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169 pages, Kindle Edition
Published June 2, 2025
So what has changed is not just that the costs of US global leadership are higher than expected. The imperatives that drove US strategic commitments in Europe and Asia in the twentieth century are far weaker today.
This is the tide that, with or without Trump, is sweeping America away from the old vision of US leadership and back towards some version of isolationism. Indeed, as we will see, this tide drove much of what the Biden administration did, even as they swam against it. But Trump is swimming with this tide, which means his radical transformation of America’s role is going to stick.
What happens when America steps back from the role which has defined the global order for over three decades? What new order emerges when US leadership is withdrawn, and what role does America play in it? These are critical questions for everyone, including for Australia. It is no use asking Donald Trump, of course. But the answer is clear nonetheless. Instead of a unipolar order dominated by one overwhelmingly powerful leading country, we will see a global multipolar order in which a number of “great powers” play more or less equal roles in shaping world affairs through a complex combination of competition, accommodation and cooperation.
This vision of global order feels very different from the unipolar model of the post–Cold War era, or from the bipolar order of the Cold War, but it is not unfamiliar. (...)
Trump has no such qualms. He likes the idea of cutting deals with powerful rivals in the ceaseless pursuit of advantage, and doesn’t mind that smaller, weaker players get done over in the process. That is his idea of fun.
From Europe to Asia, in the face of all the evidence, they have convinced themselves that America will always retain the strength and resolve to guarantee their security. Now, thanks to Trump, they are brought face to face with the need for long-overdue policy revolutions of their own. Nowhere is this more brutally true than in Europe, as the Europeans face the test of Ukraine.
It has been Ukraine’s fate to be the place where Washington’s illusions about America’s place in the world have collided most directly with the strategic realities of our age.
The Russo–Ukrainian War marks the end of America’s strategic leadership in Europe, and signals very plainly the transition from the US-led global order of the post–Cold War era to the new multipolar order.
The war is so significant in this transition because of what it shows about the relative power and resolve of the rival powers involved. Any international order is defined ultimately by the issues on which the strongest powers – the great powers – can convince one another they are willing to go to war with one another over. That is because an international order defines the diplomatic frame within which countries interact, and the boundaries of that frame are set by the points at which diplomacy gives way to war.
We can see how this worked in the past. The nineteenth-century multipolar Concert of Europe was defined by the clear willingness of all the European great powers to go to war to prevent any one of them becoming strong enough to dominate the rest. The bipolar Cold War order was defined by the clear willingness of both superpowers to go to war to prevent the other from upsetting the status quo by intruding into the other’s spheres of influence. The unipolar post–Cold War order has been defined ultimately by America’s presumed willingness to go to war to prevent any rival from contesting the US claim to be the world’s sole great power and establishing a sphere of influence from which it sought to exclude America.
This presumption has been tested in Ukraine and found to be false. That is what Moscow hoped and intended.
It is easy to see why the idea of a compromise peace was so repugnant. Surrendering Ukrainian territory to Russia would leave Ukrainian citizens at Moscow’s mercy, and of course there could be no guarantee that it would end there. A deal to end the fighting would allow Russia to recover, rebuild and return to the attack. Conceding any of Moscow’s diplomatic demands, such as keeping Ukraine out of NATO, would leave Ukraine forever under Russia’s thumb. It would also threaten the rest of Europe, because if Russia was not stopped in Ukraine, where would it be stopped? Above all, it would seriously weaken the US-led order around the world – including in Asia.
(...) The problem was that it proved impossible to be even remotely confident that a limited nuclear war would not swiftly escalate to a full-scale nuclear holocaust. In the 1980s Australia’s own scholar Des Ball made a major contribution to debunking the “limited war” illusion, and the arguments he developed still hold good today. So in the end America’s Cold War deterrent relied on convincing the Soviets that America really was ultimately willing to risk nuclear attack on US cities to defend Western Europe, which it successfully did. Likewise, today Washington could only deter nuclear attacks on Ukraine if it could convince Moscow that it was willing to risk nuclear attacks on America itself. And no one believed that it was.
This has profound and disturbing implications for the whole Ukraine conflict. It means that Ukraine, facing a nuclear-armed Russia and with no nuclear deterrent of its own, could never have achieved the victory it sought over Russia. If at any point Ukraine seemed poised for such a victory, Russia could have credibly threatened to use nuclear weapons to stop it, because Ukraine’s supporters had no credible way to deter Moscow from carrying out those threats.
Why cannot America deter Russia today in the way it deterred the Soviets in the Cold War? The difference is in the balance of resolve. (...) What was called at the time “the delicate balance of terror” in fact rested on a clearly understood balance of resolve. It was essential that each side believed the other side’s resolve was just as strong as its own, and that had to be demonstrated convincingly. (...) But perhaps equally important was what US leaders said. During the Cold War they spoke very frankly to the American people about the risks they had to face to contain the Soviet Union. At critical moments they explicitly declared that if necessary America would use nuclear weapons, and they acknowledged that America could suffer nuclear attack in return.
The most famous instance is the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962, but an even more telling example is the Berlin Crisis the previous year, when President Kennedy faced Soviet demands for the withdrawal of US and allied forces from West Berlin. At the height of the crisis, Kennedy delivered a televised national address in which he committed America to defend its position in West Berlin, acknowledged that this could lead to nuclear war, and instructed America to prepare to face a nuclear attack. The Kremlin backed down, US forces stayed in West Berlin, and the Berlin Wall went up instead. Kennedy’s explicit threat is a perfect example of a vital principle that is as true today as it was in the Cold War: that a nuclear power can be stopped, but only by an unambiguous demonstration of willingness to fight a nuclear war to stop it.
