Dominion: Trump’s new grand strategy?

With Donald Trump only days away from being sworn into what will likely be the most “imperial” of US presidencies since Franklin D. Roosevelt’s, the geopolitical environment is rich with positive opportunities waiting to be realised – as well as risks. As it is becoming almost a habit, he comes into office on the heels of yet another Democratic administration whose foreign policy has been a train wreck from one end to the other, and that he must fix.

Before Trump’s first term of office, Obama had presided over the Libya war (including Benghazi), the Arab Spring (including the onset of Syria’s civil war), Putin’s Crimea grab, the rise of ISIS, the rise of China, and the catastrophic Iran Deal (i.e. the JCPOA). 

Then Trump defeated ISIS, strengthened NATO, started to arm Ukraine, turned the screws back on Iran, put Israel and the Arabs on track to peace (the Abraham Accords), and reoriented US power – as well as allies – towards confronting China seriously, for the first time. 

After that, on Biden’s watch, things went badly wrong again. America got humiliated in Afghanistan, Ukraine was invaded by Russia, Israel was attacked by Hamas and Iran, the Houthi rebels brazenly blocked most shipping in the Red Sea, Sub-Saharan Africa was lost to the Russians and the Chinese, an Al-Qaeda graduate warlord took over Syria with Turkish help, and China grew stronger and more aggressive around Taiwan and beyond. 

Now, a second time, Trump must come in and clean up a failed Democratic president’s mess. The problem-set is clear enough, from the specific and immediate security challenges in Europe, Middle East and the Western Pacific, to the broader geo-economic and geo-political trends pressing on the creaking old world order. But what are Trump’s options and what might be his grand strategy agenda over the next four years? With everyone’s attention riveted on the ongoing crises in different areas of the globe, the truly big picture often slips from view.

In short, America’s new imperator has four types of choices in foreign affairs: détente, rollback, restraint, or dominion. The first two broadly correspond to the paths pursued by Nixon and Reagan; the third would conform to the “multipolarist” vision of so-called post-liberal “realists”; and the fourth would be a new departure. As always, none of these options are clear-cut, and in practice things always mix and cross over category definitions. But any effective policy must have a distinct and deliberate underlying strategic intent.

The context

The global strategic conditions of today are very different from those at the start of Trump’s first term. His 2017 National Security Strategy, expertly led by Nadia Schadlow, was a landmark document in that it recognised the return of great power competition in world affairs and the definitive end of the Fukuyama paradigm and America’s unipolar moment. 

The task for the 45th president’s national security team, from 2017 onwards, was to dust off the hard power playbook from the Cold War era and gear America up for long-term competition, particularly against China. This was largely achieved, but the environment was more permissive in 2017-2020, the threat less acute. 

Now, Trump 47 finds Russia transformed into an armed camp, with a much bigger and by now extremely experienced military machine; a China whose navy has since surpassed America’s in size, and which has made vast progress in military technology; an Iran even closer to nuclear break-out; and, beyond all this, a BRICS bloc that has grown from the original five members in January 2021, to ten at present – with Saudi Arabia also looking to join. Meanwhile, the Europeans have used the past four years to further de-industrialise their economies, stifle innovation, weaken their defences through transfers to Ukraine, and accelerate their socio-political disintegration through “progressive” policies like immigration and anti-free speech regulation.

The détente option

In these conditions, Donald Trump’s first grand-strategic option, as he resumes his duties as Commander in Chief, could be to reach for a détente process. As explained previously in these pages, the real purpose of détente – rather than the “appeasement” caricature drawn up by its critics, even back to Kissinger’s days – is “managed peaceful coexistence, not friendship”. The idea is to negotiate a reduction in tensions, from a position of strength, with a view to stabilising relations with adversaries and reducing the risk of war. 

Nixon and Kissinger engaged in détente with the Soviets upon taking office, at a time when America was in a very difficult situation: pressed between the cultural and political domestic upheaval driven by the “1968 Generation”, an unpopular and failing war in Vietnam, and a difficult economic position – all while the USSR was riding high economically and geopolitically. Détente offered the US a respite and, in the longer run, allowed it to regain momentum against the Soviets during Reagan’s time.

The specific issues at play today, and the nature of some of the challenges, may be different than in the 1970s, but the general picture is rather similar: the United States and its alliance system is under heavy military-economic pressure from its adversaries led by China, while the risk of catastrophic great power war – especially over Ukraine, but over Taiwan as well – is already at critical or near-critical levels. A strategy of reducing tensions (literally, détente) could be seen to fit the present situation, particularly in view of the need to bring the Ukraine war to an end.

