The dispensable nation

“The cemeteries are full of indispensable people, and nations"

“The cemeteries are full of indispensable people.” In one form or another, this observation has been made many times over the last century or more.

What is true of people is true of nations. In the past 25 years or so it was often claimed (and , admittedly, often denied) that, in the modern world, the United States was the “indispensable nation”. Whatever the rights and wrong of this claim, it has become obvious that, whether we like it or not, the rest of the world will now have to dispense with the US as a defender of democracy, guarantor of global order, or even (as in Margaret Thatcher’s words about Gorbachev) a state we can do business with.

Anyone whose experience of the US began in the last ten days would have no trouble recognising an archetypal kleptocracy, like Putin’s Russia or Mobutu’s Zaire. The boss rakes off billions in tribute while his cronies scramble to please him, put each other down and collect their share of the loot. Regime supporters commit all sorts of crimes with impunity, while opponents are subject to both legal victimisation and threats of extra-legal terror against which they can expect no protection.

In dealing with such a regime, the only strategy is to buy off the boss, or a powerful underling, and hope that they stay bought long enough to deliver on their side of the bargain This approach is politely described as “transactional”, but without the implication that the transaction will necessarily be honoured. Dealing with kleptocrats can be highly profitable, as long as you get in and out quickly enough, but there’s no possibility of “doing business”, either commercial or political, in the ordinary sense of the word.

The problem is that for nearly everyone who matters, the last ten days seem like an aberration. For decades, the US has been seen as the central pillar of a “rules-based order”, on which assumptions about the world were largely based. That’as true even for critics who pointed out that the rules were drawn up to favor the US, and that the US often breached them without any real consequences. And it’s true even though you can point to precedents for everything Trump had done.

But all that is over, and can’t be restored. Trump has already withdrawn from, or effectively repudiated, a large set of international commitments (WHO, Paris, NAFTA) and will probably withdraw from NATO before long. He has threatened to levy punitive taxes on the incomes of companies from countries whose own tax or economic policies he dislikes.

Trump’s declared intention to acquire Greenland by force if necessary might seem like a joke. But it represents a break with international laws against aggressive war going back to the Nuremberg trials and before. Since 1945, aggressors like Putin have almost always pretended that they are engaged in “special military operations” with the objective of protecting minority populations, reversing supposedly illegal coups and so on. Even the German invasion of neutral Belgium in 1914 was framed as a demand for free passage of troops. By contrast, Trump has simply announced that he wants a piece of real state and will take it by whatever means necessary.

Even in the unlikely event of a free election returning a Democratic president in 2028, none of this can be undone, at least as long as the Republican party remains a serious contender for power. It doesn’t matter what (say) President Whitmer might promise if a junior Trump could come back four years later.

Where to now? In Europe, there’s a three-way division between those who welcome Trump and Musk, those who see the need for an independent policy, and those who want to persist with Atlanticism while they can. The third group, although well represented in the political class, are already among the walking dead. The Trumpists are doing well politically, but most are nowhere near getting the near-majority support seen for Trump. More importantly, they are likely to find out, like many before them, that loyalty is a one-way street with Trump. That leaves the advocates of independence, who know more or less where they would like to end up, but have no real idea how to get there.

The Australian political class is split between aspiring Trumpists like Dutton and the “eyes wide shut” camp, pretending that nothing has changed. In Penny Wong’s words “the alliance is stronger than ever”. That also seemed to be the hope of other Five Eyes[1] members. But Canada has already had a rude awakening with Trump announcing huge tariffs and not even bothering to issue ransom demands (the purported grievance is smuggling of fentanyl), and Elon Musk is busy trying to overthrow the Starmer government in the UK’ Australian politicians focused on AUKUS will sooner or later be getting the message “I am altering the deal, Pray I don't alter it any further"

I have some thoughts on possible responses, but I’ll let others have a say first, while I try to clarify my ideas.

fn1. The Five Eyes is the arrangement under which the UK, US, Canada, Australia and NZ spy agencies share intelligence, whatever the governments of the day might think about each other.

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