TOKYO — The first anniversary of U.S. President Donald Trump’s second term unfolded under the shadow of sharply escalating transatlantic discord, exacerbated by his hard-edged campaign to bring Greenland, a Danish territory, into the American fold.

At this year’s World Economic Forum, held from Jan. 19 to Jan. 23 in Davos, Switzerland, Trump effectively climbed down from his earlier threats of using military force to acquire Greenland, yet he remained adamant about securing control of the world’s largest island, most of it buried beneath an ice sheet.

Seeking to curb Washington’s ambitions, major European countries, including the U.K., France and Germany, sent personnel to Greenland for joint military exercises, further inflaming tensions. Instead of behaving like long-standing partners, the U.S. and Europe are drifting into a semi-adversarial posture.

A “world without the West” is taking shape. That may sound like hyperbole, but the era in which the U.S.-European partnership sets the rules and others simply follow them has receded into history. After consecutive trips to Europe and the U.S. last December, I came away convinced the world is undergoing a drastic shift.

Since the end of World War II, the U.S. and Europe have worked in lockstep to build and steward the global order. The unraveling of that system marks a profound turning point in the postwar era.

Today’s transatlantic rift goes far beyond territorial disputes or strategic disagreements; it cuts to the heart of how each side sees the nation and the world itself.

If this were a human relationship, it would resemble a partnership in which differences in values have grown so deep that trust no longer binds the two sides. Conflicts of interest can be negotiated, but a clash of values is far harder to bridge. As a world sans the West takes shape, the resulting shockwaves could spread, leaving international politics even more unmoored. It is a trajectory that casts a long, unsettling shadow over the global future.

The National Security Strategy, released by the Trump administration on Dec. 5 to guide Pentagon policy, crystallized this divide. Its language toward Europe was so caustic that it no longer sounded as if Washington were addressing an ally.

The document argued, for example, that Europe’s traditional communities and values are being eroded by a rapid influx of immigrants. “Should present trends continue, the continent will be unrecognizable in 20 years or less,” it warned. It also cast doubt on the future of the alliance, asserting that “it is far from obvious whether certain European countries will have economies and militaries strong enough to remain reliable allies.”

With far-right and right-wing populist parties clearly in mind, the strategy went on to praise “the growing influence of patriotic European parties,” which it said “gives cause for great optimism” — a thinly veiled signal of Washington’s support.

Why does Trump harbor such deep hostility toward Europe today and attack it so relentlessly? According to foreign-policy experts and former U.S. officials familiar with the administration’s internal thinking, three primary factors are driving this stance.

First, the administration’s strategy aims to bring a swift end to Europe’s dependence on U.S. military power. The goal is to jolt Europe into accelerating its own defense self-reliance.

The second reason runs deeper. The Trump administration is fortifying U.S. borders through tighter immigration controls and higher tariffs, an effort to reinforce the basic architecture of the sovereign state. From Washington’s viewpoint, Europe is moving in the opposite direction, with individual nations weakening the very concept of sovereignty. The administration fears that continued immigration from the Middle East and Africa into Europe, and the resulting dilution of what they view as Europe’s Western civilizational core, will ultimately erode U.S. interests with serious consequences.

Third, Trump and his inner circle nurse a deep resentment of the European elites who, in their view, treated them with condescension during the first Trump term.

Viewed in this light, far-right and other parties advocating anti-immigration policies and fortified borders are natural allies.

“Trump’s team views the essence of a nation as its borders and sovereignty,” said Walter Russell Mead, a distinguished fellow at the Hudson Institute, a Washington-based think tank. “From this perspective, the European Union, an entity that blurs national borders and pushes political integration, appears to him as a project that dissolves real statehood.”

In the postwar era, shaped in part by the lessons of devastation, the EU pursued integration by lowering borders and enabling the free movement of people and goods. Successive U.S. administrations broadly endorsed this direction.

Trump’s team has upended that consensus, however, moving in a direction that directly repudiates the European model. Predictably, this has triggered fierce backlash across the continent. What angers European politicians and pundits most is Washington’s open encouragement of far-right and right-wing populist parties — forces they regard as existential threats to Europe’s values and political foundations. These parties typically champion anti-immigration and anti-EU agendas, and some carry a noticeable pro-Russian tilt.

