ALAN TANG
When the Soviet flag came down over the Kremlin, many in Washington believed they were watching history end in their favour. For a brief unipolar moment, American power seemed limitless: NATO expanded, markets opened, and the language of “liberal order” spread almost by default. Yet three decades later, the United States finds itself torn between two exhausted instincts—holding on to an old vision of primacy, or pulling back from a world that no longer appears willing to be managed.
The dilemma is not simply whether America stays engaged or turns inward. It is whether it can reimagine leadership under conditions of multipolarity, domestic fragmentation, and increasingly sceptical allies. The familiar choices—global policeman on one extreme, reluctant bystander on the other—no longer match the pressures of an international system shaped by China’s rise, Russia’s renewed assertiveness, and the growing voice of the Global South. The question is whether a new American internationalism can emerge that is more selective, more alliance-centred, and more grounded in the realities of its own middle class than the expansive ambitions of the post-9/11 era.
The Cold War’s conclusion did not just eliminate a rival; it dismantled the strategic discipline the rivalry had instilled in American foreign policy. During the Cold War, the doctrine of containment required Washington to distinguish between critical and peripheral theaters, engage through alliances, and recognize the limits of American influence in different political contexts. Following 1991, this strategic discipline diminished. Without a peer competitor to impose constraints, a tendency emerged to conflate capabilities with entitlement.
This period is often called the “unipolar moment,” marked by the United States’ unmatched military capabilities, significant economic power, and a confident ideological stance after the Soviet Union’s collapse. NATO’s expansion aimed to embed Central and Eastern Europe within a more secure and democratic framework. Interventions in the Balkans were justified as both strategic imperatives and moral responsibilities. Additionally, trade liberalization and stronger global institutions seemed to extend the effectiveness of a rules-based international order. While each initiative had its own rationale, collectively they fostered the belief that American dominance could not only deter threats but also shape the political trajectories of entire regions.
In the wake of the September 11, 2001, attacks, U.S. foreign policy evolved from a strategy of containment to one emphasizing transformative change. The objective shifted toward removing adversarial regimes and establishing democratic institutions in their stead. Consequently, the conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq were framed not just as acts of self-defense but as critical experiments to test whether overwhelming military force could effectively reconstruct fractured states and foster a more stable regional order. The issue was not the abrupt decline of American power. Rather, military dominance addressed only the initial phase of the challenge. While it could dismantle regimes and defeat armies, it struggled to foster legitimacy, unify differing political factions, or establish locally accepted governance structures. The aftermath of the 2003 Iraq invasion starkly highlighted this reality. Overthrowing a regime did not resolve the complexities of governing a fragmented state. In fact, it often exacerbated them.
This exemplifies the mechanism of overreach in U.S. foreign policy. Policymakers often translated military superiority into unwarranted confidence in political outcomes, creating a significant gap between strategic ambitions and the means to achieve them. Hal Brands highlights that American primacy relies not only on power but also on the ability to translate that power into a stable and legitimate international order. This conversion was more complex than the rhetoric of the unipolar era suggested. The ramifications of prolonged military engagements extended beyond Iraq and Afghanistan. Such extended operations consumed not only military focus and financial resources but also political capital. They also exacerbated the civil–military divide, as a limited professional force and a select group of policymakers shouldered the immediate burdens of conflict, while the broader public perceived these wars from a distance—until the cumulative consequences became undeniable.
Meanwhile, the post-Cold War era brought significant domestic economic transformation, marked by deindustrialization, regional disparities, financial instability, and an uneven distribution of globalization’s benefits. This context fostered a growing perception that the United States prioritized substantial investments abroad while neglecting the communities adversely affected by economic shifts at home. While foreign policy did not directly cause all factory closures or declines in local opportunities, it became associated with an elite establishment perceived as more focused on reshaping other nations than on revitalizing its own.
recently completed an MSc in International Relations at the London School of Economics and Political Science. His research interests include U.S. foreign policy, geopolitical competition, ocean governance, space security, and public diplomacy.
The post-Cold War model of primacy faltered not only because of a succession of misguided interventions, but because it became structurally untenable. It required a level of political transformation abroad that American power could not consistently deliver, reinforced dependencies among allies that positioned the United States as the principal security provider, and lacked a comprehensive domestic coalition to sustain, finance, and validate its ambitions over the long term. The key takeaway is not that the United States should relinquish its leadership role, but that such leadership must not rely on the assumption that American power can solve all problems, that allies will remain perpetually dependent, or that external commitments will maintain public support despite domestic repercussions. The unipolar era did not end because of a decline in American capability. Rather, it ended because the unrestrained use of power, lacking political grounding, proved increasingly unsustainable.
By the 2010s, strategic fatigue emerged as a dominant theme in American political discourse. The conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan shifted the perception of military intervention from a demonstration of national resolve to a testament to previous overconfidence. Once-unified bipartisan support for liberal internationalism eroded, giving way to heightened skepticism about alliances, trade agreements, overseas military presence, and the international institutions that had historically facilitated U.S. influence. The term “forever wars” reflects deep discontent with the expectations foreign-policy elites place on Americans to support prolonged military engagements abroad, often without clear justification of their domestic benefits. Strategically, these conflicts have drained resources while failing to yield sustainable security. Morally and politically, many perceive that Washington can allocate extensive resources to effect change in foreign societies, yet neglect tackling insecurity, inequality, and institutional decline within its own borders.
Donald Trump’s “America First” agenda epitomized a significant political backlash against established international relations norms. Allies were seen less as strategic partners and more as clients who neglected their financial obligations. Trade agreements were criticized as drivers of deindustrialization, while multilateral institutions were seen as constraints rather than tools of American influence. The implementation of tariffs, a transactional diplomatic approach, and ongoing skepticism towards NATO reflected a departure from traditional isolationism. Instead, these actions signalled a rebellion against the perceived burdens and expectations of post-Cold War dominance.
The critique highlighted a key reality: the United States has often struggled to distinguish between core commitments and less critical pursuits. Specifically, the mission in Afghanistan had evolved into a strategically diminishing endeavour, with ongoing involvement unlikely to influence the nation’s fundamental political or military dynamics. A Brookings evaluation suggested the withdrawal was strategically warranted, as the mission had become a futile investment incapable of altering Afghanistan’s trajectory. The key takeaway is not that withdrawal is inherently reckless, but rather that unwavering persistence can itself represent a form of strategic evasion. However, retrenchment is not a strategy simply because it diminishes commitments; it also requires hard decisions about which interests are essential, which responsibilities to share with allies, which risks to embrace, and how both partners and adversaries will perceive a diminished American role. While a state may curtail its exposure, this does not automatically reduce the instability that could ultimately affect it.
The withdrawal from Afghanistan highlights significant ambiguities regarding U.S. leadership in international relations. The swift collapse of Kabul adversely affected global views of American authority, as a comprehensive study published in the British Journal of Political Science found a 4–5 percentage-point decline in public approval of U.S. leadership across 24 nations. While this does not conclusively indicate that every ally believes the U.S. would abandon its commitments, research from South Korea and China suggests some respondents viewed the withdrawal as potentially enabling the U.S. to bolster its military presence in East Asia. Nonetheless, this situation amplified broader anxieties about the United States’ ability to implement major strategic realignments effectively, communicate those changes credibly, and reassure partners that have depended on its support.
