Liberalism in Crisis
The first quarter of the 21st century has seen the pillars of Western democracy face unprecedented challenges to unity, governance, and global leadership.
The United States of America, the United Kingdom, Canada, France, Germany, Japan, and South Korea were considered to be among the victors of the Cold War after the excision of the final vestiges of communism in Europe and the collapse of the Soviet Union—these nations are undisputed leaders in defending liberal values, the rule of law, and providing economic mobility and an unparalleled standard of living. Militarily, with the exceptions of Japan and South Korea, the others, three of which are nuclear powers, comprise the most powerful militaries in the North Atlantic Treaty Alliance, an alliance that President Joe Biden declared “the single, greatest, most effective defensive alliance in the history of the world.” Alongside their NATO commitments, the U.S., the U.K., and France boast permanent membership on the United Nations Security Council—effectively serving as the “world police,” much to the chagrin of intervention skeptics found on both the right and left sides of the political spectrum.
In late 1990, when the Iraqi despot Saddam Hussein invaded neighboring Kuwait, Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and President George H.W. Bush moved the British and American armies to Saudi Arabia to join their forces and employ their nation as a means of a staging ground while utilizing their power within the United Nations to push for Iraq’s immediate withdrawal from Kuwait and providing the justification for the utilization of “all necessary means” to compel them toward such. Assembling the largest coalition since World War II—with participants from all over; Japan, South Korea, Argentina, Portugal, Niger, and Senegal—the million-man army initiated Operation Desert Storm, repelling Saddam’s forces out of Kuwait and pushing them back into Iraq—after inflicting devastating losses in what is considered among the most one-sided wars in the history of mankind.
Mr. Bush, in a speech to Congress after Desert Storm, declared a "New World Order" to defend liberal principles—peace, freedom, and the rule of law. 28 nations, from six continents, had formed a coalition of collective resistance against Saddam's violation of international law, and Mr. Bush stated that Americans had “a unique responsibility to do the hard work of freedom.” The twentieth century had opened with most Western powers entering a period of “splendid isolation” and undergoing internal political turmoil, yet it had ended on the precipice, and with the promise of, a new era in which the international community and the “leaders of the free world” would utilize their strength not toward the imperialist ambitions of yesteryear but to promote stability, protect international law, and politically steer the world in a more liberal direction. Liberalism seemed dominant, with Bush’s successor, President Bill Clinton, describing nations as being more interested in the “the power of our example rather than the example of our power.”
As we enter the new year marking a quarter of the way into the 21st century, the hopes for Mr. Bush’s 'New World Order' seem to have been, at best, dampened, if not entirely relegated to fantasy and fiction. The aforementioned countries appear shackled with their own problems; the size of their militaries has dwindled, many have found that their economies have been stifled—the EU’s share of global GDP has been steadily declining, the United States and United Kingdom, France, Germany, and Canada have faced social unrest and anti-establishment sentiment, which has culminated in an inability to govern—something that seems to be plaguing much of the liberal world.
One of the top headlines of this week came from South Korea, where President Yoon Suk Yeol declared martial law, relenting after a series of protests, and was subsequently impeached, which culminated in yesterday’s six-hour standoff that saw his bodyguards and military troops prevent authorities from arresting him at his residence. South Korea has had the greatest struggle in transitioning to liberal democracy; many recall that martial law had been invoked in the past by its military junta, yet the turmoil was still unexpected and concerning to say the least.
In France, the situation has not been as dramatic, but the government has effectively fallen with their legislature controlled by far-left socialists and right-wing populists, much to the chagrin of the centrist President Emmanuel Macron. The French political crisis resulted in a “vote of no confidence” in December, the first to succeed in sixty years.
Liberalism, which had seemed so ascendant, has buckled in the wake of universally despised levels of immigration, rising deficits and a crisis over pensions with the “silver tsunami” of aging populations, dwindling workforces, unpopular foreign wars, and overall dissatisfaction with the status quo. Populism seems to be the language of the West now, and much of their population's frustrations are targeted at “globalists” and internationalists; the idea of a “New World Order” receiving praise today is laughable. This shift is making it quite hard for the Western countries to govern, and it’s having ramifications that ripple across the globe.
In Germany, with civil unrest hot after a terrorist attack perpetrated by a Saudi national at a Christmas market in Magdeburg, the “traffic-light coalition” of Chancellor Olaf Scholz and his social democratic party has collapsed; Germany is headed for elections this year. Alternative for Democratic Germany (AFD), a nationalist populist party on the right, campaigning on popular anti-migrant, anti-Islamic, and anti-socialist economic policy, has surged in polling—much to the chagrin of the German political establishment. It is unlikely that AFD can win outright; Germany’s conventional political parties would likely form a coalition explicitly to counter them, but that’ll do nothing, if not aggravate, the grievances of their supporters.