“Trump sees Europe’s large-scale acceptance of migrants from the Islamic world as eroding the cultural foundations of Western civilization,” Mead said.

The rise of far-right populist movements across Europe has been striking. In Germany, Alternative for Germany, or AfD, surged to become the second-largest party in the February 2025 general election. In France, Jordan Bardella of the National Rally party now leads polling for the 2027 presidential race, while in the U.K., the hard-right Reform UK is posting record support, outpacing both the Conservative and Labour parties in many surveys.

For leaders in London, Berlin and Paris, a Trump administration that openly bolsters such forces looks less like an ally than a potential adversary. A Labour member of the British Parliament long known for his pro-American stance, captured this sentiment when he told me that, under Trump, the U.S. has shifted from an ally to a hostile nation.

As the Hudson Institute’s Mead said: “In Trump’s view, a Europe that weakens itself both politically and culturally becomes a less valuable ally and increases America’s strategic burden.”

For two days, ending Dec. 12, senior officials and policy experts from the U.S., Europe and other regions convened in the Romanian capital of Bucharest to discuss Ukraine’s future in a forum titled “Rebuilding Ukraine: Security, Opportunities, Investments,” organized by Romania’s New Strategy Center. Several European participants voiced serious concern about the implications of Washington’s changing strategic posture, with one remarking that the newly released National Security Strategy makes clear that Europe must speed up its drive for strategic self-reliance.

With Washington and Europe now embracing national and global worldviews as incompatible as oil and water, the transatlantic fissure is poised to widen this year. In the run-up to this autumn’s midterm elections, the Trump administration is expected to raise its border “walls” even higher and impose still stricter immigration controls.

Meanwhile, Britain, Germany, France and other major European nations face a series of pivotal elections between now and 2029. As far-right and right-wing populist parties continue to expand their influence, Europe’s sense of alarm over the Trump administration is almost certain to intensify.

Compounding the strain on U.S.-Europe relations is a growing divergence in their approaches to Russia. While European governments remain acutely aware that their security is at risk unless Russia’s invasion of Ukraine ends in failure, Trump views China — not Russia — as the primary geopolitical threat. Consequently, the White House has been advocating for a ceasefire between Russia and Ukraine and is considering the possibility of improving ties with Moscow. The strategic trajectories of the U.S. and Europe are, in effect, moving in opposite directions.

If this schism continues to deepen, the consequences for Asia will be profound. Japan, Australia and South Korea have been pushing for closer alignment with NATO in response to the security challenges posed by China and Russia. Their strategy rests on the assumption that China and Russia’s accelerating military cooperation requires deeper, globe-spanning coordination with NATO to contain Beijing and Moscow and reinforce deterrence.

But if the divide widens, cooperation between NATO and the three U.S. allies in the Asia-Pacific could begin to deteriorate. Russia and China, long wary of growing NATO-Asia coordination, would feel emboldened and act more aggressively, further destabilizing the Taiwan Strait and the South China Sea. Strains in U.S.-India ties, caused by the Trump administration’s stance on Pakistan and tariff disputes, come as welcome news to China and Russia, which have been uneasy about the deepening partnership between Washington and New Delhi.

Preventing such an outcome makes it all the more urgent for Japan and other U.S. allies in Asia to sustain close coordination with both the U.S. and Europe.

TOKYO — At first, U.S. President Donald Trump seemed genuinely intent on securing a place in history as a formidable peacemaker, remembered for a remarkable record of conflict resolution. Yet his Jan. 3 strike on Venezuela and the ensuing capture of its leader, Nicolas Maduro, leave little doubt that Trump can no longer restrain his contrary impulses and is veering toward a far more radical course.

For years, Maduro has suppressed human rights and dismantled democratic institutions under his authoritarian rule, triggering the exodus of millions of Venezuelans. Even within Western democracies, some voices have expressed tacit support for regime change in the South American nation. Still, it is unclear if Trump has a coherent strategy for how events should unfold in the months ahead.

Last December, I met with U.S. foreign policy and security experts familiar with the inner workings of the Trump administration to inquire about the objectives behind its escalating military pressure on Venezuela. Based on those discussions, Trump’s strategy appears set to unfold in two stages.

