Bye, Bye Miss American Pie: six metrics to assess if the US is leaving the West

Some years before Russia illegally annexed Crimea in 2014, and first moved its forces into Ukraine, the Russian commentator, Dmitri Trenin, wrote a wakeup call for Foreign AffairsMagazine entitled “Russia Leaves The West”. Some may say: ‘why the surprise’ as Russia never joined the West in the first place, a view made easier by the wisdom of hindsight. Indeed, for a decade now, the stance of Russia towards the West has been one of unrelenting suspicion and often hostility. So implacable has this been that the temptation is to think that Russia has always been viscerally anti-Western in its values and outlook. Yet there was a time between 1990 and 2008 when Western policymakers were hopeful that Russia, albeit at times prickly and proud, would gradually integrate into the West, seeing the advantages of cooperation and openness as well as the costs of self-isolation and a return to autocratic rule. So, if Russia never wholeheartedly aligned with the West, it was at least present in the entrance hall. A country gradually modernising and democratising on the inside and cooperating with the United States and its allies on big global challenges like Afghanistan, the Iranian nuclear programme and the spread of Jihadist terrorism. All seemed to be going well until Putin turned up at the Munich Security Conference in February 2007 and delivered his shock speech denouncing the West for its hypocrisy, hubris and for riding roughshod over Moscow’s security interests. It has never been the same since.  

It is easier of course for great powers to believe that they can survive perfectly well all by themselves in the world than smaller countries. They can feel shackled by multilateral institutions and arrangements as much as they feel empowered by them; and then withdraw from these arrangements without worrying too much about the consequences, at least for themselves. “They need us more than we need them” is the rallying cry of isolationists, or “Me Firsters”, everywhere, as is the belief that international relations are a zero-sum game in which if you are not winning all the time, you must be losing. Retaliation then appears to be a legitimate way to right the wrongs or even take a deserved revenge on ungrateful partners. Ultimately, Russia’s brief honeymoon of cooperation with the West after the Cold War was a matter of choice for the Kremlin rather than necessity. It was also highly transactional, as Moscow was unwilling to cooperate for the sake of common values or interests, but only to obtain quid pro quos and concessions in its own perceived sphere of influence, particularly territory and the right to control its neighbours. It is here that the Russian view and the Western view of what cooperation was all about inevitably clashed. Russia was certainly not a founder member of the West but a latecomer to the notion of a Western community, and as the latter was not made in Moscow it was easier for Russia to turn its back on it. Russia could look back on previous periods of its history in the form of Tsarist empires, “new Russias” and expansion in Eastern Europe, the Caucasus and Central Asia as alternative destinies, to be revived even in the 21st century.  

But what about the other Cold War superpower, the United States? 

It has long been believed by liberal internationalists that the US would never willingly choose to go “back to the future”; it was the winner, not the loser from the end of the Cold War, and therefore (unlike Russia) not nostalgic for lost empires and status. Indeed, the Western order established after 1945 was an American creation, centred on its values and interests, and configured precisely to maintain its global power and influence. It was the work of a generation of far-sighted American diplomats who believed that the US best helped itself by helping others. This was true whether we look at NATO (which was designed to be much more than a military pact), the World Bank and the IMF, the defence treaties extending across Latin America and Asia and the founding of the United Nations where the US had a veto in the Security Council and dominated (at least for a while) the debates in the General Assembly and the work of the mushrooming UN agencies. This post-war order has survived remarkably well and has preserved the general peace for its participants. It has been more robust and durable than previous attempts to create orders of peace in the world, such as after the Congress of Vienna in 1814-15, the Treaty of Versailles in 1919 and the Kellogg-Briand Pact of 1928 that aimed to outlaw war altogether. Certainly the ‘Pax Americana’ imposed on the US a ‘stability and security tax’ in the form of US troops and bases being permanently deployed on allied territories across the globe and the US opening its giant continental economy to trade and investment from abroad, as well as millions of foreign workers seeking to build new lives in America. Yet this burden did not prevent the US from growing faster than the economies of most of its allies and becoming more prosperous, and it certainly helped the US when it was itself in danger and needed allies to participate in its wars in Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. Yes, there would be frictions from time to time, and the need to adjust the value of the dollar or to rectify trade imbalances by agreeing offset arrangements for goods and services, or to persuade allies like Germany and South Korea to pay more of the costs of stationing US troops on their territories; but the view prevailed in Washington that the Pax Americana was ultimately a win-win situation which enhanced American power, security and prosperity. More could be gained through cooperation and respect for common rules than from the purely transactional dealings and balance of power diplomacy that have traditionally governed relations between states. After all, a US economy representing 20% of the global total would always benefit from the support of allies representing a further 45% of the total, putting the US in pole position in virtually every international negotiation.  

