As we step into the middle of January 2026, the world feels profoundly different from just a few years ago. The long era of unchallenged American dominance—the so-called unipolar moment that followed the end of the Cold War—has quietly come to an end. What we’re witnessing now is the return of intense great-power competition in a truly multipolar international system.
Around 2017, the structure of global power shifted decisively. China emerged as a near-peer to the United States in military and economic terms, while Russia reestablished itself as a formidable player on the world stage. No longer is there a single superpower calling all the shots. Instead, three major powers—the United States, China, and Russia—shape the security landscape, with the United States still holding the top spot but facing genuine rivals who can challenge its influence in key regions.
This multipolar reality has brought back the kind of security competition that defined much of modern history. In Europe, the conflict in Ukraine, which erupted back in 2014 and escalated dramatically in 2022, remains a brutal reminder of how quickly things can spiral when great powers clash over spheres of influence. Even if the active fighting pauses or freezes, the underlying tensions will linger, poisoning relations for generations. In Asia, the picture is equally volatile: Taiwan stands as the most obvious flashpoint, where deep national commitments on both sides make any miscalculation potentially catastrophic. But don’t overlook the South China Sea or the disputed islands in the East China Sea—those waters are already arenas of daily confrontation, where naval maneuvers and territorial claims could ignite something far larger by accident.
The foreign policy landscape under the current administration reflects this new reality. The old approach of trying to remake the world in one ideological image—spreading liberal democracy through endless interventions and forever wars—has largely been abandoned. That strategy proved disastrous, draining resources and eroding public support at home. What has replaced it is a sharper, more transactional focus on core national interests: prioritizing great-power competition over global nation-building. This isn’t isolationism or a retreat from the world stage. It’s a pragmatic adjustment to multipolarity, where the United States must concentrate on containing the primary peer competitor—China—while avoiding unnecessary entanglements that weaken its position.
One of the most glaring strategic mistakes of the past decade was pushing Russia closer to China. Western policies, particularly the relentless eastward expansion of security alliances, created a situation where Moscow had little choice but to deepen ties with Beijing. Today, that alignment is strong—military cooperation, economic interdependence, and shared interests against perceived Western pressure have cemented it. Reversing this would require ending the Ukraine conflict on terms acceptable to all sides and rebuilding a measure of trust with Moscow. It’s a classic divide-and-rule maneuver, reminiscent of past great-power diplomacy, but it’s proving extremely difficult. Deep-seated suspicion on all sides, combined with the temporary nature of any single administration, makes a meaningful wedge unlikely in the near term. For now, the Russia-China bloc remains a durable feature of the global order, one that complicates American strategy everywhere.
Europe faces perhaps the toughest adjustments. For eight decades, the continent relied on the American security umbrella to hold things together. As Washington pivots toward Asia and focuses on its own backyard, that umbrella is weakening. The result won’t be a unified, autonomous Europe stepping up as a new pole. Instead, expect more fractures: sovereign states pursuing their own paths, old rivalries resurfacing, and Russia exploiting divisions through energy, diplomacy, or hybrid means. The poisonous legacy of the Ukraine war will ensure hostile relations with Moscow for the foreseeable future, even in a frozen conflict scenario.
Beyond the great powers, middle states—think Brazil, India, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and others—are carving out space through hedging. They want the benefits of economic ties with everyone while avoiding full alignment with any single bloc. Security always trumps prosperity, though: when survival is at stake, countries will choose the side that best guarantees it. In Latin America, the Monroe Doctrine’s logic still holds firm—no meaningful alliances with extra-hemispheric rivals are tolerated. In Asia, hedging is widespread, but pressure from Beijing or Washington can quickly force choices. As China’s power projection grows—blue-water navy, influence in distant regions—the gravitational pull will intensify, reshaping how these middle powers maneuver.
Global institutions, built in a different era, are struggling under these pressures. The United Nations Security Council remains paralyzed by vetoes, trade bodies fragment, and the old post-1945 architecture shows its age. What’s emerging instead are rival bounded orders: one centered on the United States and its allies, another led by China through initiatives like the Belt and Road, BRICS, and the Shanghai Cooperation Organization. These aren’t universal frameworks; they’re tools for waging competition in a multipolar world.
Economic interdependence doesn’t magically prevent conflict—history shows high trade levels coexisted with world wars. Today, it creates vulnerabilities: supply chains for critical materials like rare earths give leverage to one side over the other, forcing painful decoupling efforts. The great powers are willing to absorb real economic pain to secure strategic independence, because survival always comes first.
In this environment, the risks of accidental escalation are high. Multipolar systems are complex, alliances fluid, and miscalculations common. East Asia’s flashpoints and Europe’s lingering crises—from the Arctic to the Black Sea—stand out as the most dangerous.
The bottom line is clear: the holiday from history is over. Great-power politics has returned, and it will define our era. Navigating it requires clear-eyed realism—focusing on power balances, national interests, and the tragic but enduring logic of competition. The world isn’t becoming safer or simpler; it’s becoming more contested, more unpredictable, and more in need of careful, strategic management.
That’s the reality we’re living in right now, in January 2026. Thanks for listening—stay sharp out there.
