The Erosion of the Post-War Order

The presidency of Donald Trump marked a profound rupture in the trajectory of U.S. foreign policy, challenging long-held assumptions about America’s role in the international system and its post-World War II commitment to multilateralism and collective security. His “America First” doctrine, rooted in nationalism, economic protectionism, and a transactional approach to alliances, revived debates about the nature of American imperialism—whether his administration represented a retreat from global leadership or a reassertion of U.S. dominance through unconventional means. Trump’s rhetoric and policy choices—ranging from territorial ambitions and trade coercion to ideological shifts and open disdain for international institutions—may well signify a reconfiguration of imperial practices rather than their abandonment.

Following the Second World War, the United States emerged not only as a victor but as the architect of a liberal international order, rooted in the promotion of democracy, open markets, and collective defense. Institutions such as the United Nations, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), the International Monetary Fund (IMF), and the World Bank were products of American vision and power, aimed at stabilizing the global system while embedding U.S. influence within a framework of multilateralism. Though this system was not free of contradictions or power imbalances, it masked its hegemonic tendencies behind the language of cooperation and global governance.

Trump’s foreign policy dismantled this mask. His open skepticism toward NATO, withdrawal from multilateral agreements like the Paris Climate Accord, the Iran Nuclear Deal, and the Trans-Pacific Partnership, and his contempt for international institutions signaled a rupture with the liberal internationalism of previous administrations. Trump’s transactional worldview reduced alliances to cost-benefit analyses, transforming diplomacy into deal-making and shifting from long-term stability to short-term gains. This approach was not merely disruptive—it raised fundamental questions about whether the United States was returning to a more overtly imperial model of international engagement.

Trump’s territorial ambitions, while unconventional in the modern context, evoke historical expansionist ideologies. His suggestion to reassert control over the Panama Canal, a strategic artery relinquished by the U.S. in 1999, signaled a retrogressive desire to reclaim past spheres of influence. Even more startling was his interest in purchasing Greenland from Denmark, a move that blended economic interests (resource acquisition) with strategic military considerations, particularly in the Arctic. Although these proposals were met with ridicule or rejection, they reflect an expansionist impulse more characteristic of 19th-century colonialism than 21st-century diplomacy.

Economic coercion was another prominent tool in Trump’s arsenal. His administration weaponized trade policy not only against adversaries like China but also against longstanding allies. The imposition of tariffs on Canadian aluminum and steel, threats to dismantle NAFTA (ultimately resulting in the USMCA), and punitive economic gestures—such as proposed tariffs on Denmark for refusing the Greenland offer—signaled a reconfiguration of economic relations into instruments of dominance. This brand of economic nationalism recalled historical patterns of economic imperialism, where trade policies were designed to subjugate weaker economies and extract favorable terms for the imperial center.

Trump’s disdain for multilateral alliances further destabilized the foundations of the post-WWII order. Nowhere was this clearer than in his approach to NATO. By demanding increased defense spending from member states while questioning the alliance’s relevance, Trump undermined one of the key pillars of transatlantic unity. His preference for bilateral deals over collective action, and his flirtations with authoritarian figures like Vladimir Putin and Kim Jong-un, eroded the moral and ideological underpinnings of U.S. leadership. This shift did not simply reflect a departure from past policy; it revealed an ideological realignment toward nationalism, unilateralism, and a form of realpolitik that prioritized power over principle.

Critics have argued that Trump’s erratic foreign policy lacked the coherence of a traditional imperial strategy. Indeed, his diplomatic oscillations—such as vacillating stances on China or impulsive summits with North Korea—suggest improvisation over design. From this perspective, Trump’s foreign policy was driven less by a vision of American empire than by personal grievances, electoral tactics, and a narrow reading of national interest. His reluctance to engage in large-scale military interventions, particularly in Syria and Afghanistan, further complicates the imperialism thesis. Unlike previous administrations that projected power through sustained military presence, Trump emphasized retrenchment, often invoking the need to end “endless wars.”

Yet, the absence of formal empire does not preclude imperialism. As many scholars have noted, American imperialism in the post-WWII era has often taken subtler forms—economic dependency, cultural dominance, and the imposition of political conditions through aid and diplomacy. Trump’s administration did not expand American military footprints substantially, but it intensified economic and ideological pressures on other states. This reflects a form of “soft imperialism,” where domination is maintained not through direct conquest but through economic leverage, strategic coercion, and cultural influence.

Historically, the United States has oscillated between isolationism and interventionism, between exceptionalist rhetoric and imperial practice. The post-WWII period, while framed as a golden age of liberal internationalism, was punctuated by military interventions in Vietnam, Latin America, and the Middle East—all aimed at sustaining a favorable global order and suppressing ideological threats, particularly communism. These interventions were justified through the language of democracy and security, but often served U.S. strategic and economic interests. The Cold War, in this sense, institutionalized American imperialism under the guise of containment and development.

Trump’s foreign policy, far from being an aberration, can thus be seen as a continuation—albeit in a cruder form—of this imperial legacy. His open embrace of nationalism, disdain for global governance, and preference for coercion over consensus stripped away the liberal veneer that had previously cloaked American hegemony. If past administrations pursued empire with subtlety and moral justification, Trump pursued it with bluntness and bravado. His presidency laid bare the power dynamics that had always underpinned the liberal international order, challenging allies and adversaries alike to confront a more unapologetic form of American dominance.

The implications for global order are profound. Trump’s unilateralism weakened multilateral institutions like the United Nations and the World Trade Organization. His administration’s refusal to condemn Russia’s actions in Ukraine at the UN, for example, signaled a rejection of the collective security mechanisms that had underpinned the postwar system. European allies, alarmed by Trump’s overtures to Putin and his attacks on NATO, began to reconsider their strategic dependencies on the U.S., leading to calls for greater European strategic autonomy. Meanwhile, middle powers such as India, Brazil, and Turkey explored new alignments, heralding a potential shift toward a multipolar world defined by competing spheres of influence.

Trump’s presidency also exposed a growing skepticism within the U.S. toward internationalism. His electoral success reflected a domestic backlash against globalization and elite-driven foreign policy. For many Americans, “America First” was not an imperial cry but a call to prioritize domestic revival over international obligations. This populist turn complicates the imperialism debate, as it suggests that the erosion of the liberal order may be as much a product of internal disillusionment as external ambition.

Nevertheless, the legacy of Trump’s foreign policy is unmistakable. By challenging the norms of post-WWII diplomacy, reviving expansionist rhetoric, and wielding economic tools as instruments of coercion, his administration reasserted a form of American imperialism that was more transparent, more assertive, and arguably more destabilizing. Whether this marks a permanent shift in U.S. foreign policy or a temporary aberration remains to be seen. But it is clear that Trump’s tenure has reawakened questions about power, sovereignty, and the limits of American leadership in a fragmented world.

As the global system grapples with the aftermath of Trump’s presidency, the U.S. faces a pivotal choice: whether to restore its commitment to multilateralism and collective security or to embrace a more nationalist, imperial mode of engagement. The answer will not only define America’s role in the world but also determine the future of the international order that has prevailed since 1945.

Author: Hina Majid

The author is a Master’s student enrolled in the International Relations program at the University of Sargodha.