This distinction is significant. Credibility is not a simplistic measure that fluctuates uniformly with each foreign-policy decision. Allied states assess U.S. commitments through the lens of specific interests, treaty obligations, and regional dynamics. While Afghanistan differs markedly from South Korea, Japan, or NATO allies, the withdrawal raised concerns about competence and political will. In alliance politics, perception does not supersede capability, but it can shape how that capability is interpreted. Europe offers a compelling case study of the risks of uncoordinated military retrenchment. For years, the Atlantic alliance has operated on an implicit agreement: the United States has shouldered much of NATO’s strategic framework—encompassing nuclear deterrence, intelligence, command structures, logistics, and advanced conventional forces—while many European nations have allocated relatively little funding for territorial defense. Russia’s extensive invasion of Ukraine highlighted the vulnerabilities inherent in this division of responsibilities.
The issue extends beyond whether European nations achieve specific defense expenditure benchmarks. It also encompasses the adequacy of Europe’s ammunition production, integrated air and missile defense systems, logistical capabilities, readiness, intelligence gathering, and the political unity needed to sustain deterrence during an extended crisis. A swift U.S. military reduction in Europe might not strengthen Europe. Instead, it could create uncertainty at a critical moment when Moscow may seek to challenge NATO’s political cohesion. The paradox of burden-sharing in international relations centers on the expectation that wealthier allies assume greater responsibility for their security. While Washington’s demand for increased contributions is valid, framing it as a coercive ultimatum—“contribute more or risk U.S. withdrawal”—can undermine the trust essential for effective collective defense. This approach may lead European governments to pursue national rather than collective strategies, complicate decision-making, and cast doubt on the longevity of U.S. commitments, particularly amid electoral cycles. While strategic ambiguity may have a place in deterrence, it can be detrimental within an alliance.
The Middle East presents a distinct perspective on the challenges of foreign intervention. The setbacks in Iraq and Afghanistan have discredited extensive occupations and regime-change initiatives. However, regional actors often perceive a sudden or unclear decrease in American involvement as an opportunity. Russia’s intervention in Syria exemplifies how a relatively modest military presence can transform military action into a tool for political influence. Research from Carnegie emphasizes that Russia sustained its involvement with only 30–40 combat aircraft, about 20 helicopters, several hundred mercenaries, and a maximum of 4,000–6,000 troops at any time—significantly fewer than forces deployed by other regional actors—while capitalizing on inconsistencies in U.S. policy.
The assertion that a reduction in U.S. presence invariably creates a void for Russia or China is overly simplistic. Regional states have agency and do not merely wait for great powers to dictate their trajectories. However, when Washington’s priorities are unclear, it allows rivals and local actors greater latitude to test boundaries, expand influence, and alter the diplomatic landscape. Research indicates that inconsistent U.S. engagement and the withdrawal from northeast Syria provided Moscow the opportunity to assert itself as a more prominent security actor in the region. As a result, retrenchment must not be conflated with strategic disengagement. A vacuum is not merely empty space; it becomes an arena where alternative actors shape the framework of influence. The critical inquiry is not whether the United States can or should oversee every region—such capability is untenable. Instead, it centers on whether Washington can distinguish between commitments that undermine its power and those that mitigate more severe future crises.
The post-Cold War model of primacy faltered not only because of a succession of misguided interventions, but because it became structurally untenable. It required a level of political transformation abroad that American power could not consistently deliver, reinforced dependencies among allies that positioned the United States as the principal security provider, and lacked a comprehensive domestic coalition to sustain, finance, and validate its ambitions over the long term. The key takeaway is not that the United States should relinquish its leadership role, but that such leadership must not rely on the assumption that American power can solve all problems, that allies will remain perpetually dependent, or that external commitments will maintain public support despite domestic repercussions. The unipolar era did not end because of a decline in American capability. Rather, it ended because the unrestrained use of power, lacking political grounding, proved increasingly unsustainable.
By the 2010s, strategic fatigue emerged as a dominant theme in American political discourse. The conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan shifted the perception of military intervention from a demonstration of national resolve to a testament to previous overconfidence. Once-unified bipartisan support for liberal internationalism eroded, giving way to heightened skepticism about alliances, trade agreements, overseas military presence, and the international institutions that had historically facilitated U.S. influence. The term “forever wars” reflects deep discontent with the expectations foreign-policy elites place on Americans to support prolonged military engagements abroad, often without clear justification of their domestic benefits. Strategically, these conflicts have drained resources while failing to yield sustainable security. Morally and politically, many perceive that Washington can allocate extensive resources to effect change in foreign societies, yet neglect tackling insecurity, inequality, and institutional decline within its own borders.
Donald Trump’s “America First” agenda epitomized a significant political backlash against established international relations norms. Allies were seen less as strategic partners and more as clients who neglected their financial obligations. Trade agreements were criticized as drivers of deindustrialization, while multilateral institutions were seen as constraints rather than tools of American influence. The implementation of tariffs, a transactional diplomatic approach, and ongoing skepticism towards NATO reflected a departure from traditional isolationism. Instead, these actions signalled a rebellion against the perceived burdens and expectations of post-Cold War dominance.
The critique highlighted a key reality: the United States has often struggled to distinguish between core commitments and less critical pursuits. Specifically, the mission in Afghanistan had evolved into a strategically diminishing endeavour, with ongoing involvement unlikely to influence the nation’s fundamental political or military dynamics. A Brookings evaluation suggested the withdrawal was strategically warranted, as the mission had become a futile investment incapable of altering Afghanistan’s trajectory. The key takeaway is not that withdrawal is inherently reckless, but rather that unwavering persistence can itself represent a form of strategic evasion. However, retrenchment is not a strategy simply because it diminishes commitments; it also requires hard decisions about which interests are essential, which responsibilities to share with allies, which risks to embrace, and how both partners and adversaries will perceive a diminished American role. While a state may curtail its exposure, this does not automatically reduce the instability that could ultimately affect it.
The withdrawal from Afghanistan highlights significant ambiguities regarding U.S. leadership in international relations. The swift collapse of Kabul adversely affected global views of American authority, as a comprehensive study published in the British Journal of Political Science found a 4–5 percentage-point decline in public approval of U.S. leadership across 24 nations. While this does not conclusively indicate that every ally believes the U.S. would abandon its commitments, research from South Korea and China suggests some respondents viewed the withdrawal as potentially enabling the U.S. to bolster its military presence in East Asia. Nonetheless, this situation amplified broader anxieties about the United States’ ability to implement major strategic realignments effectively, communicate those changes credibly, and reassure partners that have depended on its support.
This distinction is significant. Credibility is not a simplistic measure that fluctuates uniformly with each foreign-policy decision. Allied states assess U.S. commitments through the lens of specific interests, treaty obligations, and regional dynamics. While Afghanistan differs markedly from South Korea, Japan, or NATO allies, the withdrawal raised concerns about competence and political will. In alliance politics, perception does not supersede capability, but it can shape how that capability is interpreted. Europe offers a compelling case study of the risks of uncoordinated military retrenchment. For years, the Atlantic alliance has operated on an implicit agreement: the United States has shouldered much of NATO’s strategic framework—encompassing nuclear deterrence, intelligence, command structures, logistics, and advanced conventional forces—while many European nations have allocated relatively little funding for territorial defense. Russia’s extensive invasion of Ukraine highlighted the vulnerabilities inherent in this division of responsibilities.