Yet this view, enticingly comfortable for Europeans, overlooked the reality that the US had spent much of its young history (it will be 250 years old this year) as a totally different country and society. It had suffered long and bitter disputes between federalists and the advocates of sovereignty for the individual states, it fought a devastating civil war lasting four years and killing around 620,000 Americans. In 1823, the Monroe Doctrine was a warning to France, Britain and Spain to stay out of the hemisphere. The US annexed a number of territories (acquired from Mexico, Russia and France), or conquered outright, such as the Philippines, Puerto Rico, and Cuba. In the 19th century, it had its sights on British-run Canada and President Harry Truman tried to buy Greenland in 1946. The US also invaded Haiti on a number of occasions and occupied it for years, and as late as the 1980s invaded Panama and Grenada to depose unfriendly regimes. Admittedly, some of these territories were later vacated and became independent. At home, US society was long riven by racial segregation and hostility to minorities. Japanese Americans were interned during the Second World War. It was only from the 1960s onwards that civil rights and equal opportunities for black people, minorities and women became anchored in law, although the actual practice took considerably longer, as did the recognition of the rights of the LGBTQ+ community. The US refused to ratify the Covenant of the League of Nations in 1920 and passed a Neutrality Act in 1935. In the 1930s, the America First isolationist movements, led by figures such as Father Charles Coughlin, Charles Lindbergh and Senator Robert Taft, had a widespread following. The US intervened (decisively) in both World Wars only after it was the subject of aggression (by Germany in 1917 and Japan in 1941). It later invaded Iraq in 2003 without a clear casus belli or authorisation from the UN Security Council.  

None of this is intended to demonise the US or to deny its massive achievements as a country and a society. But we all have our history and that history has its dark sides that need to be acknowledged and dealt with. As with Russia, US history shows that nationalism, imperialism, a sense of “manifest destiny” or “exceptionalism” or isolationism have been frequent trends in political life and never far below the surface. Tranactionalism has been as much part of the American tradition as of any other state, and many Americans still see it as the natural state of affairs, and the Pax Americana as a temporary anomaly dictated by the particular circumstances of the end of the Second World War and the short-lived challenge of communism. It only takes a certain economic context, the revolt of those who feel marginalised and left behind and a gifted populist leader to bring the unilateralist instincts back to the surface. US history also underscores that it has taken consistent political leadership and persuasiveness since 1945 by successive US administrations and the Washington foreign policy establishment to keep the US on an internationalist and multilateral track. One that, to many Americans, is at best a diversion from taking care of problems at home; and at worst a form of bankrupting the country for the benefit of undeserving or ungrateful foreigners. In this context the past suddenly looks much better than it really was, and there is a belief that, unshackled from foreign commitments and putting its own immediate interests first, the magical American past can somehow be recreated. Given the undercurrents of nationalism and isolationism in American history, we should perhaps be glad that we were able to hang on to the Pax Americana for 80 years when it could have ended much earlier.  