Rollback

Instead of détente, many in Trump’s team – especially his more “traditional” picks for key foreign policy and national security roles – would likely be inclined to advise the opposite course of action: an uncompromising, Reagan-style strategy of aggressively confronting and rolling back Russian and Chinese power from all key regions where they’ve been making inroads. 

One inspiration could be Reagan’s 1983 National Security Decision Directive 75 which unambiguously tasked the US Government “to contain and over time reverse Soviet expansionism by competing effectively on a sustained basis with the Soviet Union in all international arenas—particularly in the overall military balance and in geographical regions of priority concern to the United States.” 

This was one of the most successful applications of strategy in history – from the formulation of the strategic concept to its complex implementation, including politically – as it did effectively lead to the collapse of the Soviet Union. 

The most obvious practical problem with attempting to replicate this approach today, however, is the sheer cost differential: the relative military-economic advantage the US holds over China today (leaving aside the problems of Russia and Iran, and other aspects related to the global balance) is significantly less than it was the case with respect to the USSR in the 1980s. Reagan’s strategy was based on a major military build-up – including the space-based Strategic Defence Initiative for missile defence – combined with much better technology, which the Soviets could not match.

An arms race on this scale is not feasible today – or not in the next few years at any rate – both for economic reasons but also for technological and political reasons. A military buildup under Trump is certainly to be expected, and the well-performing US economy will likely afford it. But the scale required for this to parallel what Reagan achieved, and the political difficulties of switching to aggressive deployments – and navigating the crises that would certainly ensue as adversaries react – might put all this out of reach. The ideological element of Reagan’s struggle against the “evil communist empire”, which was central to his strategy, is likewise largely missing from the current environment which more likely resembles the world of 19th century balance of power politics.

Restraint

A grand strategy of restraint would be Trump’s third option at this point. The term is somewhat imprecise and it can be encountered under different meanings in defence and foreign policy debates. Here, it is used to capture what in recent years has been variously been described as the “isolationist” or Mearsheimer-style “realist” tendency on some of the new Right in US politics, and of many others elsewhere (including figures in allied countries) who embrace the “post-liberal” critique of the “American hegemony” in international affairs and its supposed ills. 

These are often enthusiasts for a “multipolar” world order, who essentially believe that US power has been misused – certainly in practice, but also from a moral standpoint – and who would therefore welcome the end of American primacy, partly as a way to save the US from the costly mistakes of its own actions and interventions abroad. 

Opinion among “restrainers” sits on a spectrum. Some prescribe a rather radical form of isolationism, complete with a withdrawal from alliances, or at least “mothballing” them – for example, the idea of a “dormant NATO”. Others accept the need for the US to be able to intervene militarily when its vital interests demand it, but reject the notion of any ideological or moral interference in such decisions. Their prescriptions centre on reducing America’s global military deployments and shifting a large part of the global security burden on to allies.

Implicit in almost all variations of the restraint argument is a readiness to accept the end of US primacy and the relative decline of US power – and thus a multipolar world – as a foregone conclusion. On this basis alone we may safely expect this view to have little traction with Trump, who has a strong, instinctive belief in America’s potential and indeed destiny. 

The problem of the restrainers, multipolarists and of all those who think that American primacy is over and that China – or a China-led system – is the future, is their short-term perspective. The fact is that the power of great nations experiences fluctuations over time. China’s “rise” is a phenomenon less than two decades old, in its more substantial form – and the coming years and decades will bring plenty of opportunities for it to go by the way of the Soviet Union. Not more than 15 years ago the EU and the US economies were roughly equal in size, and one could have foretold – many did – a great future for the European bloc. Today, America’s GDP is now around 50% higher than Europe’s, and the EU is in the process of disappearing in the rearview mirror of history. 

The fundamentals of the United States – economically, technologically, militarily and even demographically – are much stronger than those of any other major country. Trump knows this too, which is why his actual foreign policy vision is far removed from the “restraint” fallacy. If anything, the best bet is that, from a historical standpoint, the age of American power has barely begun.

Dominion

The path that Donald Trump is most likely to pursue in US grand strategy – perhaps in conjunction with elements of détente – can be provisionally called dominion. He is returning to the White House not only backed by strong political power and legitimacy – confirmed at the ballot box, by his landslide win – and with a fully-prepared large-scale governing team ready to take full control of the American state after 20 January, but also benefiting from significant geopolitical advantages, over both allies and foes. 

