Authored by Lorenzo Maria Pacini,

We often speak of the collective West, Hegemon, Seapower and Civilization of the Sea in relation to the United States of America. It is necessary to understand well what is the origin of this geopolitically determinant power for the world order.

He who wins the war, dictates the rules

Let us make clear at once an empirically incontrovertible factual truth: He who wins the war, dictates the rules of the post-war order. Whoever wins, writes history. Whether we like it or not, the defeated never had much decision-making power (which is not to say that they could not organize well to retaliate and return to power – but that is another matter).

World War II ended with the victory of the United States of America as the first, undefeated and predominant power. From there followed an expansion of U.S. influence toto orbe terrarum in all respects (cultural, economic, military, political).

The twentieth century was the “American century.” Almost the whole world took the shape the U.S. wanted to give it. The second half of the century was marked by the low-tension conflict of the Cold War, which ended-if it really did-with the collapse of the Soviet political system in the USSR and the beginning of the unipolar phase of American global domination. That period aroused much optimism in the West for a new world order, marking the end of the military and ideological rivalry of the 20th century. Two possibilities were on the horizon: a system based on balance of power and egalitarian sovereignty, or a U.S.-led liberal hegemony based on the values of democracy. The first approach evoked perpetual conflict, while the second promised lasting peace and global stability.

U.S. hegemony, already dominant in the transatlantic region after World War II, was seen as a model of peace and prosperity. However, the collapse of the Soviet Union removed the justification for a world order built on the balance of power, pushing the United States toward a mission of recognized hegemony to prevent the rise of new rivals. American supremacy, as declared by Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, was deemed “indispensable to ensure global stability.”

This was the Pax Americana: the U.S. would ensure a period of prosperity and global peace – as early as the end of WWII – by extending control over the entire world. A peace for America was equivalent to a peace for the globe; a war for America would mean war for the entire globe. The stated goal of building a peaceful world often justified imperialistic approaches, revealing the contradictions of the hegemonic project.

Set this paradigm as an axiom of reasoning in international relations and geopolitical programming, lo and behold, everything acquired new meaning. The world had been formatted and the “control room” was now in Washington.

The time of ideologies

It was the time of ideologies. In the “short century” everything had changed rapidly. The great world chessboard was constantly being shaken and reshuffled. The clash between the Western bloc and the Eastern – or Soviet – bloc characterized all concepts of each country’s politics in an extremely powerful way.

In the 1990s, two visions dominated the debate on world order: that of Francis Fukuyama and that of Samuel Huntington. Fukuyama in his famous book The End of History, envisioned a future in which liberal democracy and capitalism would triumph universally, leading to perpetual peace under the leadership of the United States: he argued that economic interdependence, democratic reforms, and shared institutions would unite the world around common values, which were, of course, American values. Any other model of civilization would have been beside the point, because History was finished, there would be nothing left to write about. In contrast, Huntington, wrote The Clash of Civilizations, in which he predicted that the world would be fragmented into distinct cultural blocs based on civil, religious and economic identities. Individualism and human rights, according to him, were peculiar to the West and not universal. His theorizing assumed a future marked by conflicts between civilizations, fueled by the decline of Western hegemony and the emergence of alternative powers, particularly in Confucian and Islamic societies.

The influence of Fukuyama’s ideas shaped post-Cold War Western politics, justifying the expansion and exceptionalism of Pax Americana. Exceptionalism that has been one of the U.S.’s most pragmatic “values”: there are rules and only we can break them, when we want, how we want and without having to account to anyone.

History, however, does not have only one actor: other countries, such as Russia, have chosen to be fascinated by Huntington’s proposal – confrontational, certainly, but not already “final.” In Russia, this debate has deep roots, linked to the historical rivalry between Westernists and Slavophiles. In the 1990s, Russia initially tried to move closer to the West, but the West’s failure to include it reinforced the idea of a distinct Russian civilization, culminating in Vladimir Putin’s view that no civilization can claim to be superior.

A matter of ideologies, indeed, a low-profile but very high-value battle in which the steps of the new century that was beginning would be defined. These divergences highlighted the tension between universalist aspirations and distinctive cultural identities, defining the geopolitical conflicts of the 21st century.

Building Pax Americana at any cost

Washington promoted a world order based on the Pax Americana, a liberal hegemony that reflected the success of the peaceful and prosperous transatlantic system created by the United States during the conflict with the Soviet Union. It proposed to extend this model globally, citing as examples Germany and Japan, transformed from militaristic and imperialist nations into “peaceful”-or, rather, defeated-democracies under U.S. influence. But the success of these transformations had been made possible by the presence of a common adversary, Russia, and the history of Latin America suggested that U.S. hegemony was not always synonymous with progress and peace.