The issue extends beyond whether European nations achieve specific defense expenditure benchmarks. It also encompasses the adequacy of Europe’s ammunition production, integrated air and missile defense systems, logistical capabilities, readiness, intelligence gathering, and the political unity needed to sustain deterrence during an extended crisis. A swift U.S. military reduction in Europe might not strengthen Europe. Instead, it could create uncertainty at a critical moment when Moscow may seek to challenge NATO’s political cohesion. The paradox of burden-sharing in international relations centers on the expectation that wealthier allies assume greater responsibility for their security. While Washington’s demand for increased contributions is valid, framing it as a coercive ultimatum—“contribute more or risk U.S. withdrawal”—can undermine the trust essential for effective collective defense. This approach may lead European governments to pursue national rather than collective strategies, complicate decision-making, and cast doubt on the longevity of U.S. commitments, particularly amid electoral cycles. While strategic ambiguity may have a place in deterrence, it can be detrimental within an alliance.
The Middle East presents a distinct perspective on the challenges of foreign intervention. The setbacks in Iraq and Afghanistan have discredited extensive occupations and regime-change initiatives. However, regional actors often perceive a sudden or unclear decrease in American involvement as an opportunity. Russia’s intervention in Syria exemplifies how a relatively modest military presence can transform military action into a tool for political influence. Research from Carnegie emphasizes that Russia sustained its involvement with only 30–40 combat aircraft, about 20 helicopters, several hundred mercenaries, and a maximum of 4,000–6,000 troops at any time—significantly fewer than forces deployed by other regional actors—while capitalizing on inconsistencies in U.S. policy.
The assertion that a reduction in U.S. presence invariably creates a void for Russia or China is overly simplistic. Regional states have agency and do not merely wait for great powers to dictate their trajectories. However, when Washington’s priorities are unclear, it allows rivals and local actors greater latitude to test boundaries, expand influence, and alter the diplomatic landscape. Research indicates that inconsistent U.S. engagement and the withdrawal from northeast Syria provided Moscow the opportunity to assert itself as a more prominent security actor in the region. As a result, retrenchment must not be conflated with strategic disengagement. A vacuum is not merely empty space; it becomes an arena where alternative actors shape the framework of influence. The critical inquiry is not whether the United States can or should oversee every region—such capability is untenable. Instead, it centers on whether Washington can distinguish between commitments that undermine its power and those that mitigate more severe future crises.
A sustainable American foreign policy must reject two prevalent pitfalls. First, it must avoid maintaining legacy commitments solely because of the perceived political risks of withdrawal. Second, treating disengagement as inherently strategically wise without evaluating its consequences is equally flawed. The United States should pursue fewer open-ended missions, set clearer priorities, and build stronger partnerships. Moreover, effective leadership should not be assessed merely by financial commitments; it should be evaluated by whether decisions enhance or undermine the broader international framework that underpins American influence.
A novel framework for American internationalism cannot merely be a more appealing term for an established strategy. Its academic significance hinges on a harder question: what should replace the post-Cold War premise that effective American leadership requires extensive military dominance and the geopolitical transformation of other nations? The current discourse presents multiple competing frameworks, including liberal hegemony, restraint, offshore balancing, and selective engagement, each revealing significant limitations in the others. However, none independently resolves the complexities of strategic competition, alliance dynamics, domestic economic constraints, technological interdependence, and institutional legitimacy that fundamentally influence American power.
Liberal hegemony holds that the United States’ security is best ensured by maintaining a stable international order. It emphasizes that alliances, military presence, open markets, and international institutions are essential for global stability. A key insight of this perspective is that American security is interconnected with international developments. Events such as major wars, coercive actions in East Asia, financial crises, technological threats, and the erosion of global norms can significantly impact U.S. prosperity and security before a direct military threat emerges.Liberal hegemony has often obscured the distinction between safeguarding an international order and actively shaping it. While sustaining alliances and deterrence can be essential, the notion that the United States must dictate political outcomes globally or utilize military force to propagate liberal values is considerably more ambitious. The post-9/11 era showed how a strategy aimed at preserving order could become entangled in extensive political transformation efforts. The primary failure was not the pursuit of international engagement itself, but rather the flawed belief that American military dominance could reliably create legitimacy in foreign contexts.
Restraint offers an essential corrective to this habit. Its advocates warn that foreign interventions can produce unintended consequences, that military power has clear political limits, and that allies should not be permanently insulated from the costs of their own security. The restraint tradition is not intellectually uniform: some advocates focus on preventing great-power war, while others emphasize protecting domestic democracy, reducing military expenditure, or avoiding the inequalities associated with an expansive security state. What unites them is skepticism toward the claim that a vast overseas posture is the indispensable foundation of American security.
This critique deserves serious attention. A strategy that makes every regional crisis a test of American credibility eventually converts limited interests into unlimited obligations. Yet restraint can become too dismissive of the assets that sustained alliances provide. Alliances are not simply bilateral partners available to Washington. They generate intelligence-sharing, operational interoperability, basing access, diplomatic influence, market ties, technological collaboration, and political legitimacy. RAND’s recent network analysis concluded that the U.S. alliance and partner network remains sufficiently strong and robust to support the execution of U.S. grand strategy. The question is not whether these relationships cost the United States. They do. The question is whether their benefits can be preserved while their burdens are distributed more fairly.
Offshore balancing presents a pragmatic approach in international relations. It advocates that the United States maintain significant influence from a distance, intervening directly only when a rival state threatens to dominate a key strategic area, typically Europe, East Asia, or the Persian Gulf. This strategy emphasizes efficient resource allocation: regional powers should primarily manage their own balances of power, while the United States retains the capability to intervene if the regional order deteriorates.
The challenges associated with offshore balancing are both temporal and geographical. This strategy holds that the United States can withdraw during stable periods and re-engage effectively when a regional hegemon poses a threat. However, essential elements such as deterrence, access, intelligence sharing, and political trust cannot be easily reestablished in times of crisis. These elements are cultivated through ongoing consultation, joint planning, and a consistent force posture. Scholars of U.S. grand strategy often classify approaches such as deep engagement, restraint, and offshore balancing based on differing assumptions about the significance of alliances and military presence before a crisis. A reactive strategy that delays intervention until a clear imbalance occurs may find its options significantly constrained.
The goal is to coordinate rather than command, to deter without occupation, and to engage without overextension.
Traditional selective engagement serves as a robust foundational approach in international relations. It acknowledges that regions differ in strategic significance, prompting the United States to focus its resources where power dynamics directly affect its security and economic interests. This approach rejects both universal intervention and blanket withdrawal, emphasizing stability in critical areas while shunning the ambition of hegemonic dominance. Even selective engagement, in its traditional sense, raises two critical questions today. First, how can international commitments maintain legitimacy in the United States, where citizens increasingly question foreign policy’s relevance to their economic security? Second, how can Washington lead effectively when allies call for greater participation and countries in the Global South prioritize representation and autonomy over mere security assistance? These inquiries indicate a shift toward a model of networked leadership in international relations.
