The End of the "Liberal International Order"
The year 2026 may well be remembered as the moment when the liberal international order finally expired. Yet it would be a mistake to see its demise as the result of a single event, even one as dramatic as the invasion of Iran. The truth is less dramatic and more structural. The order had been eroding for decades. What we are witnessing now is the culmination of a long process of exhaustion that began in the early 2000s and has taken roughly a quarter of a century to unfold.
The defining fact of our moment is that few people any longer believe in the existence of a rules-based liberal order grounded in universal norms. Once that belief disappears, the order itself cannot survive. Donald Trump did not create this shift. Rather, his presidency symbolised it. He appeared not as the architect of the system’s collapse but as its final embodiment.
In reality, the post-Cold War order had already begun to fracture when the United States launched the Iraq war in 2003. That conflict marked a turning point. Its consequences reverberated across the Middle East and beyond.
The Arab uprisings of 2010–11 were in part a delayed aftershock. Popular movements destabilised regimes across the region. In Libya, the United States and its allies intervened from the air in support of anti-government forces, leading to the collapse of Muammar Gaddafi’s regime.
Yet the fall of authoritarian governments did not produce stability or prosperity. Instead, power vacuums emerged. Rival militias competed for control. Infrastructure deteriorated. Ethnic and sectarian divisions intensified. In many places, the value of human life itself seemed to diminish amid prolonged disorder.
The Syrian civil war illustrates the pattern. As the Assad regime violently suppressed opposition forces, millions fled the country. Refugees flowed through Turkey into Europe. The political consequences were profound. Across the continent, nationalist and far-right movements gained strength as voters reacted to rising migration.
The result was a transformation of European politics. Liberal ideas lost ground not only on immigration but across a wide range of issues, from governance to environmental policy. What followed was a politics increasingly defined by backlash and reaction.
At the same time, the strategic environment was changing. While the United States remained preoccupied with the war on terror, China continued its rapid rise. Meanwhile, scepticism about free trade grew within the United States itself. Universalist principles — foreign aid, multilateralism and global governance — became less politically attractive. Voters in advanced economies increasingly demanded that governments prioritise domestic security and economic stability.
Seen in isolation, these developments may appear unrelated. Viewed from a longer historical perspective, however, they form part of a single structural shift.
The end of the liberal international order therefore signifies more than the return of power politics. It also marks the weakening of the intellectual framework that once underpinned the system: the belief that the advanced democracies, particularly the G7, could collectively guide global governance through shared liberal norms. As those norms erode domestically, they inevitably lose force internationally.
What follows such an order?
The answer is not chaos, but a different kind of structure. In security terms, the logic of power will play a greater role. Major powers will increasingly recognise one another’s spheres of influence and accommodate core strategic interests. International law will not disappear. States still benefit from predictability and rules that reduce the costs of cooperation. Yet those rules themselves will gradually evolve to reflect a more overtly multipolar world.
Within advanced democracies, domestic politics is likely to revolve around a contest between two tendencies. One is pragmatic realism, which prioritises stability and adaptation. The other is the continued rise of populism.
Japan, for the moment, represents a relatively stable case. Adjustments in the rhetoric and policy positions of established parties can be understood as a form of adaptation — an attempt to prevent political space from being captured by new populist forces. Japanese voters remain comparatively cautious and stability-oriented. Yet they are also quick to abandon governments that appear incapable of responding to change.
Across advanced democracies, the underlying theme is similar. The international order itself is in transition. Politics everywhere is increasingly shaped by two forces: change and uncertainty.
Japan’s Structural Constraints
If the international order is undergoing such a transformation, rhetorical adjustments alone are no longer sufficient. Diplomacy cannot simply recalibrate tone or expectations. What is required instead is a clear recognition of structural constraints and the construction of a new strategic outlook.
Japan faces three such constraints.
First, its security depends heavily on the United States. Second, its energy supply depends largely on the Middle East. Third, its industrial inputs — including rare earths and other critical materials — depend significantly on China.
These dependencies cannot easily be altered. But where diversification or mitigation is possible, it must be pursued.
The energy dimension illustrates the problem particularly clearly. Japan’s dependence on Middle Eastern crude oil remains extremely high, even though its dependence on Middle Eastern natural gas is considerably lower. Oil therefore represents the country’s most acute external vulnerability.
This reality became visible again as tensions escalated around the Strait of Hormuz. The Japanese government moved quickly to announce the release of strategic petroleum reserves in order to stabilise domestic supply expectations. The decision reflected both the scale of Japan’s oil dependence and the speed with which disruptions in the Middle East can affect its economy.
Japan’s strategic environment is also being reshaped by changes in American foreign policy. Over roughly five years under the Trump administration, the conceptual framework of US diplomacy shifted from an assumption of American unipolarity toward acceptance of a multipolar world.
Earlier administrations had assumed that China and Russia would ultimately accommodate themselves to a US-led order. The Trump administration revised that assumption. Faced with China’s rise in an era of deep globalisation, and with the exhaustion produced by two decades of counter-terrorism wars, Washington increasingly concluded that maintaining strategic advantage required renewed emphasis on military innovation and economic competition.
This worldview carries practical consequences. Allies dependent on US security are increasingly treated as instruments within a broader strategic competition. At the same time, Washington may pursue pragmatic accommodations with powers such as Russia or China when it considers such arrangements advantageous.
In this context, the preservation of Western unity has become less important than securing resources, industrial capacity and supply chains.
The war in Ukraine provides an example. The United States has shown little inclination to sustain unlimited support indefinitely. A de facto accommodation with Russia has gradually emerged. The invasion of Iran appears to have accelerated this shift. With the disruption of energy flows through the Strait of Hormuz, discussions have even surfaced about easing sanctions on Russian oil.
The growing proximity between the United States and Russia should therefore not be interpreted primarily as the personal preference of any particular leader. It is the product of structural pressures within the evolving international system.
Japanese society, meanwhile, has reacted to the prospect of a Hormuz blockade with a degree of uncertainty. Some fear entrapment through the US-Japan alliance. Others fear abandonment by the United States. Yet these debates often overlook the deeper issue: Japan’s triple structural dependence on the United States for security, the Middle East for energy and China for critical materials.
The period during which the liberal international order existed in anything approaching its pure form lasted perhaps little more than a decade. In an era increasingly defined by self-help, strengthening national resilience — economically as well as militarily — is unavoidable.
Yet Japan cannot achieve full autonomy on its own. In defence, greater self-reliance will be necessary. In economic policy, the country must think strategically about the integration of resources, energy and technology. Investment should focus on industries capable of becoming strategic assets.
Equally important is ensuring that these capabilities are recognised as valuable by Japan’s partners in the advanced democracies. Only by doing so can Japan secure its position in a world where the assumptions of the previous international order no longer hold.