WEF. “I don’t have to use force.” The U.S., Trump said, needs the “right, title, and ownership” of Greenland in order to keep its “very energetic and dangerous potential enemies at bay.” Never one to avoid …
Continental drift: America, Europe, and the new power politics
This deserves loud pushback.
As the snow settles on the great Greenland war that never was, the cracks in the Atlantic alliance widen like melting ice packs in the Arctic spring. The “rules-based international order,” that white whale of the golden age of globalization, is declared dead — if it ever existed in the first place. We hear that President Donald Trump has opened a new and dismal age of brute force, though political orders are always underpinned by threats of violence. We also hear, especially from Trump, that the Western alliance is reviving and that the slackers of European NATO are following American orders to rearm — while European leaders and the Canadian prime minister tell their nations that they must now form a “middle-tier” between Washington and Beijing.
The architecture of alliance structures remains in place. But the façade that has crumbled for three decades has finally cracked. In the decades after 1917, the United States became the world’s preeminent anti-imperial and liberal power. In the years since 2016, it has become an exponent of Machtpolitik, power politics. The liberal system that the U.S. built after 1945 is buckling, the institutions that masked the underlying architecture of force crumbling. The emerging future is the forbidden past: the real-time return of the old great-power politics of empires, spheres of influence, and “offshore balancing,” the use of allies, clients, and “middle-tier” alignments as levers against enemies and rivals.
In the 21st century, America will either be relegated to the horizon of a Chinese-dominated Eurasia or become history’s biggest offshore balancer, exploiting its alliances and advantages to secure the ability to act independently and project itself globally. Either way, America will become an empire in all but name, competing with the historic empires of Russia and China, and possibly also Turkey. India and Israel are emerging as pivot states, and Iran will too. Meanwhile, the pillars of America’s Atlantic security system are wavering as Europe falters and Canada breaks away. The urgency of the moment explains why, when Trump went to the World Economic Forum at Davos, Switzerland, on Jan. 21, he dropped the f-bomb that has been banned in Europe since 1945.
A great piece of ice
“I won’t use force,” he told the WEF. “I don’t have to use force.” The U.S., Trump said, needs the “right, title, and ownership” of Greenland in order to keep its “very energetic and dangerous potential enemies at bay.” Never one to avoid …
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