Networked leadership retains a disciplined approach to selective engagement but alters the political dynamics of leadership. It views alliances not as passive recipients of U.S. protection but as collaborative systems that co-create stability. While the United States remains essential for certain capabilities—such as nuclear deterrence, intelligence sharing, strategic logistics, advanced technology, crisis management, and coalition building—regional partners must undertake a significantly larger role in conventional defense, resilience, industrial capacity, diplomatic efforts, and regional problem-solving. This concept extends beyond mere financial burden-sharing; it embodies a redefined division of responsibilities. In Europe, the United States will maintain NATO’s strategic framework while European allies build capacity in ammunition production, air defense, logistics, and conventional warfare to defend territory effectively. In the Indo-Pacific, the U.S. will bolster deterrence and technological partnerships, collaborating with Japan, Australia, South Korea, India, Taiwan, ASEAN states, and European partners based on their respective interests and capabilities. In the Middle East, Washington will safeguard its core interests and deter significant escalations while avoiding the role of default manager for every regional conflict.
This model contrasts with traditional alliance management by acknowledging that more capable partners will naturally enjoy greater autonomy, presenting an inherent trade-off. For instance, a Europe equipped with enhanced defense capabilities may adopt stances that the United States may not favor. Similarly, India will maintain its strategic independence even while fostering closer ties with the U.S., and Southeast Asian nations are likely to resist pressure to choose definitively between Beijing and Washington. These differences should not be seen as failures; rather, a network of empowered partners, each with genuine agency, is likely more resilient than one built on dependency or coercion. The principles of economic and technological statecraft have evolved, particularly in U.S. grand strategy, which historically viewed domestic economic policy and foreign policy as distinct domains. This separation is increasingly untenable. Key areas such as semiconductor production, critical minerals, clean-energy supply chains, digital standards, and advanced research now intertwine economic prosperity with national security. The United States must strengthen its domestic capabilities; however, achieving resilience requires collaboration with trusted partners to coordinate investment, research, standards, and supply chains rather than pursuing unattainable economic self-sufficiency.
Therefore, networked leadership rests on three key principles. First, prioritizing American power is essential; not every global crisis warrants an equal military response. Secondly, it is vital to share American power; allies and partners should be empowered to increase their influence, even if it means diminishing Washington’s unilateral authority. Lastly, American power must be anchored domestically. International commitments should align with a domestic consensus that ensures economic security complements international engagement. This framework does not eliminate inherent trade-offs. More distributed leadership typically leads to slower coordination and potential disagreements. While industrial policy can enhance resilience, it may also create tensions with allies. Enhanced European capabilities might foster greater autonomy. Efforts to compete with China could become counterproductive if they necessitate political alignment from states with diverse interests. Nevertheless, these challenges should not prompt a retreat into nostalgia for past dominance or a preference for isolation. Rather, they represent the current realities within which effective leadership must now operate.
The goal of a new American internationalism is not to reinstate a global order in which Washington sets every rule and bears all responsibility. Instead, it aims to establish a system in which American leadership is defined by its ability to foster collective strength: to coordinate rather than command, to deter without ongoing occupation, and to engage without undermining the political foundations needed for sustained involvement. Selective engagement necessitates a critical premise: not all crises warrant equal attention, military resources, or political investment from the United States. A strategy that treats every region as equally important undermines the ability to distinguish essential interests from those that are merely advantageous. The central question is not whether the U.S. should remain globally engaged, but rather where such engagement can most effectively deter aggression, maintain a favorable balance of power, safeguard key economic networks, and prevent localized instability from spiraling into broader disorder.
In the near future, Europe and the Indo-Pacific will remain Washington’s primary strategic arenas. However, they present distinct challenges that require tailored approaches. Europe’s focus is on maintaining the credibility of treaty alliances and addressing Russian aggression. In contrast, the Indo-Pacific entails a broader, longer-term competition with China, encompassing military dynamics, maritime access, critical technologies, supply chain stability, and regional influence. While the Middle East remains significant, it should no longer dominate U.S. attention and military resources as it did following 9/11. The challenge lies not in setting priorities but in translating them into a feasible distribution of responsibilities, ensuring that prioritization does not amount to neglect.
In Europe, selective engagement should not merely mean reducing American troop presence and urging European nations to increase defense spending. While this strategy may be appealing in Washington, it is strategically inadequate. Effective deterrence relies on operational capacity—such as ammunition availability, integrated air and missile defense systems, secure logistics, trained personnel, resilient infrastructure, intelligence sharing, industrial capabilities, and effective command structures under duress. The conflict between Russia and Ukraine has highlighted critical distinctions in Europe’s defense capabilities. While Europe has made notable strides in strengthening military support and expanding defense-industrial capacity, the war has also exposed significant shortages. Initiatives such as the European Union’s common procurement strategies and the European Peace Facility have facilitated military assistance and aimed to boost ammunition production. However, challenges in meeting the goal of supplying one million artillery rounds have revealed the gap between political aspirations and industrial capacity.
The alliance has initiated a response through NATO’s Industrial Capacity Expansion Pledge, which prioritizes collaboration with defense industries and the rapid production of essential capabilities, particularly in ammunition and air-defense systems. This approach is critical, as modern deterrence relies not only on the immediate availability of forces during a crisis but also on the alliance’s ability to replenish losses and sustain operations over extended periods. A redefined American internationalism should establish a clearer division of labor in security roles. The United States should maintain and enhance capabilities European states cannot quickly replicate, including extended nuclear deterrence, strategic intelligence, high-end command and control, long-range mobility, select missile defense systems, and rapid reinforcement during crises. Meanwhile, European allies should increasingly take on responsibilities for conventional territorial defense, ammunition production and stockpiling, air and missile defense, logistics, force readiness, cyber resilience, and the protection of critical infrastructure.
This discussion transcends the notion of Europe merely “paying its bills.” It focuses on establishing a sustainable military alliance. If the United States continues to shoulder most of Europe’s conventional defense responsibilities, it risks increasing domestic pressure to scale back its commitments. Conversely, a Europe reliant on American defense may struggle to deter threats if Washington’s focus wavers or its political landscape becomes unstable. The most effective alliance is not one in which the United States shoulders all burdens or retreats from engagement, but one that cultivates collective military capacity. A significant trade-off is clear: stronger European capabilities could lead to greater strategic autonomy. A more capable Europe may adopt stances that diverge from Washington’s on issues like China, trade, or military engagement. Some U.S. policymakers might interpret this as a diminishing of influence. However, a certain level of autonomy is a necessary consequence of fostering stronger allies. The alternative is a Europe that remains perpetually dependent, where its vulnerabilities repeatedly necessitate American support.
Washington’s task is therefore political as well as military. It must make clear that burden-sharing is not an exit strategy. If European governments hear only the message that America is tired of Europe, they may hedge, fragment, or pursue national solutions that weaken collective defense. If they instead understand that Washington is committed to a stronger, more capable alliance, greater European responsibility can reinforce rather than dilute transatlantic solidarity. American influence in Europe should not be evaluated by the presence of troops stationed on the continent, but by NATO’s ability to deter and withstand coercion through robust European capabilities, rather than by reliance on extensive U.S. support.
