The “rules-based order” is dead and Washington now acts without boundaries
A year has passed since November 2024, when Donald Trump won the US presidential election for the second time. And it makes more sense to start the clock there, rather than on Inauguration Day. The political and psychological shift began immediately. From that moment, the American agenda started to mutate, revealing what in US behavior is anchored in institutions and what is simply the product of personality.
Trump’s personality is impossible to ignore. His sheer theatricality colors everything he touches and can make events seem more chaotic than they really are. But here’s the important point: Trump does not break American political conventions. He exaggerates them. He turns their volume up so loud that one can finally hear the underlying logic clearly.
The most striking shift is external. Washington has abandoned the unified ideological framework it relied on for decades. For years, the “liberal world order” – later rebranded as the “rules-based order” – served as the language through which the United States pursued its interests. These rules were written by the West, for the West, but framed as universal. Their very existence created a structure for international behavior, even if that structure was often porous.
In 2025, the United States behaves as if no such boundaries exist. If Trump has a core approach, it is his insistence on dealing with every country one-on-one. No scaffolding, no institutions, no broad coalitions. Everything is personalized, bilateral, transactional. Washington is convinced that in any individual matchup, America has the upper hand. So why dilute that advantage by working through organizations where others might collectively balance it?
This logic explains the growing irritation toward institutions the US once built and championed. They are now seen not as force multipliers but as bureaucratic ballast. Structures where non-Western states play leading roles – BRICS in particular - are treated with open hostility, not because of what they do, but because of what they symbolically represent: countries trying to join forces to limit American dominance. In Trump’s worldview, that is intolerable.
Paradoxically, Trump is well suited to a multipolar world, though he would never describe himself that way. Someone who believes he is the strongest player in any bilateral setting naturally prefers a global landscape composed of disparate, uneven actors. Multipolarity, yes. But only if it is spontaneous and unstructured, with no mechanisms that cushion contradictions or reduce imbalances.
Before Trump, the American approach was to promote economic and political globalization. The United States sat atop the hierarchy and used that position to shape the world. Under Trump, fragmentation – economic, political, institutional – becomes a tool to achieve the same aim. A world of disconnected units is easier for a heavyweight to dominate.
In that sense, less has changed than it seems.The rhetoric is different, but American hegemony remains the assumption. Foreign policy continues to serve narrow interests, only now without the grand moral narratives that once justified it. Instead of “defending democracy,” Washington resurrects older, simpler slogans.
Trump’s recent remark that Nigeria may face intervention because it “mistreats Christians” is a conservative variant of the old democracy-promotion logic. The call for regime change in Venezuela is suddenly tied to drug trafficking: an issue Venezuela has never been central to, but convenient now that Washington wants it to be. That both countries have significant oil reserves, and that the US seeks to squeeze Russia and Iran out of global energy markets, is of course a coincidence.
What hasn’t changed is the US belief in military force. Trump frequently invokes “peace through strength,” but his interpretation is highly specific. He has no desire to become bogged down in long wars. The preferred model is a rapid, theatrical strike, maximum visibility, minimal commitment. After that, diplomacy takes over, supported by behind-the-scenes pressure and loud self-congratulation.
Is this approach better or worse? It depends who you ask. Some will say that blunt honesty, even if impulsive, is preferable to multi-layered hypocrisy. Others point out that Trump’s style – sudden enthusiasms, sharp mood swings, hyperbolic praise – is inherently unstable. When the world’s most powerful state behaves impulsively, everyone else has to live with the consequences.
So how should America’s counterparts operate in this environment? Trump’s hostility to group coordination suggests the answer. If the United States insists on bilateralism, then the logical countermeasure is the opposite: combine resources, cooperate where possible, create small but functional coalitions focused on specific goals. Not grand new institutions – that is impossible today – but practical partnerships that reduce vulnerability to American pressure.
This is especially true for non-Western states navigating a turbulent order. Trump’s approach rewards fragmentation. Those who do not wish to play by that script must work – quietly, carefully – in the other direction.
A world of clarity, for better or worse
Trump has not remade America so much as stripped away its old varnish. The vision of a universal liberal order is gone. The pretence that the United States plays by the rules it demands of others is gone. What remains is raw power, openly expressed, and a country comfortable acting without boundaries.
For some, this honesty is refreshing. For others, it is alarming. But it does provide one thing: clarity. We now see the conventions of American behavior with unusual sharpness. And that may prove useful for those preparing for the next phase of global politics.