The return of Donald Trump to the White House is more than just a rebalancing of the age-old American choice between multilateralism and unilateralism. What Trump is seeking is to return the US to its previous 19th century role, when it could secure objectives through power and pressure rather than negotiation. He wants to carry out a double revolution, within the US itself, and of the US-led international order. Admittedly he has been in power for just a couple of weeks and we cannot yet know where his presidency will end in four years’ time. But unlike his victory in 2016 (which came as much as a surprise to Trump as to everyone else), this time round he has had four years out of power to prepare and plan. He has surrounded himself with the true believers (or those who now claim to be) whose main merit for office is fealty and subservience rather than loyalty (which is a positive quality allowing for speaking truth to power). Republican think tanks like the Heritage Foundation or the American Enterprise Institute have had four years to work on policy blueprints for the second Trump administration, such as the much-discussed Project 2025. It was unsurprising that Trump was able to sign dozens of Executive Orders during his first day in office as these had been carefully prepared in advance. Back in 2016, Trump campaigned largely on the slogan of “Make America Great Again” (MAGA). It was never clear why America was not already great, or what it means precisely for a nation to be judged great or not, and how being great helps a nation to achieve this or that objective -whether societal or on the world stage. Yet this time round Trump has had the time to formulate and communicate a large number of policy priorities and choose the people he can rely on to implement them (rather than frustrate him as during his first term). Trump himself has also changed. He used to be a social libertarian recognising the right to abortion and the rights of the LGBTQ+ community to diversity and inclusion. But on these social and cultural issues, his views have become far less tolerant and in line with fundamentalist beliefs. He now calls LGBTQ+ rights “Marxist”. So, Americans knew what they were voting for, even if to the average voter inevitably some of Trump’s numerous campaign promises were more important than others. Like it or not, Trump won a solid electoral victory even if it was not a landslide. This included a majority of the popular vote. As an unashamed autocrat, Trump was elected freely by over 75mn Americans who had plenty of time to get to know his character, his suitability for office and his fidelity to the US Constitution. He did not gain power by the back door in a political stitch up, like Adolf Hitler in 1933, or a Black Shirt March on Rome, like Mussolini in 1922, or fraudulent elections, like Putin or Lukashenko (and so many other autocrats in the process). So, this is not a coup d’etat but the democratic expression of the majority of US voters. It is this which gives Trump’s revolution its strength and durability – likely well beyond the presidency of Trump himself. This said, revolutions 

require charismatic, driven personalities to lead them and can easily fizzle out when the all-powerful leader departs the scene, leaving his successors to fight among themselves for the heritage. So although it may sound unreasonable or even foolhardy to say where Trump is taking America after just a few days in office, and even before many of his cabinet appointments have been confirmed by the Senate, the fact that Trump seems determined to stick to his campaign promises, even the more radical ones, allows us to discern the core consequences and results of his programme of government. What are the early indications that the US is becoming less of a “Western” country and standard bearer?   

There are six benchmarks or metrics that can be used to judge how far the US is now distancing itself from the traditional concept of a Western country?  

1. Is the US becoming an illiberal democracy?

It is not for nothing that in his parting speeches, former president Joe Biden warned Americans about the dangers to US democracy from the new “tech industrial complex” which has moved into the White House along with Trump. The sight of so many billionaires, who bankrolled his election campaign, sitting with his family at the inauguration a few days ago was telling. Some were already in the MAGA camp before the election, such as Elon Musk, who has increasingly espoused far-right messaging and causes, and put his platform X at the service of Trump’s campaign. But others like Mark Zuckerberg of Meta or Jeff Bezos of Amazon have rushed to pledge fealty and bring themselves into line. Zuckerberg announced that he was giving up fact checking and moving Meta from liberal California to more Republican Texas. It is all in the name of free speech, but this type of social media deregulation will inevitably make the internet even more the domain of extremism, hate speech, disinformation and conspiracy theories than it is already. It will also enhance the ability of foreign powers like Russia and China to interfere in US politics by feeding propaganda into US platforms. The Biden State Department worked hard to take Russian state propaganda sites off of Facebook. How quickly will they be back on?  