The Indo-Pacific region poses a distinct strategic challenge. China is more than a regional military threat. It is a systemic competitor that can undermine U.S. interests across domains including maritime power, technology, industrial capabilities, standards-setting, digital infrastructure, finance, and diplomacy. The primary challenge lies not only in preventing military conflict but in ensuring that no single power can coercively dominate the region’s political decisions, trade routes, technological frameworks, or security architecture. Effective deterrence in Asia cannot rely exclusively on American military forces because of geographical constraints, distances, and differing regional interests. The United States must build a network of treaty allies, strategic partners, and capable regional actors, each contributing based on its unique political context and strategic goals. Japan’s defense transformation, South Korea’s technological prowess, Australia’s geographic advantages, India’s influence in the Indian Ocean, Taiwan’s role in semiconductor supply chains, and the diplomatic significance of ASEAN states collectively create a complex strategic environment that goes beyond traditional bilateral alliances. Washington’s task is to integrate these relationships without imposing a rigid Cold War-style framework.
The Quad and AUKUS exemplify distinct manifestations of a networked diplomatic strategy. AUKUS prioritizes hard security, advanced defense capabilities, and long-term deterrence. Member nations have described this alliance as a way to leverage national strengths, enable defense-industrial collaboration, and provide “layered and asymmetric capabilities” that strengthen integrated deterrence. This initiative is significant not only for its focus on nuclear-powered submarines but also for its aim to unify industrial capabilities, promote technology-sharing, drive innovation, and ensure military interoperability among the United States, Australia, and the United Kingdom. The Quad functions distinctly and should not be viewed as an Asian NATO. Its significance stems from the informal collaboration among Australia, India, Japan, and the United States. The agenda encompasses maritime security, emerging technologies, economic resilience, humanitarian aid, clean energy supply chains, digital connectivity, and critical minerals. Providing over 400 million COVID-19 vaccine doses in the Indo-Pacific shows how strategic partnerships can deliver public benefits beyond merely counterbalancing China’s influence.
This distinction matters, as the United States cannot prevail in its competition with China through military posturing or mere rhetorical affirmations of a “free and open Indo-Pacific.” Regional states will evaluate U.S. leadership by its ability to expand their options, bolster economic resilience, improve infrastructure, and uphold their political autonomy. An approach that views every regional issue exclusively through the lens of confrontation with Beijing may alienate the very nations essential to cooperation. Technology plays a pivotal role in contemporary international relations. Advanced semiconductors, artificial intelligence, quantum computing, undersea cables, and 5G and 6G networks constitute the backbone of state power. The Quad has explicitly associated trusted technology collaboration with security, supply-chain resilience, and competitive economies, focusing on critical minerals, advanced manufacturing, and trusted networks.
A sustainable U.S. strategy should integrate targeted restrictions with broader technological collaboration. It must safeguard genuinely sensitive technologies, diversify strategic supply chains, and coordinate export controls effectively. However, it should avoid framing all economic interactions with China as security risks. Complete decoupling is neither practical nor conducive to stability, as it would burden U.S. firms, alienate partners with significant economic ties to China, and potentially fragment the global landscape into rigid blocs.
The more pragmatic goal is de-risking: minimizing strategic vulnerabilities while maintaining some degree of economic interdependence. This entails enhancing domestic capabilities while acknowledging that resilience is fundamentally multinational. The United States cannot achieve complete self-sufficiency in sectors such as semiconductors and critical minerals. It relies on Taiwan’s manufacturing expertise, Japanese materials, South Korean memory technology, Dutch lithography, and mineral resources from Australia and beyond, as well as collaborative research networks across Europe and Asia. Effective leadership also involves navigating complex trade-offs. More capable partners may not always align with U.S. preferences. For instance, India values its strategic autonomy, while ASEAN nations are reluctant to choose between their security ties with the United States and their economic links with China. Even close allies might resist American export controls or industrial subsidies if they impose high costs. These divergences do not signify a failure of partnership. Rather, they illustrate that the Indo-Pacific is not a region the U.S. can unilaterally dominate. The objective is not to establish Asia as a new Cold War bloc, but to prevent coercive hegemony while maintaining a regional order that allows states flexibility in their actions. Achieving this requires credible deterrence alongside practical cooperation, ensuring American partnerships offer value beyond security assurances.
The Middle East remains strategically significant. However, the United States should not invest the same level of military resources, political capital, and strategic focus it did after September 11th. Experiences in Iraq and Afghanistan revealed the limits of extensive military engagements, regime changes, and indefinite political reconstruction efforts. A revised framework for American internationalism should challenge the notion that every regional crisis necessitates an increased U.S. military presence. Although American interests have not vanished, significant motivations remain for continued U.S. engagement. These include preventing major regional conflicts, mitigating threats from transnational terrorist organizations, ensuring freedom of navigation in vital maritime corridors, deterring nuclear proliferation, managing escalation risks between Israel and Iran, and supporting allies whose security decisions shape the regional balance. To rank national interests effectively, avoid elevating objectives such as regime change in Tehran, regional military supremacy, or the obligation to solve every local conflict. A more strategic approach would focus on deterring major escalations, targeted counterterrorism efforts, intelligence sharing, maritime security, diplomacy, and stronger regional burden-sharing.
Sustainable international engagement requires a credible domestic consensus.
An international order loses legitimacy when much of the world is excluded from decision-making.
These concerns should not be dismissed as only protectionist grievances from affluent allies. Conversely, they highlight a critical strategic challenge. A decline in European manufacturing driven by American industrial policy could undermine the allied capabilities essential to collective resilience. If the United States seeks to rally its partners against coercive dependencies on China while concurrently diverting investment and innovation from them, it will complicate, rather than enhance, alliance coordination. The solution does not lie in abandoning industrial policy but in internationalizing it. Instead of viewing allies as rivals competing for a limited pool of investment, Washington should establish frameworks for cooperative resilience. This includes coordinated supply-chain mapping, shared strategic stockpiles, standardized technologies, reciprocal investment arrangements, joint research initiatives, and trusted-vendor networks. The key criterion should be straightforward: does a policy enhance the collective capacity of allied nations, or does it simply shift resources from one partner economy to another?
This strategy aligns with the concept of “friend-shoring.” Although often applied imprecisely, it suggests that shifting production from China to the United States inherently strengthens allied resilience. In reality, friend-shoring should mean building diversified production networks among trusted partners so no single disruption, political conflict, or coercive action can jeopardize critical supply chains. The aim is not isolationism, but rather to ensure redundancy, diversification, and collaborative capacity. Inevitably, trade-offs exist in international cooperation. Enhanced coordination may impede timely decision-making. Allies are likely to seek access to U.S. technology, subsidies, and markets as a condition for policy alignment. Domestic stakeholders might argue that internationalizing industrial strategy reduces its advantages for American workers. However, the alternative— a narrowly focused national strategy—could yield short-term domestic investment but risk fragmenting America’s broader coalition, fostering resentment, and diminishing resilience against coercive measures.
Domestic renewal and international engagement are intrinsically linked. A United States that lacks robust industrial capacity, secure supply chains, and domestic confidence will struggle to exert global influence. Conversely, efforts to enhance domestic conditions at the expense of allied capabilities will ultimately undermine the very partnerships crucial to its own security. The primary challenge is building a secure foundation of essential domestic capabilities while avoiding economic isolation. A viable American internationalism must demonstrate to citizens that global engagement can bolster economic security rather than compromise it. At the same time, it must convey to allies that American revitalization is not a zero-sum endeavour but an integral part of a broader initiative to build a more resilient democratic economic order. The true indicator of success will not be the complete return of all factories to the United States. Instead, it will hinge on the ability of the United States and its allies to collectively uphold the industrial, technological, and social pillars of power in a global landscape where economic dependence can quickly become a strategic vulnerability.
