The age of institutions is ending, the age of force is back

Even invoking international law has become awkward. Institutions look increasingly irrelevant as political and economic processes unfold demonstrably outside them.

This reaction is understandable. The latest targets of actions that violate the UN Charter and other legal norms are leading Western states, the very countries that dominate the global information space. When similar violations affected others in the past, they were treated as regrettable but secondary. The blame was placed on the moral or political shortcomings of the countries involved, including the victims, rather than on a systemic crisis.

Now the system itself is visibly eroding.

The United States has not only discarded conventions; it has begun applying this approach to its own allies. These are partners with whom it once negotiated as equals, or at least as trusted dependents. Decisions are made as if by divine mandate. The result has been consternation in Western Europe and even accusations of betrayal.

Washington is dismantling the world order it once built and led, an order many already regarded as flawed. Since transatlantic ties formed the backbone of the liberal international system, revising them has become a priority for the United States.

After the Cold War, the balance of power was clear. The US and its allies exercised dominance, enforced a single set of rules, and extracted the political and economic "rent" that came with global leadership. But shifts in global power and structural problems in the capitalist system have reduced those benefits while increasing the costs of maintaining hegemony.

The Biden administration represented a final attempt to repair the old model. Its goal was to recreate an ideologically unified and politically invincible West capable of leading the rest of the world - through persuasion when possible, coercion when necessary. That effort failed.

The new slogan is "peace through strength," paired with "America First." This approach is now enshrined in key doctrinal documents, including the National Security Strategy and the National Defense Strategy. Power - not only military, but financial, technological and political - is placed at the center of policy. The only real constraint is America's own capacity.

If the previous era was described as a "rules-based order," the new one might be called a "precedent-based order." Actions create precedents, and those precedents justify further actions. However, these precedents apply primarily to the United States. Others may behave similarly only when it suits Washington's interests. The right of other states to act "the American way" is not rejected in principle, but it is tolerated only when they are strong enough and do not challenge US priorities.

This logic extends to allies, who now find themselves in an especially uncomfortable position. Under the previous system, they benefited greatly from American patronage. Chief among these benefits was the ability to minimize their own strategic spending by delegating responsibility to the United States. Washington encouraged this arrangement because it supported the functioning of the global order it led.

Today, what was once portrayed as mutually beneficial partnership is increasingly viewed in the US as an unprofitable subsidy. Washington wants to recover past costs and avoid future burdens. This abrupt shift has shocked its allies, but from a strictly material perspective, the reasoning is not irrational. Even a future change of administration is unlikely to reverse this basic reassessment of alliances.

Against this background, the Board of Peace solemnly announced in Davos can easily be dismissed as Donald Trump's personal ornament. Yet it is revealing. In a world defined by power, those who lack it must compensate by offering something to those who have it.

The most effective offering is financial tribute, hence the billion-dollar contributions. If that is too costly, enthusiastic displays of loyalty may suffice. Membership in such a body appears to function as a form of political insurance: protection from the chairman's displeasure.

For large, independent powers, participation is almost impossible. A structure in which rights are explicitly limited by the founder's will, and where procedures remain unclear, contradicts the very idea of sovereignty. Whether or not the Council works in practice is secondary. Its symbolic meaning is clear: recognition of the White House's supremacy.

The Trump administration understands that the world has changed and is searching for ways to preserve, or even expand, American advantages. Other major players in the emerging multipolar order must do the same, but in their own interests and according to their own logic.

If Washington openly advocates rational egoism grounded in power, others have little reason not to draw their own conclusions.

This article was first published byRussia in Global Affairs, translated and edited by the RT team

(RT.com)