The first stage aims to expel “hostile forces,” perceived as threats to the U.S. mainland, from strategic locations such as Venezuela. This vision extends beyond the Maduro regime and criminal networks.

“Trump also sees China’s growing presence in Venezuela, which possesses the world’s largest proven oil reserves, as a serious concern,” said a security expert, speaking on condition of anonymity. China is already Venezuela’s largest purchaser of crude oil.

The second stage, as envisioned by the Trump White House, is to significantly weaken the regime in Cuba, which has long been defiant toward Washington. The administration believes that toppling the Maduro government, which maintains close ties with Havana and supplies it with heavily subsidized oil, would effectively isolate Cuba and erode its resilience.

China’s shadow also looms over Washington’s intensified pressure on Cuba. Intelligence suggests that Beijing has established surveillance facilities on the island, a concern that first gained traction during the previous Joe Biden administration and has since grown more acute.

At the same time, Trump is seeking to curb Chinese influence in other strategic zones, including the Panama Canal and Greenland, as part of a broader effort to assert U.S. dominance across the Western Hemisphere.

These strategic imperatives did not emerge in a vacuum; they were already articulated in the U.S. National Security Strategy released last December. Nevertheless, seizing a sovereign nation’s leader by force, along with the potential installation of a U.S.-backed interim administration, defies the imagination of any reasonable observer.

Trump has justified the operation by citing Maduro’s alleged role in trafficking narcotics into the U.S. But that rationale appears tenuous.

“Venezuela is not a major drug-producing country, and much of the narcotics transiting through its territory are bound for Europe,” said another security expert.

The U.S. intervention in Venezuela carries a profound risk: It may accelerate the erosion of international legal norms and push the world closer to a state of lawlessness. At least two dangers stand out.

First, it lends dangerous momentum to the notion that the world’s great powers are entitled to intervene militarily in other sovereign states. Many observers argue that Trump’s action constitutes a clear violation of international law and the United Nations Charter, which forbids the use of force without Security Council authorization or a legitimate self-defense justification. Though Trump asserts he is acting to avert a third world war, his moves might instead be hastening it.

Of particular concern is how this precedent may shape the behavior of China and Russia, both of which have reacted sharply to the U.S. assault on their ally Venezuela. The overthrow of the Maduro regime would entail significant practical losses for China and Russia, which have security and economic interests in the country. While their outrage seems genuine, it also likely masks a calculated expectation of medium-term strategic benefits.

If the U.S. claims the right to intervene militarily in its “backyard” to defend national interests, then Beijing and Moscow may feel emboldened to assert the same prerogative in their respective spheres of influence. It is not hard to imagine Russian President Vladimir Putin seizing on Washington’s actions as propaganda fodder, justifying the invasion of Ukraine with the same rhetoric of national interest and historical precedent.

Beijing could similarly rely on this logic to justify its aggression. China asserts sweeping claims over the South China Sea and regards the Taiwan Strait as part of its “backyard”. There is growing concern that it could escalate its use of force to obstruct the passage of foreign naval vessels in these contested waters.

The second concern is that the recent strategic tilt toward the Americas could dilute U.S. strategic focus and overstretch its defense commitments in the Indo-Pacific and Europe.

Over the past two decades, the U.S. has failed in its attempts to build pro-American regimes in Afghanistan and Iraq following its invasions. This failure has severely eroded U.S. credibility, leaving both Afghanistan and much of the Middle East mired in instability and conflict.

To avoid this failure, the Trump administration intends not to be directly involved in Venezuela’s national reconstruction, but rather to remotely control it by using the remaining forces. But, key figures in the pro-Maduro government and military remain entrenched, and the country harbors numerous anti-American guerrilla groups. Dismantling the Maduro regime may prove far easier than establishing a stable successor government.

For 20 years, as Washington was absorbed by the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, it failed to craft a coherent strategy to counter China’s rise. In that vacuum, Beijing accelerated its military modernization, and the strategic balance in Asia has shifted decisively in its favor.