US leaders over the past twenty years have failed to prepare the American people for the costs and risks they would have to bear to defend US global leadership from the powerful challengers of today. Nor have they explained why Americans should bear those costs and risks. They have said that US global leadership must be defended, but have not made the case as to why that matters so much to Americans. And that is because, as we have seen, the case is not there to be made. America’s strategic stake in Europe is not now what it was in the Cold War, because today it has no reason to fear that a shift in the European balance could open the door to a Eurasian hegemon. The old Washington establishment might argue that America’s role as the bulwark of European security is vital to its claim to global leadership, but the truth is that global leadership is not vital to America’s own security when the alternative is not a hostile authoritarian hegemony but a diverse and a well-balanced global multipolarity. That is why, ultimately, America cannot defend Ukraine from Russia. That is the reality that Donald Trump, in his weird way, understands.
Europe will now have to defend itself, regardless of NATO.
It would be foolish to imagine that America would be any more willing to risk nuclear war with Russia to defend a member of NATO than it has been to defend Ukraine. What would matter to America if it faced that momentous choice is not whether a country was a NATO ally or not but whether its defence was vital to America’s security. In post–Cold War Europe, and after NATO’s thoughtless expansion, being a member of the alliance no longer guarantees that a country is vital to America’s security.
On the contrary, it is not clear today that any country in Europe is vital to America’s security, because Washington need no longer fear that by subjugating a defenceless Europe Russia might come to dominate Eurasia and threaten America itself. That is not just because Russia’s power in Eurasia would still be balanced by China and India. Even more to the point, Europe can defend itself from Russia. The EU’s combined GDP is as much as ten times Russia’s, and European NATO members have three times as many tanks and infantry fighting vehicles as Russia, and twice as many fighter aircraft. Europe today has the strategic weight to contain Russia without undue strain, so it makes no strategic sense for America to do it for them.
People complain that Donald Trump’s approach to alliances is transactional. But all alliances are transactional when the chips are down, when the costs are real and the risks potentially huge. Countries only ever make those choices to support another country’s security when their own vital interests demand it. If you doubt that, ask any Ukrainian. Or find an Australian who remembers the Fall of Singapore in 1942. We understand nothing about Australia’s alliance with America if we do not understand this.
There is always a price, of course, paid by the small and middle powers that get caught up in great-power rivalries, as Ukraine and Taiwan show. But it means that America does not have a truly vital interest in preventing China from replacing it as the leading power in East Asia and the Western Pacific.
(...) with trends going their way Chinese leaders may well decide that their best course is to sit back and wait for events to take their natural course. The way things are going, they won’t have to wait long. (...) In fact, the final nudge that brings the American era in Asia to a close may not come from China at all, but from Korea. When Obama handed over the Oval Office to Trump in 2017, he warned his successor that the most serious problem he would face was North Korea’s nuclear capability.
The first thing to be clear about is that China will be the strongest power in East Asia and the Western Pacific by a very long way. Its closest competitor will be India, but neither China nor India will be strong enough to compete effectively in the other’s backyard.
We will thus find ourselves not just in a multipolar world but in a multipolar Asia, divided between two great powers and with a number of influential middle powers too. This is the region in which Australia should be preparing to make its way. We should start by recognising that Asia’s future, and Australia’s, will not be decided in Washington. It will be decided in Asia.
As things get tough with Washington over the months and years ahead, there will be a temptation to try to placate Donald Trump and earn his favour by meeting his demands for increased defence spending, or by siding with America in its economic war by cutting links with China. There may be good reasons to increase defence spending, but trying to buy Trump’s favour is not one of them. Likewise, that futile goal would in no way offset the many powerful arguments against joining a US-led anti-China economic coalition. There are no favours we can do Donald Trump which will keep America strategically engaged in Asia and committed to Australia’s defence.
It is not Australia but America that is walking away from the commitments it made in the ANZUS Treaty in very different circumstances seventy-five years ago. That was plain enough under Joe Biden. It is crystal clear today under Trump. This is the lesson we must draw from Washington’s failure to defend Ukraine, from its crumbling position in Asia and from the American voters’ decisive rejection of the old idea of US global leadership to which we still cling. Our best path now is to recognise this and start acting accordingly. And we should move quickly to make this clear, because we need to begin right now to build that new post-alliance relationship with America, and we need to start reshaping our armed forces to defend Australia independently.
The place to start is with Taiwan. Through AUKUS and in countless other ways, successive Australian governments have encouraged Washington to believe that it can rely on Canberra’s total military support in a war with Beijing over Taiwan. But that is plainly not true. Coalition and Labor governments alike have wilfully avoided seriously considering whether they would send Australia to war with China when Washington calls. It is easy to see why: the question exposes with brutal clarity the fatal weakness of our strategic predicament today. It is unthinkable that Australia would join America in a war that America need not fight, that it cannot win and that would quite possibly become a nuclear war. But as long as we remain convinced that ANZUS is the only possible basis for our security, it is equally unthinkable that we would not join America in that war.
This is not a hypothetical question, because a combination of impatience in Beijing and muddle on Washington means the risk of a US–China war remains very real.
Today we plan to build the Navy’s largest-ever surface fleet, at a time when surface ships are becoming less and less useful in high-intensity maritime warfare because they are becoming so much more vulnerable to aircraft, missiles and submarines. We should be spending the money on those.