At the beginning of Donald Trump’s first term in the White House, I argued that this would be no ordinary US presidency. The international order, already beset by fundamental weaknesses and disputes over its core values and institutions, was now facing a seismic shift.
With the beginning of Trump’s second term marked by even greater chaos, what once seemed like an isolated shock has evolved into a full-blown “systemic earthquake.” Trump’s inflammatory rhetoric, often unhinged executive orders, and despotic approach to the wars in Gaza and Ukraine have shaken the very foundations of the multilateral system, which took four centuries of wars and suffering – dating back to the Peace of Westphalia – to build.
Trump’s actions and pronouncements over the past two months suggest that we are entering an era of profound uncertainty in which crises can erupt and escalate at any moment. A single principle now seems to prevail: might is right. After all, at the heart of international law lies the principle of pacta sunt servanda: treaties must be honored. Yet within weeks of returning to the White House, Trump has violated, invalidated, or withdrawn from numerous agreements and commitments made by previous US administrations, including his own.
Trump’s broader foreign-policy objective appears to be to dismantle the global order established 80 years ago by a generation scarred by the horrors of World War II and usher in an era of neo-colonial competition. His threats to annex Greenland “one way or another,” reclaim control of the Panama Canal, and turn Canada into the 51st state – along with his portrayal of Gazans as little more than an obstacle to a real-estate deal – offer a stark glimpse of his neo-imperialist worldview.
Despite its oligarchic structure, the United Nations Security Council – dominated by its five permanent members (P5) and led by the United States – stands in the way of Trump’s quest for global dominance. Consequently, he has chosen to bypass it in favor of a P2 arrangement that revolves around the US and Russia and echoes Cold War-era US-Soviet bilateralism. He has also openly defied Security Council resolutions, along with a wide range of international conventions.
Trump’s America First agenda stands in stark contrast to the “humanity first” principle that underpinned the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, crafted in the aftermath of WWII to prevent a resurgence of fascism. That declaration, and the subsequent creation of the UN Human Rights Council (UNHRC), embodied the spirit of an international order that placed human dignity above geopolitics.
By rejecting this founding ideal, Trump risks transforming the Security Council into an instrument of brute force. If the four remaining permanent members were to adopt similarly nationalist postures, the result would be a dangerous scramble for dominance.
Similarly, Trump’s efforts to dismantle key UN agencies like the UNHRC, the Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA), UNESCO, and the World Health Organization are eroding the foundations of the international order. His destructive approach is not only undermining the UN system but also the Pax Americana that has long underpinned global stability.
Unlike the imperial systems that preceded it, the postwar US-led order rested on three pillars: US-dominated multilateral institutions, a global security architecture built around alliances like NATO, and an economic order based on free trade and the dollar’s status as the world’s main reserve currency.
By contrast, Trump’s vision of Pax Americana for the twenty-first century is one of unchecked, tech-driven totalitarianism. His bullying tactics – such as his repeated attempts to humiliate Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky – are part of a broader effort to shock and intimidate global leaders into accepting his nineteenth-century vision of the world.
This shift didn’t come out of nowhere. The US-led order has been fraying for years. Since the end of the Cold War, US foreign policy has been marked by strategic discontinuity, with each administration adopting wildly different doctrines. George H.W. Bush’s call for a “new world order” was followed by Bill Clinton’s humanitarian interventionism. The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, fueled George W. Bush’s neoconservative rationale for invading Afghanistan and Iraq. Barack Obama’s multilateral but often passive diplomacy, in turn, triggered the reactionary reflexes that defined Trump’s first term, just as Joe Biden’s inconsistent and largely ineffective foreign policy – particularly in Gaza – helped pave the way for Trump’s return.
Now, with Trump more emboldened than ever, we are witnessing the consequences of America’s strategic discontinuity: a neo-colonial order driven by Christian nationalism, empowered by advanced technologies, sustained by irrational impulses, and wrapped in brazen rhetoric.
In the spring of 2002, in a lecture at Princeton University, I noted the surge of extreme nationalism in post-9/11 America and warned that the US did not need a Caesar-like leader who seeks domination through military might. Instead, it needed a Marcus Aurelius – a philosopher-statesman capable of leading a complex global order with wisdom, restraint, and respect for international law.
For a while, I believed Obama could become such a leader. When he took office in 2009 and chose Turkey as his first overseas destination – followed by Iraq, Saudi Arabia, and Egypt – I felt a genuine sense of hope. Alas, I was wrong. But my own experiences as foreign minister and later prime minister of Turkey reinforced my belief in the possibility of balancing diplomacy and force in a way that serves the interests of all countries – not just those of great powers.
From Argentina to Turkey, countries around the world face the same fundamental choice confronting the US: Will we succumb to authoritarian Caesars who become more oppressive as their power grows, or will we choose leaders who, like Marcus Aurelius, seek to govern deliberatively? That is the defining question of our time, and we must answer it together.