Despite its defiant tone and recalcitrant attitude, Europe is completely exposed and prostrate before American power. Under the Democrats, this mattered little because Biden, as a Trans-Atlanticist of the classic sort, held to the old post-WWII “allied spirit” that – despite the occasional rows – has guided America’s relationship with Europe for 80 years. But, technically, it doesn’t have to be like this, certainly not when European power has completely collapsed. A more irreverent and purely transactional president – say, one like Trump – will now be in a position to exact a heavy price for continued cooperation with Europe, and to push the “Old Lady” to the limit. Considering the insults he has had to endure from the across the “cradle of Western civilisation”, who can blame him.

Other allies are equally on or almost on their knees, and in the position of supplicants for US protection and help – including over economics and trade. These range from Canada; to the UK, with its economy now ruined by a combination of atrocious Tory and Labour policies; to Israel, which, its superb military accomplishments and bravery aside, depends heavily on US support and aid; and on to places like Australia, for whom AUKUS is now essential but, again, depends on US policy especially on tech cooperation and submarine deliveries; and, of course, the greatest dependent on US help – Ukraine. 

Foes, too, now hang on what Trump might do next. Russia, economically vulnerable after three years of full-scale war, needs Trump’s cooperation to get some kind of deal done over Ukraine, and likely fears American economic pressure especially on the oil front. Certainly, Moscow is ready for the worst case scenario as well, and is likely able to push on with the war even under the harshest conditions, but that would carry much higher costs and would change the nature of the conflict. 

In its turn, Iran, reeling from its multi-level defeats at Israel’s hands, must now be truly concerned about the real possibility of a US-Israeli strike on its nuclear programme. This would have been out of the question under the pro-Iran Democrats; but Trump’s arrival spells potential disaster for the ayatollahs. 

As Trump takes office, then, it is only China that stands as an implacable and difficult strategic adversary. But even China is experiencing economic difficulties, and its interest, in the short term at least, is to avoid a mutually-destructive trade war.

In this context, Trump is now in an unparalleled position of strength towards allies, which would allow him to dictate new terms of business – but also towards opponents, which likewise present him with opportunities for advancing his America First foreign policy chiefly through diplomacy and trade. 

Such a confluence of factors – leverage abroad, strength at home, despite all the domestic challenges and troubles – does not happen often, and certainly not in conjunction with a pattern- (and rule-)breaking character like Trump, and with a moment of such flux in international relations. 

The net result of all this is a great opportunity for Trump to assert his will – backed by the full power of the United States – in the world, and to start to imagine, and indeed to try, completely new possibilities in world affairs. We have already had a preview of this recently in his extraordinary proposals for Canada and Greenland to join the US. These are not just more “evidence” of Trump’s “crazy” mindset, as has been widely commented in the media. 

What these Trump suggestions really indicate is an instinctive sense of geopolitical opportunity on a grand scale, linked to the ongoing collapse in the global system of norms that has shaped world order as we’ve known it. From his vantage point as the planet’s most powerful man, Trump may well question exactly why should his and America’s options be limited by “international rules”. 

Who says that the current configuration of the USA is immutable? And if it is not, then how can it be amended? Might America even evolve beyond its republican form? After all, empire has provided history’s most enduring framework for organising human societies on a large scale; modern “liberal democracies” or even older republics, kingdoms and other forms of government are often mere blips on the timeline, by comparison. If anyone is willing and also able to break with the current order and open new paths in foreign policy behaviour – ignoring any and all gasps of shock from the “elite opinion” – it is Trump. Indeed, he has already done so with Greenland.

The notion that borders are now again open to revision (including by force), that countries may disappear and new ones arise, or indeed that countries could come together into new (or restored) “unions”, is entering the mainstream of contemporary political thinking. Just in recent decades we have seen the creation of South Sudan and Kosovo, not to mention the plethora of unrecognised post-conflict states ranging from Transnistria to Somaliland. Even the UK government is negotiating the surrender of its sovereignty over the Chagos Islands to Mauritius.

Trump’s America may not be about to embark on a spree of imperial conquest, but the serious point here is that we have arrived at a juncture in world history when profound changes are becoming possible. We are used to debates about how to reform “world order”, what tweaks should be applied to “global governance”, and how alliance systems might evolve. 

But perhaps we are not thinking big enough. Perhaps the world is reverting to older patterns of statecraft where expansion is once again becoming a legitimate objective of state action – in the classic sense of direct territorial acquisition, or in the form of protectorates and other kinds of dependencies, or indeed, most certainly, in the form of classic spheres of interests. 

As regions continue to convulse under the geopolitical pressures and political associations like the EU head towards fragmentation, the great imperial-like powers like the US may well be in a position to offer hard-pressed polities a suzerainty deal they could not refuse. Rather than “great power competition”, a more appropriate framework for long-term US grand strategy, then, should be dominion. After all, the end of the Republic was only the beginning of half a millennium of imperial rule at Rome.