The argument for a revised American internationalism must extend beyond reinforcing alliances in Europe and the Indo-Pacific. While these partnerships are crucial, they represent only a segment of the global landscape. Many countries do not align closely with the U.S., China, or Russia. Instead, they prioritize debt management, sustainable development, climate resilience, food and energy security, public health, infrastructure, and political autonomy. The strategic importance of the Global South cannot be overstated. Washington often sees these nations as mere players in its geopolitical rivalry with Beijing and Moscow, overlooking their autonomy. Countries in Africa, Latin America, South Asia, Southeast Asia, and the Middle East typically do not frame their interests within a binary alignment model. Instead, they may collaborate with the United States on security, engage in trade with China, seek development financing from diverse sources, and assert their independence against pressure from major powers to take sides. The Global South should not be perceived as a monolithic entity, as its constituent nations, including India, Brazil, Indonesia, South Africa, Saudi Arabia, Kenya, and Vietnam, exhibit diverse political systems and foreign-policy objectives. However, they collectively argue that post-1945 institutions no longer reflect current global demographics, economic standing, and political dynamics.
The demand for “reformed multilateralism” arises from existing global imbalances. It is not merely a bid for greater efficiency but a call for stronger representation, equity, and influence over the rules governing security, finance, development, technology, and climate action. Proposals to reform the UN Security Council, amplify the voices of developing nations within the International Monetary Fund and World Bank, improve sovereign debt mechanisms, expand climate finance, and enhance access to development funding are interconnected. An international order lacks legitimacy if a significant portion of the global community is sidelined from its decision-making processes. The United Nations’ 2024 Pact for the Future directly addresses underrepresentation in its diplomatic efforts. Adopted at the Summit of the Future, the pact aims to make the international system more inclusive and effective in meeting contemporary global challenges. It notably includes a significant commitment to reform the Security Council, emphasizing Africa’s historical underrepresentation as a critical priority.
This commitment holds significant political and institutional importance. The Security Council’s permanent membership reflects the victorious powers of 1945 and fails to represent today’s distribution of power, population, and legitimacy. A governing body tasked with addressing modern threats cannot sustain its credibility while Africa, Latin America, and much of Asia remain underrepresented in critical decision-making processes. Reforming the Security Council is a complex undertaking. Expanding representation raises critical questions: which states should gain permanent seats, how regional representation should work, whether new members should have veto power, and how to keep the Council effective with a larger membership. The veto power remains a significant barrier to reform. Nevertheless, the challenges do not justify inaction. A Security Council that fails to become more representative risks becoming formally relevant yet politically marginalized.
Washington should consider reform as a strategic investment rather than a mere concession. Enhancing the representativeness of international institutions does not diminish American influence. Instead, it recognizes that influence is more enduring when exercised through institutions others perceive as legitimate. The United States ought to advocate concrete measures to promote greater representation from Africa, Asia, and Latin America, improve transparency, and increase the participation of states directly affected by the Council’s decisions. The principle of credibility in international economic governance is particularly pertinent for developing nations. Their reliance on the international system is often measured by access to financing, emergency liquidity, climate adaptation costs, and infrastructure investment rather than by Security Council deliberations. UNCTAD has highlighted the necessity for a robust global financial safety net, enhanced multilateral development banks, and reliable sovereign-debt restructuring mechanisms to ensure the system can respond effectively and efficiently to emerging challenges.
Contemporary American internationalism must address developing countries’ concerns through substantial reforms to the international financial system. This includes enhancing the representation and voting power of these economies, bolstering multilateral development banks, streamlining debt-restructuring processes, and increasing access to concessional finance. Additionally, climate finance should be regarded as a fundamental issue of global legitimacy rather than a peripheral concern. For nations grappling with rising sea levels, drought, and food insecurity, climate adaptation is essential to ensuring both economic and political stability. This approach transcends mere charity. It reflects a strategic imperative. In regions where the United States fails to provide credible development partnerships, alternative actors, particularly China, will assume that role. The Belt and Road Initiative exemplifies the geopolitical significance of infrastructure financing, despite criticism over debt accumulation, transparency, environmental impacts, and project feasibility. To counteract Chinese influence, Washington must do more than issue warnings; it must propose viable alternatives. This includes strengthening infrastructure partnerships of higher quality, ensuring transparent financing, providing technical support, promoting digital connectivity, investing in clean energy, fostering public health collaborations, and improving market access.
American influence will depend less on unilateral power and more on organizing collective power.
A sustainable American foreign policy must reject two prevalent pitfalls. First, it must avoid maintaining legacy commitments solely because of the perceived political risks of withdrawal. Second, treating disengagement as inherently strategically wise without evaluating its consequences is equally flawed. The United States should pursue fewer open-ended missions, set clearer priorities, and build stronger partnerships. Moreover, effective leadership should not be assessed merely by financial commitments; it should be evaluated by whether decisions enhance or undermine the broader international framework that underpins American influence.
A novel framework for American internationalism cannot merely be a more appealing term for an established strategy. Its academic significance hinges on a harder question: what should replace the post-Cold War premise that effective American leadership requires extensive military dominance and the geopolitical transformation of other nations? The current discourse presents multiple competing frameworks, including liberal hegemony, restraint, offshore balancing, and selective engagement, each revealing significant limitations in the others. However, none independently resolves the complexities of strategic competition, alliance dynamics, domestic economic constraints, technological interdependence, and institutional legitimacy that fundamentally influence American power.
Liberal hegemony holds that the United States’ security is best ensured by maintaining a stable international order. It emphasizes that alliances, military presence, open markets, and international institutions are essential for global stability. A key insight of this perspective is that American security is interconnected with international developments. Events such as major wars, coercive actions in East Asia, financial crises, technological threats, and the erosion of global norms can significantly impact U.S. prosperity and security before a direct military threat emerges.Liberal hegemony has often obscured the distinction between safeguarding an international order and actively shaping it. While sustaining alliances and deterrence can be essential, the notion that the United States must dictate political outcomes globally or utilize military force to propagate liberal values is considerably more ambitious. The post-9/11 era showed how a strategy aimed at preserving order could become entangled in extensive political transformation efforts. The primary failure was not the pursuit of international engagement itself, but rather the flawed belief that American military dominance could reliably create legitimacy in foreign contexts.
Restraint offers an essential corrective to this habit. Its advocates warn that foreign interventions can produce unintended consequences, that military power has clear political limits, and that allies should not be permanently insulated from the costs of their own security. The restraint tradition is not intellectually uniform: some advocates focus on preventing great-power war, while others emphasize protecting domestic democracy, reducing military expenditure, or avoiding the inequalities associated with an expansive security state. What unites them is skepticism toward the claim that a vast overseas posture is the indispensable foundation of American security.
