By James Aitchison

How much power should any nation have?  And what responsibilities, if any, come with that power?

During the Cold War, the United States was a benevolent hegemon, helping its allies rebuild after World War II, and founding the global institutions that offered a buffer against future wars.  Significantly, the United States was the only global hegemon to stand against the Soviet Russia and later China.

That the United States has become more transactional and predatory is a matter of fact.  It is indeed a case of “what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is negotiable”.

Confronted with this new reality, middle powers such as Canada, Australia, Japan and India, as well as European nations, seek new alliances and regional support.  Brazil, Indonesia, Saudi Arabia and Turkey are all growing in terms of economic and political weight; while they actively seek new geopolitical partnerships, they are still reliant on the United States.

However, the global certainty is gone.  The United States has pulled up the drawbridge, at the same time playing hardball with tariffs and trade.  Democracies sustained by the rule of law now face a dangerous world where the traditional global hegemon is burning down the house.  In short, the United States is exploiting unilateral power without responsibility.

Given that scenario, do we now face a multipolar world?  

The answer, statistically, is no.  No other nation can rival the United States in terms of economic power and military might.  Putin’s Russia is playing a cat-and-mouse ground war in Ukraine; after four years of conflict, Russia has failed to gain substantial advantage.  And while Russia may perceive itself as a hegemon, it falls short.  In fact, it is far weaker than its younger Communist brother, China.

China has closed the distance between itself and the United States.  Estimates place its economy as only one-third less than that of the United States.  Certainly its military has grown in astonishing leaps and bounds, and its nuclear arsenal has reportedly tripled in size in six years.  But is China seeking to become a global hegemon?

It claims that its base-building activities in the South China Sea are purely defensive.  Chinese history would support that intention; China has often been invaded, but has never invaded its neighbours.  It is successfully lifting its people out of poverty and building a middle class at home; by all accounts, life for most Chinese has never been better.  Would the authorities risk destroying everything they have achieved by starting a war with the United States?

On current predictions, the United States will soon lose its edge over China.  China’s long march to economic, technological and military superiority will result in a new global equilibrium.  How will a United States, riven with social discord and narrowly-focused leadership, respond?  It could be argued that Taiwan holds the key, and American ambiguity remains as ever the only deterrent.

​Hegemony — the predominance of one state over others — has a fascinating history.  The lesson drawn is that no empire or hegemon lasts forever.  From ancient Sumerians, Greeks and the Roman Empire, to the nineteenth century when the Great Powers exercised hegemony over Africa, Asia and Latin America through European colonialism, invasions, rebellions and wars brought empires to a close.  Today, we can barely conceive that Spain and Portgual were once powerful hegemons, or that Napoleonic France was once the hegemon of continental Europe.  Every schoolboy in the early twentieth century can remember how their atlas boasted British red splashed across one quarter of the world’s land and population.  Britain was arguably the most successful hegemon in history.  

When will the Chinese Century replace the American Century?  Has the United States reached its zenith as a hegemon?

Or will we see a world dominated by two global hegemons — the United States and China — and two regional hegemons, Russia and Germany?

As the ancient Chinese saying goes, we live in interesting times.