Incumbent parties around the world have been tossed out; the United Kingdom saw a landslide victory for the Labour party, which ousted the Conservatives after fourteen years of rule, the Democrats were swept out of the White House, Japan’s Liberal Democratic party faced a humiliating result, and after economic stagnation, a housing crisis, authoritarian crackdowns against political demonstrators during COVID, and an unprecedented amount of mass-migration Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s tenure in charge of Canada is coming to an undignified end, with his Liberal party projected to face an “extinction level” defeat—likely going from 160 seats to five, if they are so lucky. In fact, Mr. Trump has reveled in the precariousness of Mr. Trudeau’s situation and has taken to “trolling” him, calling the Canadian Prime Minister the “governor” of the “51st state” after his pilgrimage to Mar-a-Lago, angering many Canadians who view the attacks as distasteful and disrespectful of their sovereignty.
And yet, even when a new party wins, their popularity and success are not guaranteed—Sir Keir Starmer’s Labour Party won 411 seats, the second highest result for Labour in their history, while the Tory party’s share of 23 percent of the vote and 124 seats is the worst performance for the world’s oldest political party. Flash forward to the end of 2024, and Sir Keir’s inaugural period has ended with him as one of the most unpopular prime ministers in history, with frustration over illegal migration, economic hurdles, the freebies controversy (with Sir Keir, his wife Victoria, and Deputy Prime Minister Angela Rayner failing to declare gifts from Lord Alli) among other things.
The 2025 budget by Chancellor Rachel Reeves sent gilts rising, inflation forecasts ticking upward, and powered anger from the public as a series of austerity measures have been undertaken. Most notably, and politically costly, was the winter fuel payment for pensioners which has been removed. One would think that the collapse of Labour’s popularity would be a boon for the Tories, as it has been in the past, but Labour’s main threat comes from Nigel Farage, whose Reform party has surged, surpassing the Conservatives in membership in December. Mr Farage has promised to “change politics forever” and lead “a revolt against the political establishment.”
And no one can ignore the return of Donald Trump to the presidency of the United States. Mr. Trump is possibly the most polarizing figure to have ever occupied the White House, and his return, this time on the precipice of a hard-won mandate from the American public, has shaken up not just power brokers in Washington but friends and foes alike. Mr. Trump recently had a call with Sir Keir where he blasted his “windfall tax” on energy firms, which resulted in American company Apache recently exiting the North Sea. Mr Trump additionally declared that the U.K. should “get rid of windmills!”
Sir Keir has stated his hope to have a good working relationship with the president-elect, but it may be complicated by his appointment of Lord Peter Mandelson as ambassador to the United States, who has called Mr. Trump “little short of a white nationalist and racist,” mirroring comments by British Foreign Minister David Lammy, who referred to Mr. Trump as a “tyrant” and “xenophobe” during his tenure in the backbenches.
This is not to say that such harsh comments are solely coming from Britain or Labour; recent comments from Elon Musk, one of Mr. Trump’s closest advisors and financial backers, against Sir Keir and his government—most notably with Mr. Musk criticizing several members of the Labour ministry, including Sir Keir himself (during his tenure as head of the Crown Prosecution Service) for their failure to prosecute “Pakistani rape gangs”—and his support for Reform and Nigel Farage have drawn the scorn of Westminster. Mr. Trump himself has reportedly complained in private that his British counterpart is “very left-wing”; one should be thankful that he never dealt with Jeremy Corbyn.
So, amidst the largest European war since World War II between Russia and Ukraine, the violations of Iran in the Middle East, and the looming threat of China’s imperial ambitions toward Taiwan, 2025 will be the biggest trial of the “special relationship” between the United States and United Kingdom. Japan and South Korea are consumed by political and social crisis, and the European nations face a crisis of confidence in the viability of liberalism itself. The West will be challenged in the coming year and in this century by those geopolitical challenges and by those that have yet to manifest, but it is impossible to imagine that in the wake of this populist insurgency (many of these parties blame the foreign policy establishment of the West for instigating the Ukrainian war) that the Western alliance would be as united in commonality as it was during the Gulf War in 1991.
The “new world order,” once heralded as the triumphant force shaping a peaceful, stable, and prosperous world, now faces an era of unparalleled turbulence and self-doubt. With liberal democracy buckling under the weight of discontent, economic stagnation, and geopolitical fragmentation, the question is not merely whether the West can recover its unity and purpose but whether it has the will to redefine its place in an increasingly dangerous and divided world. For the West cannot lead the free world if they cannot lead themselves.