As we have seen from illiberal democracies like Hungary, a first step in suppressing political pluralism is to corrupt the information space to encourage anger and protest and make rational fact-based argument well-nigh impossible. Opinion becomes truth and history can be constantly rewritten. Thus, the 1,500 individuals prosecuted by the US justice system for storming the Capitol on 6 January 2021 in an attempt to prevent the legitimate US President from taking office were called “hostages”, bravely trying to stop the election from being “stolen”. The responsibility for the violence was laid at the door of the police or Nancy Pelosi, the then-House Speaker, for not taking adequate steps to secure the Capitol building. The findings of a bipartisan congressional committee which spent months investigating the January 6 insurrection were dismissed and its members threatened with prosecution. The 1,500 indicted rioters were pardoned and their crimes expunged as if the events didn’t actually happen. Trump even invited some of the Proud Boy ringleaders to the White House and suggested that they might have a future role in US politics. In this way, history is being rewritten to claim that Trump really did win in 2020 as the evidence to the contrary progressively disappears or is criminalised. The traditional media is mocked and treated as the “enemy of the people”. It begins to self-censor to avoid problems from the government. Interviews become deferential with barely a tough question being posed. And speaking out, as a female bishop did at a service in the presence of Trump at the National Cathedral in Washington last week, draws a stream of social media vitriol upon one’s head. Stripping away the authority and respect for public institutions (the law, the church or the media) is another step on the way to an illiberal democracy; as is firing large numbers of civil servants whose loyalty is questioned but who are long-serving professionals with experience and subject matter expertise. The same naturally applies to Justice Department lawyers involved in past investigations into Trump’s business dealings or attempts to overturn the 2020 election result.  

A further sign of an illiberal democracy is the over-concentration of power in the hands of one person. Trump certainly claimed enormous powers for the presidency during his first term; but he was checked by Congress, the courts and the states. This time, he has immunity from the Supreme Court and an almost-compliant Congress, at least until the midterm elections in November 2026. As his courtiers compete for access or influence, few will dare to challenge him. We see this in the near-unanimous Republican votes to confirm Trump picks for cabinet posts of individuals whose compromised pasts or lack of experience would have certainly eliminated them from the running in more normal times. A culture of obsequiousness encourages a culture of bullying. We had a good example of this when Trump addressed the World Economic Forum in Davos. The CEO of Bank of America, Brian Moynihan, was on the stage and visibly embarrassed when Trump accused him of not lending enough to Republican-controlled authorities. Moynihan tried to make a joke out of it and made some appeasing remarks, but Trump clearly enjoyed this act of intimidation, suggesting that he would come after Moynihan and the bank if they didn’t fall into line.  

