Over the last several weeks, the Trump Administration has been clarifying its foreign policy stance, which, in short, is to cozy up to dictators, in particular Vladimir Putin. This is a significant departure from decades of US foreign policy. For the past three years, U.S. policies have been in place to isolate Russia over its invasion of Ukraine, but the Trump administration is now poised to make a deal with the Kremlin to end the war without Ukraine having much of a say.
Secretary of State Marco Rubio and National Security Advisor Mike Waltz held talks with Russian officials last week to begin to figure out a Russia-Ukraine peace deal. However, Ukrainian officials say they were not invited. Meanwhile, President Trump is beefing up his propaganda machine by falsely blaming Ukraine for starting the war three years ago.
In an interview with NPR, Anne Applebaum, a historian and writer for The Atlantic, said that for the past 80 years, U.S. foreign policy has been based on a network of alliances and institutions that allowed the country “to project power, to create zones of prosperity, to enjoy trade with like-minded partners.” Applebaum said that Trump is aligning with a power and a dictator that is a daily threat to Europe. In the interview, she states, “By doing that, Trump is saying, ‘I don’t care anymore about alliances. I’m not interested in your opinions. I’m going to do a deal with this dictator over your head,'” Applebaum said. “And that’s a message that is heard not just in every European capital but in every allied capital around the planet as a sign that the U.S. is changing.”
There has been much discussion about America’s decline from its status as a global superpower, a trend that seems to have accelerated under the new administration. However, the erosion of America’s influence has been unfolding for decades, driven in part by the deep ideological divisions embedded in the nation’s foundation. Trump’s policies and behavior have sparked outcries of “this is not who we are,” as if the country’s democratic image is only now being tarnished. Yet, perhaps America’s greatness has always been a myth. How can the U.S. be seen as the world’s defender of democracy when it has never guaranteed equal rights for all? Before claiming moral authority on a global scale, America must first confront and resolve its own systemic injustices.
America’s rise to greatness is a complicated story. Embedded in its history is innovation, struggle, and resilience, as well as genocide, exploitation, and an ongoing contradiction of ideals and reality. America has provided military aid, economic assistance, humanitarian relief, and diplomatic support to other nations facing war and crisis—perhaps as an attempt to uphold the democratic ideals outlined in its Constitution, which it has often struggled to fully implement at home.
The U.S.’s rise as a global player really began during World War I. The US entered the war in 1917 after years of supplying the Allies (Britain, France, and Russia) with weapons, food, and loans. Its fresh troops, resources, and industrial power helped tip the balance in favor of the Allies, leading to Germany’s surrender in 1918. The war fueled America’s industrial expansion, as U.S. factories supplied weapons, vehicles, and food to Europe. By the end of the war, the U.S. had replaced Britain as the world’s leading creditor and economic powerhouse.
The United States then solidified its dominance during World War II. Like in World War I, before even entering the war (1941), the U.S. supplied the Allies with billions in military aid. Once fully engaged, U.S. factories shifted to wartime production, outproducing all other nations combined. By 1945, America was the most industrially advanced nation on Earth, producing tanks, planes, and ships at an unprecedented scale.