This critique deserves serious attention. A strategy that makes every regional crisis a test of American credibility eventually converts limited interests into unlimited obligations. Yet restraint can become too dismissive of the assets that sustained alliances provide. Alliances are not simply bilateral partners available to Washington. They generate intelligence-sharing, operational interoperability, basing access, diplomatic influence, market ties, technological collaboration, and political legitimacy. RAND’s recent network analysis concluded that the U.S. alliance and partner network remains sufficiently strong and robust to support the execution of U.S. grand strategy. The question is not whether these relationships cost the United States. They do. The question is whether their benefits can be preserved while their burdens are distributed more fairly.
Offshore balancing presents a pragmatic approach in international relations. It advocates that the United States maintain significant influence from a distance, intervening directly only when a rival state threatens to dominate a key strategic area, typically Europe, East Asia, or the Persian Gulf. This strategy emphasizes efficient resource allocation: regional powers should primarily manage their own balances of power, while the United States retains the capability to intervene if the regional order deteriorates.
The challenges associated with offshore balancing are both temporal and geographical. This strategy holds that the United States can withdraw during stable periods and re-engage effectively when a regional hegemon poses a threat. However, essential elements such as deterrence, access, intelligence sharing, and political trust cannot be easily reestablished in times of crisis. These elements are cultivated through ongoing consultation, joint planning, and a consistent force posture. Scholars of U.S. grand strategy often classify approaches such as deep engagement, restraint, and offshore balancing based on differing assumptions about the significance of alliances and military presence before a crisis. A reactive strategy that delays intervention until a clear imbalance occurs may find its options significantly constrained.
Traditional selective engagement serves as a robust foundational approach in international relations. It acknowledges that regions differ in strategic significance, prompting the United States to focus its resources where power dynamics directly affect
its security and economic interests. This approach rejects both universal intervention and blanket withdrawal, emphasizing stability in critical areas while shunning the ambition of hegemonic dominance. Even selective engagement, in its traditional sense, raises two critical questions today. First, how can international commitments maintain legitimacy in the United States, where citizens increasingly question foreign policy’s relevance to their economic security? Second, how can Washington lead effectively when allies call for greater participation and countries in the Global South prioritize representation and autonomy over mere security assistance? These inquiries indicate a shift toward a model of networked leadership in international relations.
Networked leadership retains a disciplined approach to selective engagement but alters the political dynamics of leadership. It views alliances not as passive recipients of U.S. protection but as collaborative systems that co-create stability. While the United States remains essential for certain capabilities—such as nuclear deterrence, intelligence sharing, strategic logistics, advanced technology, crisis management, and coalition building—regional partners must undertake a significantly larger role in conventional defense, resilience, industrial capacity, diplomatic efforts, and regional problem-solving. This concept extends beyond mere financial burden-sharing; it embodies a redefined division of responsibilities. In Europe, the United States will maintain NATO’s strategic framework while European allies build capacity in ammunition production, air defense, logistics, and conventional warfare to defend territory effectively. In the Indo-Pacific, the U.S. will bolster deterrence and technological partnerships, collaborating with Japan, Australia, South Korea, India, Taiwan, ASEAN states, and European partners based on their respective interests and capabilities. In the Middle East, Washington will safeguard its core interests and deter significant escalations while avoiding the role of default manager for every regional conflict.
This model contrasts with traditional alliance management by acknowledging that more capable partners will naturally enjoy greater autonomy, presenting an inherent trade-off. For instance, a Europe equipped with enhanced defense capabilities may adopt stances that the United States may not favor. Similarly, India will maintain its strategic independence even while fostering closer ties with the U.S., and Southeast Asian nations are likely to resist pressure to choose definitively between Beijing and Washington. These differences should not be seen as failures; rather, a network of empowered partners, each with genuine agency, is likely more resilient than one built on dependency or coercion. The principles of economic and technological statecraft have evolved, particularly in U.S. grand strategy, which historically viewed domestic economic policy and foreign policy as distinct domains. This separation is increasingly untenable. Key areas such as semiconductor production, critical minerals, clean-energy supply chains, digital standards, and advanced research now intertwine economic prosperity with national security. The United States must strengthen its domestic capabilities; however, achieving resilience requires collaboration with trusted partners to coordinate investment, research, standards, and supply chains rather than pursuing unattainable economic self-sufficiency.
Therefore, networked leadership rests on three key principles. First, prioritizing American power is essential; not every global crisis warrants an equal military response. Secondly, it is vital to share American power; allies and partners should be empowered to increase their influence, even if it means diminishing Washington’s unilateral authority. Lastly, American power must be anchored domestically. International commitments should align with a domestic consensus that ensures economic security complements international engagement. This framework does not eliminate inherent trade-offs. More distributed leadership typically leads to slower coordination and potential disagreements. While industrial policy can enhance resilience, it may also create tensions with allies. Enhanced European capabilities might foster greater autonomy. Efforts to compete with China could become counterproductive if they necessitate political alignment from states with diverse interests. Nevertheless, these challenges should not prompt a retreat into nostalgia for past dominance or a preference for isolation. Rather, they represent the current realities within which effective leadership must now operate.
The goal of a new American internationalism is not to reinstate a global order in which Washington sets every rule and bears all responsibility. Instead, it aims to establish a system in which American leadership is defined by its ability to foster collective strength: to coordinate rather than command, to deter without ongoing occupation, and to engage without undermining the political foundations needed for sustained involvement. Selective engagement necessitates a critical premise: not all crises warrant equal attention, military resources, or political investment from the United States. A strategy that treats every region as equally important undermines the ability to distinguish essential interests from those that are merely advantageous. The central question is not whether the U.S. should remain globally engaged, but rather where such engagement can most effectively deter aggression, maintain a favorable balance of power, safeguard key economic networks, and prevent localized instability from spiraling into broader disorder.
In the near future, Europe and the Indo-Pacific will remain Washington’s primary strategic arenas. However, they present distinct challenges that require tailored approaches. Europe’s focus is on maintaining the credibility of treaty alliances and addressing Russian aggression. In contrast, the Indo-Pacific entails a broader, longer-term competition with China, encompassing military dynamics, maritime access, critical technologies, supply chain stability, and regional influence. While the Middle East remains significant, it should no longer dominate U.S. attention and military resources as it did following 9/11. The challenge lies not in setting priorities but in translating them into a feasible distribution of responsibilities, ensuring that prioritization does not amount to neglect.
In Europe, selective engagement should not merely mean reducing American troop presence and urging European nations to increase defense spending. While this strategy may be appealing in Washington, it is strategically inadequate. Effective deterrence relies on operational capacity—such as ammunition availability, integrated air and missile defense systems, secure logistics, trained personnel, resilient infrastructure, intelligence sharing, industrial capabilities, and effective command structures under duress. The conflict between Russia and Ukraine has highlighted critical distinctions in Europe’s defense capabilities. While Europe has made notable strides in strengthening military support and expanding defense-industrial capacity, the war has also exposed significant shortages. Initiatives such as the European Union’s common procurement strategies and the European Peace Facility have facilitated military assistance and aimed to boost ammunition production. However, challenges in meeting the goal of supplying one million artillery rounds have revealed the gap between political aspirations and industrial capacity.