 2. Is the US seeking territorial expansion or regional hegemony? 

Trump’s stated wish to acquire Greenland may have seemed a joke when he mentioned it during his first term. As the sovereign territory of Denmark, it is not for sale. Moreover, the Greenlanders, who may vote for independence, show no sign (yet) of wanting to join the US. According to the latest poll by the Danish newspaper, Berlingske, 85% of Greenlanders do not want to join the US and only 6% are in favour. A majority want to retain their Danish citizenship (55%). In any case, the US already has a military base there which could easily be expanded. Trump may be staking out an outlandish idea to start a debate which may convince his interlocutors to make concessions- in this case, military bases and drilling and mining permits to access Greenland’s vast natural resources – in order to avoid the worst. Yet Trump keeps returning to the theme of wanting to acquire all of Greenland for the US and, according to the Financial Times, he had a very undiplomatic call on the subject recently with the Danish Prime Minister, Mette Frederiksen. The Danes have subsequently lobbied for support from their EU partners and announced a package of US$2.1bn to beef up security in Greenland and the Arctic. They cannot understand why they, as loyal allies of the US and who have financed and built the military infrastructure on Greenland over the years that the Pentagon has requested, are being singled out for this form of treatment. The Chairman of the EU Military Committee, Robert Brieger, has proposed an EU military force on Greenland. It seems incredible with all the challenges that NATO is currently facing that precious military forces and budgets need to be diverted to Greenland. Essentially to deter an ally rather than an adversary. And that one ally is questioning the legitimacy of the sovereignty of another ally over its own internationally recognised territory. As well as encouraging the local population of Greenland to rise up against Denmark on the assumption that they all would really prefer to be Americans (although opinion polls show only 6% of Greenlanders wish to do so). This kind of approach is bound to undermine NATO’s stated commitment to international law and encourage other major powers to challenge the sovereignty of their neighbours too. After all, Putin claimed that the inhabitants of Crimea all wanted to be Russians. Of course, Trump may be bringing Greenland into the debate because he sees the need for a larger allied presence in the Arctic given the greater activity of Russia and China. The Secretary General of NATO, Mark Rutte, has said that the alliance needs to focus more on its defence posture in the High North. But is sowing divisions among allies the best way to achieve a united approach?  

Trump’s revival of the Monroe Doctrine of 1823 can be seen too in his pressure on Panama to hand back to the US full ownership of the Panama Canal, although Panama has not denied the US access and most of the ships using the canal are transporting goods to and from the US. Problems with fees and shipping volumes are the result of low water levels and climate change, not Chinese investments or hostility from Panama. In 1977, the US government transferred the canal to Panama in an international treaty with a 20 year transition period. Disliking a treaty is not a reason to rip it up. So again it is an issue of respect for international law. Major powers cannot impose changes unilaterally or apply unreasonable pressure on other countries without negotiation or a willingness to address specific issues of contention constructively.  

3. Are Allies now less important than adversaries? 

The basis of alliances is that allies not only support each other but give each other preferential treatment. Of course, there will be disputes and bilateral issues from time to time; but allied commitments and shared values mean that these are solved quietly and not exaggerated for political effect. Above all, allies shouldn’t seek to humiliate each other. Yet we have just witnessed Trump humiliate Colombia, one of its closest allies in Latin America, and a country that has long cooperated with Washington on countering narcotics and accepting large numbers of refugees from neighbouring Venezuela, a declared adversary of the US. It may have been unwise for the Colombian President, Gustavo Petro, to turn back two US military flights with illegal migrants onboard, particularly during Trump’s first days in office when the new President was so keen to demonstrate his toughness on migration. But the issue of handcuffing the deported migrants or using military flights could have been settled quietly. Instead, Trump chose to make an example out of Colombia. He slapped a 25% immediate tariff on Bogota, threatened to raise it to 50% within a week, and placed travel and visa restrictions on Colombian officials. Colombia, which exports coffee and flowers to the US in large quantities, was faced with an immediate GDP loss of 1%. Petro caved in the next day and allowed the flights but then the White House boasted about its victory and openly described the incident as a demonstration of unbridled American power. Unsurprisingly, the Latin American countries, so important to the US when it comes to dealing with migration, crime and narcotics, have convened a summit this week to discuss how they can deal with the new administration. Cuba and Venezuela see opportunities to fan anti-Americanism in the region. The patient efforts of the Biden administration to nurture better relations with Latin America, organising summits at the White House, can easily be undermined.  

If alliances and special relationships are taken out of the picture, countries-whether friends and allies of the US or adversaries – are treated purely on their merits. As individual countries that can be helpful or a hindrance to Washington according to the issue at hand; but which do not need to be cultivated in order to build longer term relationships or helped to become more democratic or stable. Everything is case by case and the political mood can change quickly according to the issue at hand, and according to whether Washington wants to pursue a strategy of charm or pressure.  