WWII devastated Europe and Asia, but the U.S. emerged stronger than ever, with its industries and cities untouched. The Bretton Woods Conference (1944) established the U.S. dollar as the world’s reserve currency. The U.S. led the formation of the United Nations which shaped the post-war order. After WWII, the U.S. and the Soviet Union emerged as the dominant powers. America rebuilt Western Europe, strengthening its alliances and preventing the spread of communism. It founded NATO (1949), ensuring its military influence across the world. By the end of WWII, the U.S. was the world’s richest and most powerful nation, setting the stage for its dominance throughout the Cold War. The U.S. was the undisputed global leader, with a booming economy, military superiority, and control over global institutions (IMF, World Bank, United Nations). *It is worth noting that much of America’s economic dominance was largely derived from the cost of war.*
Global Capitalism Has Become Dependent on War
Throughout the Cold War, the United States positioned itself as a defender of human rights, frequently criticizing the Soviet Union for its oppressive regime. However, this stance was weakened by the reality of segregation and racial violence occurring within U.S. borders. Professor Derrick Bell, in his review Brown v. Board of Education and the Interest-Convergence Dilemma, explores the theory of “interest convergence.” He argues that the Supreme Court’s decision in Brown was not purely a moral or legal triumph but was strategically timed to align with U.S. geopolitical interests. The United States faced criticism from the Soviet Union over its racist policies. Desegregation, therefore, served as a means to improve America’s global image and counter Soviet propaganda, rather than being solely motivated by a commitment to racial justice. Below is a quote from this review:
I contend that the decision in Brown to break with the Court’s long-held position on these issues cannot be understood without some consideration of the decision’s value to whites, not simply those concerned about the immorality of racial inequality, but also those whites in policymaking positions able to see the economic and political advances at home and abroad that would follow abandonment of segregation. First, the decision helped to provide immediate credibility to America’s struggle with Communist countries to win the hearts and
BROWN v. BOARD OF EDUCATION AND THE
minds of emerging third world peoples. At least this argument was advanced by lawyers for both the NAACP and the federal government. And the point was not lost on the news media. Time magazine, for example, predicted that the international impact of Brown would be scarcely less important than its effect on the education of black children: “In many countries, where U.S. prestige and leadership have been damaged
by the fact of U.S. segregation, it will come as a timely reassertion of the basic American principle that ‘all men are created equal.”‘
INTEREST-CONVERGENCE DILEMMA
Derrick A. Bell, Jr. Harvard Law Review, 1980
Have you heard the story of Isaac Woodard?
The Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 1960s compelled the U.S. to confront some aspects of racial discrimination. However, countries in Africa and Asia, many of which were emerging from colonial rule, viewed America’s racial struggles as proof of its hypocrisy. Even today, the persistence of police brutality, voter suppression, and racial disparities continues to raise serious questions about the nation’s moral standing. As a result, nations skeptical of U.S. dominance frequently cite its domestic racial issues as a counterargument against its leadership in global affairs.
American foreign policy has often reflected racial biases, particularly in how it engages with different regions. Latin America and Africa have historically been treated as zones of exploitation or instability rather than as equal partners in diplomacy and economic development. Similarly, the Middle East has been a frequent target of military intervention and resource extraction, often justified through racialized narratives about terrorism and security threats.
America’s immigration policies have further exposed its racial biases, particularly in how it responds to global humanitarian crises. European refugees, such as those fleeing the war in Ukraine, have been welcomed with far greater enthusiasm than refugees from Haiti, Syria, or Central America. Anti-immigration rhetoric in political discourse often targets non-white migrants, reinforcing the reality that U.S. policies are rooted in racial hierarchy rather than universal human rights.
America’s racial struggles have become a tool for geopolitical rivals like China and Russia, who use these issues as propaganda to discredit U.S. leadership. For example, during the 2020 George Floyd protests, Chinese state media broadcasted images of police brutality to argue that the United States had no moral authority to lecture other nations on human rights. Such narratives erode America’s influence, particularly among nations that are already skeptical of Western intervention. To maintain its position as a dominant global power, America must reckon with its internal racial struggles. History has shown that nations failing to address systemic inequalities eventually face decline, as social divisions weaken their economic and political stability. The United States now stands at a critical juncture—either it commits to meaningful racial justice reforms or risks losing its influence on the world stage. The choice will determine whether America remains a global leader or fades into the background of history.
While Trump aligns himself with the forces of oppression, it is worth reconsidering the notion that his actions are “un-American” or contrary to democratic values. Instead, they may in fact reflect these values more accurately than many would like to admit. America’s legacy of racial injustice and exclusion has long been interwoven with its political and social structures. Before asserting itself as a global moral authority, the U.S. must first confront and rectify these enduring contradictions at home.
