America First is a contagious condition
HIGH-MINDED Americans fear that President Donald Trump will make a pariah of their country. Ask foreign governments about Trumpian statecraft and they offer an opposite concern. When other countries ponder the basic elements of an America First foreign policy—indifference to liberal values, scorn for global rules and norms, and a cold-eyed focus on the national interest—a surprising number of them worry: this is going to catch on.
The Telegram has just spent a week in Washington and New York. He found veteran envoys reeling after America voted with Russia against its European allies on a UN resolution about Ukraine. An Asian diplomat says that the international order faces “a moment of extreme danger”.
In her Senate confirmation hearing, Mr Trump’s nominee for UN ambassador, Elise Stefanik, signalled America’s desire to narrow that world body’s work back down to its “founding mission of international peace and security”. The same diplomats worry that an America First approach is contagious. European countries that once took a lead in funding peacekeeping missions and humanitarian programmes are telling partners that, with Mr Trump pulling support from Ukraine, and with their own voters turning against overseas aid, the priority is projects that advance their national interests. Britain has just diverted much of its aid budget to defence spending. The Netherlands government announced that: “From now on, Dutch interests will take precedence in our country’s development policy.” Trade, security and migration were cited as core Dutch concerns.
Envoys describe middle powers—countries like Brazil, Malaysia or South Africa—becoming much more active in proposing solutions to conflicts or global crises. Often, their approach eschews the moral certainties of old-school Western interventionism, preferring consensus-building and compromise. Some “muscular” new arrivals on the global centre-stage are ready to throw their weight around and advance a transactional, ultra-realist approach with no patience for liberal values. Turkey and Gulf Arab states such as the United Arab Emirates are cited as examples.
Within America, principled critics of Mr Trump’s diplomacy point to his administration’s chaotic cuts to overseas aid programmes and predict that lives will be lost, shredding American soft power built up over decades as the world’s largest humanitarian donor. To opponents, Mr Trump’s pitiless approach to peacemaking in Ukraine undermines America’s credibility as Europe’s security guarantor. Most simply, Mr Trump’s contempt for global agreements and multilateral bodies creates gaps that rivals can fill. When his government repudiates climate-change agreements, questions arms-control treaties or threatens to quit or defund various UN bodies, all eyes turn to China, the autocratic giant that believes its destiny is to lead a multipolar world order.
Mr Trump’s worldview has few defenders in the embassies and foreign missions of Washington and New York. A diplomat from a close ally calls his foreign-policy instincts “reptilian”. For all that, a striking number of governments share much of Mr Trump’s bleak analysis about the ways of the world. Some admit that America has earned surprisingly little soft power by donating tens of billions of dollars to such programmes as PEPFAR, a scheme to treat and prevent HIV, notably in Africa (see Middle East & Africa section). An African diplomat concedes that, in his continent, it is common for politicians to accuse Western donors of delivering finger-wagging lectures, while China is praised for offering loans to build roads. “Africans by and large do not consider aid to be a benign instrument. They consider that it sets up a power dynamic between giver and recipient.” Part of the explanation, says the diplomat, lies in self-interested behaviour by local elites. At election times, “politicians say: vote for me because this road was built. More than: vote for me because I worked with PEPFAR.”
Europe is stunned by Mr Trump’s bullying of Ukraine. Many middle powers see reality crushing the “pipe-dream” of continued Ukrainian defiance of Russia, its nuclear-armed neighbour. “As countries without the clout to wage wars, we know that these conflicts always end around a negotiating table,” says a diplomat from the global south. “The Ukrainians were playing with American chips and now the Americans have taken the chips off the table.”
Going back to a transactional, unstable world
Optimists talk of a multipolar world order that respects each country’s own values, in a welcome break from decades of Western meddling and bossiness. They describe groups of countries tackling climate change and other challenges, in coalitions of the willing and regional groups. Pessimists worry about a looming clash between rich and poor countries. There is much talk of giving developing countries a larger say in global institutions. But if poorer countries expect this to lead to huge transfers from the rich world, as reparations for colonialism or climate change, they are about to be disappointed. “If the debate centres on ‘show me the money’, we are setting ourselves up for failure,” worries the Asian diplomat. As Western donors walk away, they may not be replaced. An emissary from an emerging power recently asked a Chinese counterpart whether China would step up if America stops funding the UN. “Absolutely not,” came the reply.
In ten years the UN could be reduced to a skeleton, suggests Richard Gowan of the International Crisis Group, a Brussels-based conflict-prevention NGO. Technical agencies that oversee international standards or intellectual property may survive, as might stripped-down humanitarian agencies to help the neediest. The UN General Assembly could become an anti-Western talking-shop. “The old architecture is crumbling,” reckons a high-ranking diplomat. Mr Trump’s wrecking ball is speeding the collapse. ■
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