On the other hand, we have not seen Trump so far tighten the screws on China. No imposition of tariffs there yet and even discussions with Beijing regarding the sale of TikTok to an American company. Trump seems to perceive that a trade war with the world’s number two economy would be bad for US business and unpopular with MAGA supporters who like cheap Chinese goods and services (most recently the new Chinese Deep Seek AI chat box app). The threat of tariffs has been directed at the two immediate neighbours and trading partners of the US: Canada and Mexico despite the fact that the US economy depends on Mexican auto parts and on Canadian oil and lumber.  

4. Is unilateral economic advantage the new currency of international relations? 

Trump’s view of the world is very much the grocer’s balance sheet of profit and loss. The public goods that the US has provided the world in terms of security protection, an open trading system and providing 42% of global aid are things that the new President can support only if they benefit the US directly. It’s not what we can do for you but what you must do for us. Hence, US foreign aid which supports food supplies, health and education programmes around the world have been frozen for three months while the State Department determines if they are in line with American interests. But what are American interests if not to fund good humanitarian causes? Charity or solidarity do not seem to come into play here. Trump wants to monetise US international public goods so that recipients have to pay for them. This has been evident in language that he has frequently used calling on US NATO allies to pay their “dues to the US” as if the alliance is a bodyguard contract where the US interest in defending Europe is mainly financial gain rather than enhancing its own security. The President has even suggested that if the allies increase their defence budgets to 5% of GDP (much of which would be spent on buying American weapons), the US could spend virtually nothing on NATO. Moreover, the President sees trade deficits as a sign that the US is being cheated by its trading partners. Yet an open trading system cannot work if the money always flows in one direction only and one country uses it only for its unilateral advantage. It is not a zero-sum game but a matter of winners and losers. For instance, the US has a goods surplus with the UK and a services surplus with the EU. A trade deficit can be the indication that a country is benefiting from cheap goods and energy, which helps the poorest members of society and controls inflation. Yet in his remarks to the World Economic Forum Trump called on companies across the globe to relocate to the US and produce their products and services there, promising low corporate taxes if they do and swingeing tariffs and taxes if they do not. But if the US tries to make itself more prosperous through protectionism and trade wars, the result will inevitably be that the rest of the world will become poorer. That will result in less demand for US goods and services, or the constitution of new regional trade blocs, like the BRICS, keeping the US out and in the cold. The US will then see declining growth and less of the innovation and market flexibility that comes from a sensible migration policy. This was exactly the philosophy that the Marshall Plan for Europe after World War Two was designed to counter.  

5. Will more diktat also mean less engagement?

The paradox of the Trump approach to foreign relations is that the US is asking more of its friends and allies, even to give up their territories and canals, while offering less. Stopping foreign aid, seeking a quick and easy exit from the war in Ukraine while reducing support for Kyiv, and suggesting it will do less in NATO while wanting Europeans to nearly triple their defence expenditure and insisting that Mexico take more migrants while slapping a 25% tariff on Mexican exports to the US. For a while, the US allies will probably grin and bear this treatment in the hope that Trump will run out of steam and come round to a more traditional US foreign policy. Already, Secretary of State, Marco Rubio, has requested carveouts from the ban on US foreign aid so that certain vital humanitarian programmes can be continued. They are waiting to see what pressures will build up from the inside the administration, Congress, the US business community, Wall Street and the national security policy nexus for Trump to engage more constructively with America’s overseas partners. A crisis (for instance over Taiwan or the Philippines or between North and South Korea, or in the Middle East or with Russia launching another aggression in its neighbourhood) could make Trump appreciate the value of allies for both crisis diplomacy and military action and reach out to them. There is nothing like a good crisis to impose a salutary reality check as Washington came to realise after 9/11 when it eventually needed support in Afghanistan and Iraq as well as stepped up cooperation on terrorism. Equally, the organisation of the non-Western world into trading and security blocs, unhooking from the US dollar and divesting their assets from the US to protect themselves against US extraterritorial sanctions, could also force a reappraisal. Ultimately, the Trump administration could become more preoccupied with fighting domestic culture wars and rewiring the country to entrench Republican power and extreme conservative values and social norms. Already he is moving to reshape the US public administration around Republican principles and political interests in a way that recalls how authoritarian regimes merge political party and state apparatus. Trump styles himself as a peacemaker but prefers to avoid wars rather than have to end them, let alone start them. So tranquillity on the international scene (as he largely enjoyed during his first term) is in his basic interest. That objective is best served by America upholding its alliances in Europe and Asia. Yet a policy of demanding more and providing less will only work for a short period. Sooner or later the allies of the US will start to look for ways to reduce their dependence on the US and seek new partners for security and trade. As well as strengthen international organisations like the UN. US tariffs will be met by counter tariffs.  