Charles Krauthammer described the post-Cold War period as a “unipolar moment,” characterized by American dominance, where the new Hegemon dictated the rules and the others had little choice. Although he recognized that a multi-participant set-up (today we can say “multipolarism”) would inevitably return, he believed it was necessary to exploit unipolarity to ensure temporary peace, avoiding a return to turbulent periods. There was a weakness, however: the United States was unlikely to voluntarily relinquish its dominant role, preferring instead to counter any threat by force, fueled by an obsession with its own historical greatness. It is a missile issue: whoever has it bigger, wins. Let us not forget that the U.S. invented the strategic concept of deterrence precisely by virtue of the atomic weapon it held, throwing the world into a climate of constant fear and risk in which we still live today.

It is equally true that many Americans wished for a dismantling of the U.S. empire, proposing a less interventionist foreign policy focused on domestic challenges: abandoning the role of superpower would allow the United States to strengthen its society by addressing economic, industrial and social issues. Walter Lippmann argued that a mature great power should avoid global crusades, limiting the use of power to preserve internal stability and coherence. Sort of like a “good hegemon.” But this has not been the case.

The notion of “good hegemon” has been criticized for the risk of corruption inherent in power itself. John Quincy Adams warned that the search for enemies to fight could turn the United States from a champion of freedom into a global dictator. Similarly, President Kennedy, in his 1963 speech at American University, opposed a Pax Americana imposed by arms, calling instead for a genuine and inclusive peace that would promote global human progress, which he called “The Peace of All Time.” An ideal that has faded into the oblivion of collective memory.

American hegemony is the sine qua non for having a Pax Americana. The universalism that characterizes this hegemony admits of no discounts. Inequality among global powers has been exploited as a pivot to increase U.S. profits and administrative expansion at the expense of weaker countries. Neoliberally speaking, there is no error in this. Everything is very consistent. The struggle of the strongest to destroy all the smallest. Not only the one who produces and earns the most wins, but the one who can maintain the power to produce and earn the most wins.

A hegemonic system needs internal stability without which it cannot subsist. A kingdom divided in itself cannot function. This applies to economics as well as politics. It is essential that the ideological paradigm does not change, that power can always be understood and transmitted, from leader to leader, as it has been successfully established. Because the “peace” of the ancient Romans was a peace given by the maintenance of political control to the very ends of the empire, which only came about through a solid military administration.

The Americans did not invent anything. To really control (realpolitik) one must have military control. In front of an atomic bomb, reasoning about political philosophies is worth little. The U.S. knows this very well and its concept of Pax has always been unequivocally based on military supremacy and the maintenance of it.

Something changed when with the first decade of the 2000s new poles, new civilization-states, began to appear that promoted alternative models of global life. The U.S. began to see its power wane, day by day, until today, where the West is worth less than the “rest of the world,” the U.S. no longer has its “exclusive” status, and we are not even so sure that it is then so strong that it can control the globe. The geometries change again. What Pax for what borders of what empire?

Is Trump ready to give up his Pax?

The crux of the question is, if imperialistic military supremacy is what has allowed the U.S. to maintain its dominance and this dominance is precipitating today, will the newly elected U.S. President Donald Trump really be ready to compromise the Pax Americana?

We are talking about a polymorphous compromise:

Economically, he would have to accept the end of the dollar era and downsize the U.S. market on comparison with sovereign global currencies. Practically throw a century of global financial architecture in the trash.

Politically, accept that it is possible to think otherwise and do otherwise. Politics is not just American “democracy.” There are so many possibilities, so many different models, so many futures to be written according to other scripts.

Militarily, it means stopping with the diplomacy of arrogance and threats, accepting that we cannot arbitrarily decide how to deal with anyone and stop aiming missiles at the flags of other states.

Most complicated and risky of all, all this means giving up peace within the United States. If the balances of power implemented externally are broken, those internally begin to falter and the organism undergoes remodeling.

Giving up the Pax Americana as it has been known does not mean that alternatives do not exist. The concept of “pax” is broad and can be interpreted differently by the American school. Taking this step, however, involves giving up a “tradition” of global power, having to go through the collapse of the entire U.S. domestic system and then rebuilding an alternative.

Make America Great Again will mean what? Restoring American hegemony in the world, or rebuilding America?

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