Against this backdrop, Trump condemned the Iraq invasion in February 2016. “Going into Iraq, it may have been the worst decision anybody has made, any president has made, in the history of this country,” said the then-Republican presidential candidate at a CNN town hall event. Although the situation differs from the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, if the Trump administration’s security and diplomatic energy is consumed by the Americas, it will be unable to devote sufficient focus to its China strategy, ultimately risking a “new lost era” for that strategy.

How, then, should responsible powers respond to rising geopolitical risks? The most urgent task is for key U.S. allies, including Japan, European partners, South Korea and Australia, to coordinate their efforts to contain the spread of global disorder.

First, these nations must work to prevent emerging and developing countries from drifting en masse toward blocs led by China and Russia, such as BRICS or the Shanghai Cooperation Organization. To do so, Western democracies must offer compelling alternatives — trade frameworks, technology and climate policy that deliver tangible benefits to the countries of the Global South.

“Japan and other U.S. allies should lessen strategic reliance on Washington by prioritizing intelligence sharing and defense-industrial cooperation, while building stronger regional partnerships and sustaining support for Ukraine,” said Giulio Pugliese, director of the EU-Asia Project at the European University Institute. “Even as these allies shift their strategic focus to their own theaters, coordinated action — including in diplomacy — among like-minded partners will be an important factor to preserving a rules-based order despite U.S. structural power.”

Moreover, to safeguard stability in both the Indo-Pacific and Europe, U.S. allies and like-minded nations must deepen security and economic ties. Expanding joint military exercises and interoperability will be essential to strengthening broad-based cooperation and partnership as well as promoting free trade. Emma Chanlett-Avery, deputy director of the Asia Society Policy Institute’s Washington, D.C. office and the director for political-security affairs told Nikkei, “Japan should deepen bilateral ties with partners like South Korea, Australia and Europe, while taking a more proactive role in multilateral frameworks such as the Quad, G7 and G20. Priorities include advancing security agreements, strengthening defense collaboration, and expanding trade networks through CPTPP and RCEP.”

In the 1930s, the collapse of the rules-based international order had catastrophic consequences, culminating in World War II. We cannot afford to repeat the same mistake.

U.S. President Donald Trump’s shift in defense focus to the country’s “backyard,” particularly the Caribbean, could potentially upend Asia’s security order. (Nikkei montage/Source photos by Reuters)

From left: South Korean President Lee Jae Myung, Japanese Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba and U.S. President Donald Trump. Ahead of the expected release of the new U.S. National Defense Strategy, allies in Europe and Asia are increasingly concerned that Washington may announce a major shift in military focus. (Nikkei montage/Source photos by Reuters)

TOKYO — More than six months into his second presidency, the global repercussions of Donald Trump’s renewed leadership are becoming increasingly clear.

On the positive side, Trump has moved swiftly to involve himself in international conflicts, aiming to stem the tide of violence. He has repeatedly declared his intent to prevent a third world war, a desire that appears genuine.

The Trump administration has devoted significant energy to conflict resolution. In Ukraine, the president has pushed aggressively for a ceasefire. On Aug. 15 Trump met with Russian President Vladimir Putin to personally urge him to agree to a ceasefire. In May, he intervened in cross-border clashes between India and Pakistan, helping to broker a truce. Then in July, he facilitated progress toward reconciliation between Thailand and Cambodia during their territorial dispute.

While his pursuit of a Nobel Peace Prize may partly motivate his actions, his efforts to reduce global tensions deserve recognition.

However, whether Trump is truly making the world safer remains an open question. If anything, the past six months point in the opposite direction. He may ultimately be remembered less as a peacemaker and more as a leader who unintentionally intensified global instability.

The problem lies in his piecemeal approach to achieving peace. While touting “peace through strength,” Trump has articulated few coherent long-term strategies. Instead, he relies on ad hoc interventions, clinging to the notion of striking “beautiful deals.” He appears convinced that negotiating ceasefires one by one will somehow secure lasting global peace.

But accumulating ceasefires alone will not stop the spread of war, just as surviving individual typhoons and tornadoes will not eliminate the threat of natural disasters unless the underlying issue of climate change is addressed.

Breaking the cycle of conflict requires more than tactical diplomacy — it demands confronting the “climate change” of global security by revitalizing the rules-based international order and reinforcing the U.S.-led alliance network that underpins global stability.