The alliance has initiated a response through NATO’s Industrial Capacity Expansion Pledge, which prioritizes collaboration with defense industries and the rapid production of essential capabilities, particularly in ammunition and air-defense systems. This approach is critical, as modern deterrence relies not only on the immediate availability of forces during a crisis but also on the alliance’s ability to replenish losses and sustain operations over extended periods. A redefined American internationalism should establish a clearer division of labor in security roles. The United States should maintain and enhance capabilities European states cannot quickly replicate, including extended nuclear deterrence, strategic intelligence, high-end command and control, long-range mobility, select missile defense systems, and rapid reinforcement during crises. Meanwhile, European allies should increasingly take on responsibilities for conventional territorial defense, ammunition production and stockpiling, air and missile defense, logistics, force readiness, cyber resilience, and the protection of critical infrastructure.
This discussion transcends the notion of Europe merely “paying its bills.” It focuses on establishing a sustainable military alliance. If the United States continues to shoulder most of Europe’s conventional defense responsibilities, it risks increasing domestic pressure to scale back its commitments. Conversely, a Europe reliant on American defense may struggle to deter threats if Washington’s focus wavers or its political landscape becomes unstable. The most effective alliance is not one in which the United States shoulders all burdens or retreats from engagement, but one that cultivates collective military capacity. A significant trade-off is clear: stronger European capabilities could lead to greater strategic autonomy. A more capable Europe may adopt stances that diverge from Washington’s on issues like China, trade, or military engagement. Some U.S. policymakers might interpret this as a diminishing of influence. However, a certain level of autonomy is a necessary consequence of fostering stronger allies. The alternative is a Europe that remains perpetually dependent, where its vulnerabilities repeatedly necessitate American support.
Washington’s task is therefore political as well as military. It must make clear that burden-sharing is not an exit strategy. If European governments hear only the message that America is tired of Europe, they may hedge, fragment, or pursue national solutions that weaken collective defense. If they instead understand that Washington is committed to a stronger, more capable alliance, greater European responsibility can reinforce rather than dilute transatlantic solidarity. American influence in Europe should not be evaluated by the presence of troops stationed on the continent, but by NATO’s ability to deter and withstand coercion through robust European capabilities, rather than by reliance on extensive U.S. support.
The Indo-Pacific region poses a distinct strategic challenge. China is more than a regional military threat. It is a systemic competitor that can undermine U.S. interests across domains including maritime power, technology, industrial capabilities, standards-setting, digital infrastructure, finance, and diplomacy. The primary challenge lies not only in preventing military conflict but in ensuring that no single power can coercively dominate the region’s political decisions, trade routes, technological frameworks, or security architecture. Effective deterrence in Asia cannot rely exclusively on American military forces because of geographical constraints, distances, and differing regional interests. The United States must build a network of treaty allies, strategic partners, and capable regional actors, each contributing based on its unique political context and strategic goals. Japan’s defense transformation, South Korea’s technological prowess, Australia’s geographic advantages, India’s influence in the Indian Ocean, Taiwan’s role in semiconductor supply chains, and the diplomatic significance of ASEAN states collectively create a complex strategic environment that goes beyond traditional bilateral alliances. Washington’s task is to integrate these relationships without imposing a rigid Cold War-style framework.
The Quad and AUKUS exemplify distinct manifestations of a networked diplomatic strategy. AUKUS prioritizes hard security, advanced defense capabilities, and long-term deterrence. Member nations have described this alliance as a way to leverage national strengths, enable defense-industrial collaboration, and provide “layered and asymmetric capabilities” that strengthen integrated deterrence. This initiative is significant not only for its focus on nuclear-powered submarines but also for its aim to unify industrial capabilities, promote technology-sharing, drive innovation, and ensure military interoperability among the United States, Australia, and the United Kingdom. The Quad functions distinctly and should not be viewed as an Asian NATO. Its significance stems from the informal collaboration among Australia, India, Japan, and the United States. The agenda encompasses maritime security, emerging technologies, economic resilience, humanitarian aid, clean energy supply chains, digital connectivity, and critical minerals. Providing over 400 million COVID-19 vaccine doses in the Indo-Pacific shows how strategic partnerships can deliver public benefits beyond merely counterbalancing China’s influence.
This distinction matters, as the United States cannot prevail in its competition with China through military posturing or mere rhetorical affirmations of a “free and open Indo-Pacific.” Regional states will evaluate U.S. leadership by its ability to expand their options, bolster economic resilience, improve infrastructure, and uphold their political autonomy. An approach that views every regional issue exclusively through the lens of confrontation with Beijing may alienate the very nations essential to cooperation. Technology plays a pivotal role in contemporary international relations. Advanced semiconductors, artificial intelligence, quantum computing, undersea cables, and 5G and 6G networks constitute the backbone of state power. The Quad has explicitly associated trusted technology collaboration with security, supply-chain resilience, and competitive economies, focusing on critical minerals, advanced manufacturing, and trusted networks.
A sustainable U.S. strategy should integrate targeted restrictions with broader technological collaboration. It must safeguard genuinely sensitive technologies, diversify strategic supply chains, and coordinate export controls effectively. However, it should avoid framing all economic interactions with China as security risks. Complete decoupling is neither practical nor conducive to stability, as it would burden U.S. firms, alienate partners with significant economic ties to China, and potentially fragment the global landscape into rigid blocs.
The more pragmatic goal is de-risking: minimizing strategic vulnerabilities while maintaining some degree of economic interdependence. This entails enhancing domestic capabilities while acknowledging that resilience is fundamentally multinational. The United States cannot achieve complete self-sufficiency in sectors such as semiconductors and critical minerals. It relies on Taiwan’s manufacturing expertise, Japanese materials, South Korean memory technology, Dutch lithography, and mineral resources from Australia and beyond, as well as collaborative research networks across Europe and Asia. Effective leadership also involves navigating complex trade-offs. More capable partners may not always align with U.S. preferences. For instance, India values its strategic autonomy, while ASEAN nations are reluctant to choose between their security ties with the United States and their economic links with China. Even close allies might resist American export controls or industrial subsidies if they impose high costs. These divergences do not signify a failure of partnership. Rather, they illustrate that the Indo-Pacific is not a region the U.S. can unilaterally dominate. The objective is not to establish Asia as a new Cold War bloc, but to prevent coercive hegemony while maintaining a regional order that allows states flexibility in their actions. Achieving this requires credible deterrence alongside practical cooperation, ensuring American partnerships offer value beyond security assurances.
The Middle East remains strategically significant. However, the United States should not invest the same level of military resources, political capital, and strategic focus it did after September 11th. Experiences in Iraq and Afghanistan revealed the limits of extensive military engagements, regime changes, and indefinite political reconstruction efforts. A revised framework for American internationalism should challenge the notion that every regional crisis necessitates an increased U.S. military presence. Although American interests have not vanished, significant motivations remain for continued U.S. engagement. These include preventing major regional conflicts, mitigating threats from transnational terrorist organizations, ensuring freedom of navigation in vital maritime corridors, deterring nuclear proliferation, managing escalation risks between Israel and Iran, and supporting allies whose security decisions shape the regional balance. To rank national interests effectively, avoid elevating objectives such as regime change in Tehran, regional military supremacy, or the obligation to solve every local conflict. A more strategic approach would focus on deterring major escalations, targeted counterterrorism efforts, intelligence sharing, maritime security, diplomacy, and stronger regional burden-sharing.
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