Editorial:Trump @ UNGA: Power Is Not a Substitute for Strategy

 

President Donald Trump came before the United Nations this week with a message that has defined much of his second presidency: The United States is powerful, it intends to use that power, and it will not permit international institutions to place limits on American sovereignty.

There was little ambiguity in the message. Trump celebrated military strength, demanded greater control over America’s borders, challenged international institutions and portrayed American technological leadership as a strategic necessity. On Iran, Gaza, immigration, the International Criminal Court and artificial intelligence, the president returned repeatedly to the same principle: Nations must defend their own interests, and the United States must remain free to act.

That is a coherent philosophy. But coherence is not the same as effectiveness.

The question raised by this speech is not whether America should be strong. No serious foreign policy can begin from the premise that American power is irrelevant. The question is what that power is for — and whether it is being used in ways that make the United States more secure over the long term.

Trump's remarks on Iran illustrated the dilemma.

He reaffirmed that Iran cannot be allowed to obtain a nuclear weapon and paired the possibility of diplomacy with warnings of devastating military consequences.

Deterrence has always depended partly on credibility. But credibility is not measured only by the willingness to threaten force. It is also measured by the ability to achieve a political outcome once force has been used.

Wars can begin with clear objectives and end with consequences no government anticipated. The history of American foreign policy offers ample evidence that military superiority does not automatically translate into political control.

That is why diplomacy cannot simply be regarded as the alternative to strength. At its best, diplomacy is one of the instruments through which strength is converted into durable agreements.

The same distinction matters in Trump's approach to the United Nations.

The president has argued that international institutions have become too costly, too bureaucratic and too willing to intrude upon national sovereignty. His administration has pursued reductions in America's financial and institutional commitments to the United Nations.

There is nothing inherently wrong with demanding accountability from an international organization. The United Nations deserves scrutiny. Its bureaucracy can be inefficient, its member states often disagree and its institutions can fail to prevent the very conflicts they were created to address.

But the choice is not simply between an ineffective United Nations and an unconstrained America.

International institutions exist in part because some problems cannot be solved effectively by individual nations acting alone. Nuclear proliferation is one. Global pandemics are another. Artificial intelligence increasingly belongs on that list.

Trump's comments about AI therefore deserve particular attention. He emphasized American technological leadership and warned against international regulation that could restrain innovation.

The United States has obvious reasons to remain at the forefront of AI development. But technological leadership and international coordination are not necessarily opposing objectives. The challenge is to develop rules that protect security without freezing innovation.

That requires American leadership, not American isolation.

The president's immigration argument followed the same pattern. He presented control of the border as an essential expression of national sovereignty and rejected the notion that international norms should prevent governments from determining who may enter their territory.

A sovereign nation plainly has an interest in controlling its borders. But sovereignty also carries responsibilities. The United States, like other countries, must reconcile border enforcement with its legal and humanitarian obligations.

The difficult work of governing begins where slogans end.

That is ultimately what was missing from the most sweeping parts of Trump's speech: not conviction, but attention to the institutional machinery required to turn conviction into lasting results.

America can impose costs on adversaries. It can withdraw from agreements. It can reduce contributions to international organizations. It can threaten overwhelming force. It can use its enormous economic and technological advantages.

But power has a second dimension that is easier to overlook: the ability to persuade allies, maintain coalitions, preserve diplomatic channels and build institutions capable of surviving changes in leadership.

The United States did not become the world's leading power merely because it possessed the world's strongest military. It built alliances. It established institutions. It cultivated economic relationships. It persuaded other countries that American leadership could serve interests beyond America's own.

Trump's speech represents a different emphasis.

It places sovereignty before institutions, pressure before accommodation and national interest before international consensus.

There is a legitimate debate to be had over whether the postwar international system has become too cumbersome, too expensive or insufficiently accountable. But reforming that system and weakening it are not the same thing.

The distinction will matter greatly in the years ahead.

A stronger America is not necessarily an America that stands alone. Nor is international cooperation synonymous with surrendering sovereignty.

The enduring challenge of American foreign policy is to combine power with restraint, independence with alliances and national interest with the recognition that American security is inseparable from the wider world.

Trump's speech made clear which side of that debate he occupies.The more consequential question is what happens next.

History will not ultimately judge the speech by its applause lines, its threats or its declarations of American strength. It will judge the policy that follows — and whether that policy produces a world in which the United States is not merely more powerful, but more secure.

Power matters. But power, by itself, is not a strategy.