 6. Is it all about short-term solutions for long-term problems?

Finally, Trump is very much a man of the immediate. He speaks of immediate problems and wants immediate results. He employs the draconian measures of a politician in a hurry to demonstrate that he is keeping his word and having an impact. Policy is designed for public communication and to convey an image of decisiveness more than to tackle the long-term challenges the US is facing. Drilling for more oil and gas and removing environmental and clean energy and air stipulations may bring inflation down by a peg or two (for a while). But the homes of millions of Americans, unable to get fire, flooding or hurricane insurance, will be at risk, as will public health, transport and infrastructure and economic activity from rising temperatures, sea levels and climate change. If all the Biden initiatives on green energy and carbon neutrality are reversed, precious years used to stay close to the Paris target of 1.5% of global warming will be wasted. America will start from a much worse position, with fewer and more expensive and radical options, when it is forced to confront climate change once more at a future date. The same can be said of pandemic control. Stopping preparedness for the next pandemic, allowing anti-vaccine disinformation to spread online in the name of freedom, stopping vaccination drives for children, cutting federal funding for health research, putting the burden on the states and reducing the role of the federal government and the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAD) to lead, and allowing the big pharmaceutical companies to rule and impose their prices unconstrained may be popular with the Trump base; but it could leave the US population seriously vulnerable to the next pandemic. Similarly, letting criminals out of jail on grounds of ideological sympathy probably will not be good for reducing future crime statistics as these empowered individuals will hardly be tempted to return to the straight and narrow.  

Trump is not the sort of political leader to deliver a reflective speech on the future of the United Nations, the improvement of the US primary education system or the European security architecture after the war in Ukraine. Rallies and meandering press conferences in the style of “shock and awe” are his stock in trade. Yet the future of the West depends on governments that do not just manage day-to-day events but plan ahead for the longer term. As Edmund Burke famously put it in the 18th century: “the public interest requires doing today those things that men of intelligence and goodwill would wish, five or ten years hence, had been done”. 

Will Trump’s revolution be deep-seated and long-lasting? Will the US remain at the centre of the West, move to the periphery or remove itself from the Western community of democracies and shared values entirely? And if so, is it likely that a future administration could and would undo all these estrangements and bring the US back into the fold? How long should the EU and the other democracies follow a “wait and see” strategy, and try to placate the President as best they can, before they debate how they can best protect themselves from a disengaging America and maintain the West as a core concept and axis of the international order? Doing this without the US will be a tall order and strike many convinced Atlanticists as impossible. But life is less about our hopes and preferences and alas more about our predicaments and choices. And it is the questions that we least like to face that demand the most urgent answers. For the time being, Europeans will need to keep a close eye on the six metrics of US involvement (or otherwise) in the West that have been described above. And be able to decide when to move from anxious observation to resolute action. Undoubtedly European unity will be put to the test as never before. All the more reason to analyse these questions in subsequent articles. 

The views expressed in this #CriticalThinking article reflect those of the author(s) and not of Friends of Europe.