Consider two pivotal years in recent history: 1991 and 2014. The Berlin Wall fell in 1989, and the world changed profoundly a few years later with the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. American political scientist Francis Fukuyama celebrated this moment by writing The End of History and the Last Man. For Fukuyama, the emergence of the United States as the sole superpower following the Soviet Union's demise symbolised the defeat of communism and all ideologies that challenged Western ideals. He argued that liberal democracy represented the endpoint of ideological evolution, embodying the highest synthesis of freedom, human rights, and economic prosperity. He described this as “the end of history.”
To understand how the West, particularly the United States, reached this outcome, let us step back into 20th-century history.
Once allies during the Second World War, the United States and the Soviet Union turned into mortal enemies at the start of the 1950s, becoming locked in an arms race that divided the world into two blocs, hence starting the Cold War. The US-led Western bloc, along with its allies, made economic progress, with civil and democratic institutions developing robustly. This bloc came to represent prosperity and freedom compared to the rival Soviet bloc, attracting free nations, Third World countries, and Middle Eastern monarchies alike. These qualities of the US-led bloc became its true source of strength and influence. However, the end of the Cold War in 1991, with the Soviet Union’s collapse, altered this attitude in the West, particularly in the United States.
Former friends and allies soon found themselves in the crosshairs of the United States' new philosophy as the sole superpower. It aimed to transform the world in its own image — democracy, a free-market economy, human rights, etc. — often through the use of force. Middle Eastern allies, in particular, felt the impact of this New World Order more intensely than other regions. Countries like Pakistan spent the next two decades in a state of bewilderment, struggling to adjust to a new global dynamic where alliances and historic friendships were overshadowed by national interests. The US emerged as a power that used brutal force to achieve its aims without hesitation. Freedom of speech, human rights, and democracy became tools for dictating terms rather than principles in their own right. For American political theorists like John Mearsheimer, this strategy reflected a "realist" approach to foreign policy, whereby the superpower would allow no rival to gain strength and, when economic sanctions or other control measures failed, would use military force with minimal reluctance. According to Mearsheimer, a superpower has no other option if it wishes to maintain hegemonic status — this is realism à la US foreign policy.
China began its rise as a global manufacturing hub, producing low-cost goods with skilled, affordable labour. Over the next decade, both Russia and China developed their economies and military capabilities to the extent that they could no longer be easily pressured
However, as history progressed, two developments began to jeopardise the new world order created by the US: prolonged military engagement in Afghanistan and NATO’s expansion into Eastern Europe. These allowed Russia the breathing room needed to recover from the collapse of the USSR under Vladimir Putin’s leadership. Meanwhile, China began its rise as a global manufacturing hub, producing low-cost goods with skilled, affordable labour. Over the next decade, both Russia and China developed their economies and military capabilities to the extent that they could no longer be easily pressured. Both asserted themselves in their respective regions: China in the South China Sea, and Russia in Eastern Europe.
The year 2014 marked a significant shift with Russia’s annexation of Crimea. Around the same time, China openly signalled its global ambitions by introducing the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) and launching the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC), which alarmed both the US and India for their own respective reasons. In that year, other momentous changes also took place: rapid advancements in digital technologies strengthened China’s capabilities in production and innovation, and Taiwan emerged as a crucial hub for microchip manufacturing — a strategic asset for both the United States and China. In India, the election of Prime Minister Narendra Modi and his BJP government inaugurated a new chapter in India’s economic progress and foreign policy. This trio — Russia, India, and China — would soon coalesce into alliances such as BRICS and the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO), posing a serious challenge to US hegemony.
Over the past 35 years, the US economy has become increasingly reliant on arms sales, sustaining what is now referred to as a “war economy.” As this model has evolved, domestic production of essential goods has conspicuously diminished, leaving the US dependent on imports from China, India, and other nations
While these developments unfolded in the Global South, the United States continued its NATO expansion towards Russia's borders, ultimately reaching Ukraine — a red line for Moscow. In response, Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022, dragging the United States into a proxy conflict through President Zelenskyy’s government in Ukraine. American thinkers have lamented this “misguided strategy,” which has effectively strengthened ties between Russia and China in areas of economic and military cooperation. India shrewdly capitalised on this situation. Although the US forged a strategic partnership with India in 2004, bolstered by a civil nuclear deal in 2008 and the Strategic and Commercial Dialogue in 2015, ostensibly to counter China’s influence. India paradoxically increased trade with China while strengthening ties with Russia. Perhaps the most unsettling development for the United States was the rise of BRICS, alongside murmurs of de-dollarisation — a direct challenge to the US-led financial system.
What began with Fukuyama’s End of History has now led to this juncture.
Over the past 35 years, the US economy has become increasingly reliant on arms sales, sustaining what is now referred to as a “war economy.” As this model has evolved, domestic production of essential goods has conspicuously diminished, leaving the US dependent on imports from China, India, and other nations. The American labour market, with wages ranging from $15 to $20 per hour, struggles to compete with the production costs of goods manufactured in Asia. Meanwhile, the United States finds itself entangled in two theatres of conflict: Ukraine and Gaza.
Against this backdrop, it makes total sense why American voters have rallied behind Donald Trump, seeking his return to office. Trump’s policy of disengagement from foreign wars reflects a “realist approach” in its own right, and urges the United States to prioritise its domestic needs and reconsider its hegemonic ambitions. Acknowledging this new reality would mean recognising that the world has moved beyond the ideological endpoint Fukuyama once envisioned. The question remains whether the US establishment is prepared to adapt to this shift, a development that will only become clear as history continues to unfold in the times to come.
Amidst this changing world, it also remains to be seen when Pakistan will find its way out of the political turmoil that has brought the country’s economy to a standstill and left its foreign policy out of sync with new global realities.