Trump, however, has pursued a markedly different course, initiating tariff wars against key allies like Japan, South Korea and European nations. These actions have fractured the unity essential to global stability. At the same time, he has undermined the role of the United Nations and other international institutions, further eroding the foundations of the rules-based order.

Russia and China appear increasingly confident in their reading of Trump, trying to turn it to their advantage. What Chinese President Xi Jinping fears most is a cohesive, U.S.-led alliance capable of forming a strategic and technological perimeter around China. Yet Trump’s focus remains fixed on extracting trade concessions, seemingly detached from the broader geopolitical context.

Trump’s mindset became clear during a July 22 meeting with Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. at the White House, when he told reporters, “I don’t mind if he [President Marcos] gets along with China, because we’re getting along with China very well, we have a very good relationship [with Beijing].”

Such a remark would be unthinkable from a leader who takes the geopolitical rivalry with China seriously. If the Philippines drifts closer to Beijing, the strategic balance in the South China Sea, one of Asia’s most contested regions, could tilt further in China’s favor, accelerating the erosion of U.S. geopolitical influence. Diplomatic goodwill, while important, is not sufficient to secure the interests of the U.S. and its allies in this vital area.

Russian President Vladimir Putin, too, seems increasingly assured that Trump is unlikely to stand in the way of his ambitions. While Putin agreed to meet with the U.S. president in Alaska on Friday to discuss a potential ceasefire in Ukraine, he remains unwilling to soften his hardline stance toward the neighboring country his country invaded in 2022.

“All of Russia’s goals on the Ukrainian issue have remained unchanged,” Putin said on Aug. 1.

Putin’s calculus seems straightforward: Unlike his predecessor Joe Biden, Trump does not see Russia’s aggression as a fundamental threat to the rules-based international order. As such, Putin appears to believe that Trump would have little inclination to defend Ukraine if doing so risked badly damaging its relations with Moscow. He clearly expects NATO’s cohesion to fray under U.S. leadership by Trump, gradually weakening Western support for Ukraine.

Even if Trump eventually imposes new sanctions out of frustration, there is little indication they would meaningfully influence Putin’s behavior.

In a previous article, I warned that Trump’s return could signal a revival of great-power diplomacy reminiscent of the Yalta Conference in 1945. At Yalta, U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill and Soviet leader Joseph Stalin made secret deals — without Allied consultation — that shaped the postwar order, including the division of Germany and the creation of the U.N.

My concern was that Trump could once again sideline America’s allies, forging unilateral agreements with China and Russia that define global diplomacy and security through opaque, backchannel dealings.

Regrettably, the current situation is worse than I had imagined. If China and Russia’s strongmen have truly sized Trump up, they could exploit his vulnerabilities to pursue aggressive moves, further destabilizing Europe and Asia.

Trump’s fiercely competitive nature becomes less of an asset and more of a liability. When former Russian President Dmitry Medvedev recently issued nuclear threats, Trump reacted by announcing the repositioning of “two nuclear submarines” to “appropriate regions,” a move widely understood as encroaching on Russian waters. Far from being deterred, the Kremlin likely realized how easily Trump could be provoked and disoriented.

To prevent U.S. foreign policy from veering into dangerous territory, major American allies, such as Japan, South Korea, Australia and key European nations, must coordinate closely and share detailed assessments of Trump’s approach to diplomacy. From there, they should divide the task of engaging Washington, working in concert to manage and mitigate those risks.

For America’s allies, managing the relationship with Washington has become as critical as shaping their strategies toward Beijing and Moscow.

In 2020, when Indian and Chinese troops clashed in a deadly confrontation along their disputed Himalayan border, the Trump administration offered India unprecedented military support. According to former Indian military officials, India used the U.S. intelligence network to obtain real-time tracking of Chinese troop movements.

Shivshankar Menon, a former Indian national security advisor, put it this way: “India’s greatest concern is that Mr. Trump might strike a big deal with China on trade and other matters, leaving India out in the cold. To prepare for such a risk, there is a growing sentiment within India that it should avoid provoking China excessively and instead seek coexistence.”

Whether this confrontation can be contained may hinge on a key test later this year: the Quad summit, to be hosted in India. There, Trump and Modi will have an opportunity to meet in person in an attempt to repair their fraying relationship.