Whether friend or foe, you’d better be prepared amid the unexpected resurgence in US foreign policy in 2026.
Buddhism’s three core characteristics – permanence, suffering, and non-self – are finding echoes in Trump 2.0’s America First policy: alliances are treated as impermanent and conditional, prolonged overseas commitments are viewed as sources of national suffering and waste and the United States refuses to dissolve its sovereign “self” into multilateral institutions.
The previous period of frequent apologies for American power, reflexive multilateralism that could weaken US interests and idealistic efforts that consumed resources without clear benefits is over.
The shift back is distinctly exceptionalist, transactional and unapologetic. Although these traits are not new—they recall 19th-century American expansionism, especially during the Monroe Doctrine era—today’s multipolar world sees this approach redefining global order by emphasizing American dominance, demanding reciprocity from allies and swiftly punishing adversaries.
Exceptionalism has long been central to American identity. Under the Trump administration, this concept became official policy, and the “Trump Corollary” to the Monroe Doctrine in the 2025 National Security Strategy (NSS) clearly emphasizes US dominance in the Americas.
The recent military operation in Venezuela illustrates how the US considers itself the essential protector of its neighborhood. In addition to capturing a sitting president and his wife in a targeted strike, claiming it was against narco-terrorism and aimed at securing Venezuelan oil for US interests, Trump pledged that the US would “run” the country for some time, unbound by international norms or alliance vetoes.
This points to a White House eager to reassert American dominance in the Western Hemisphere—protecting energy supplies, restricting migration, and countering Chinese influence in the region.
Complementing this sense of exceptionalism is a notably transactional view of international relations, treating exchanges as a zero-sum game in which the US gains value proportional to its contributions.
The NSS rightly criticized European allies for free-riding and called on them to take on primary defense responsibilities. The success in getting NATO to increase defense spending was achieved not through persuasion but through threats of troop withdrawals and tariffs. Allies like Germany and France, accustomed to US security guarantees, now face a choice: spend more or see reduced American commitments.
This strategy also applies to Asia, with countries such as Japan and South Korea expected to assume a greater share of the burden in deterring China. Even in the Middle East, post-Abraham Accords expansions involve explicit economic benefits, such as technology transfers linked to US business interests.
Unapologetic resolve unifies the narrative, rejecting the hand-wringing typical of post-Iraq War diplomacy. The Trump administration does not hesitate to bypass UN approval and coalition consensus for actions it deems essential.
US strikes on Iranian nuclear sites in June 2025, carried out in collaboration with Israel, were executed without apology, fulfilling campaign pledges to eliminate threats.
This firm stance also shapes rhetoric: Trump’s warnings to countries such as Cuba and Colombia demonstrate a readiness to exert greater influence in the region, and this extends globally.
Following Venezuela, Iran and Nigeria, the likelihood of a military intervention in Greenland is probably not higher, but the possibility of scaring Denmark – and Europe – into negotiations is.
As part of this strategy, after small NATO troop deployments to Greenland for joint exercises, Trump intensified his efforts to acquire Greenland by threatening 10% tariffs, starting February 1, 2026. These tariffs would apply to imports from eight NATO allies and would increase to 25% in June 2026 if no agreement is reached to purchase the Arctic territory.
In Ukraine, the administration endorsed an unpopular peace deal, prioritizing de-escalation over an ideological victory over Russia, and was unapologetic about dismissing Kyiv’s maximalist demands. This indicates a deliberate shift away from guilt-tripping narratives that have undermined US leverage.
This all traces back to the 1823 Monroe Doctrine. At that time, newly independent America asserted its exceptionalism by declaring the Western Hemisphere off-limits to European colonization and positioning itself as the region’s natural leader.
The approach was also pragmatic—there were implicit agreements with Britain, whose navy upheld the doctrine in exchange for US non-interference in European affairs—and boldly expansionist: the US moved westward, annexing territories like Florida and Texas without much concern for indigenous rights or global opinion, fueled by Manifest Destiny’s exceptionalist drive.
Like then, today’s policies are shaped by perceived vulnerabilities. The Monroe Doctrine’s emphasis on hemispheric security parallels the NSS’s shift toward minimizing overseas commitments to strengthen domestic capacity.
However, notable differences exist. Then-19th-century America was rising, not just defending its primacy. Today, the US faces nuclear rivals and economic interdependence. Nonetheless, the resemblance is striking—Trump’s “Donroe Doctrine” rephrases Monroe’s principles for a modern audience, combining economic influence with strategic dominance.
This resurgence involves risks. Such moves could alienate allies, strengthen autocrats and disrupt the global balance. The Trump administration’s use of the term “civilizational erasure” in the NSS to refer to Europe’s racial balance immediately strained transatlantic relations and may still affect NATO’s unity.
In Asia, transactional strategies may lead US partners to side with China. While the Venezuela operation has had tactical successes, it risks becoming a quagmire or exacerbating anti-US sentiment, thereby hindering long-term goals.
Yet this correction might reveal something essential. Post-Cold War strategies—marked by protracted wars, nation-building and unchecked alliances—drained US resources, driving debt to unprecedented levels as China gained prominence.
The current approach, grounded in exceptionalism, transactional dealings and a straightforward focus, redirects attention to core interests: protecting borders, strengthening the economy and deterring adversaries.
The primary concern is whether it might result in overreach. For now, it symbolizes a daring reassertion of American influence by a politician unbound by re-election pressure.
Eric Alter is a non-resident senior fellow at the Atlantic Council and a former UN civil servant