Ah, America you beacon of hope, strength and resilience, how successfully have you sold us your importance. This grand idea that you, and only you, are the special one. The exceptional one. The shining city on the hill where any price, any burden shall be paid to preserve mankind’s essential freedoms, not just for you alone, but for the whole human race. For centuries, we non-Americans have grown accustomed to your leaders boldly claiming that America is the greatest nation on earth. Aside from some terrorists, a few failed states and the occasional anti-American stance in some woke European country, nobody bats an eye when your president pompously states: “America is the most powerful idea in the history of the world.” I mean, seriously, who writes such a thing?
It may come as a surprise but “American Exceptionalism” is actually a thing. The Puritans, who settled in New England in the 17th century, believed they were creating a “city upon a hill”, a model society based on religious principles that would serve as an example to the world. This idea of a divinely ordained mission infused the nascent American identity with a sense of purpose and destiny. The American Revolution further solidified the notion of exceptionalism. The successful revolt against British rule was seen not just as a political victory but as a validation of the unique American commitment to liberty, democracy, and self-governance. This narrative has embedded itself deep within the American psyche. The United States, the story goes, is not just another country on the global stage; it is the stage itself.
Much like the belief in American Exceptionalism, there is another, very similar concept that has shaped the American spirit: “Manifest Destiny”. Coined by journalist John L. O’Sullivan in 1845, Manifest Destiny declared that the United States was destined to expand across the North American continent, spreading its values of democracy, freedom, and civilization. This belief fuelled the westward expansion that defined much of American history, leading to the annexation of vast territories and the murder and displacement of its indigenous populations, both man and animal.
Manifest Destiny was more than just a slogan; it was a call to action that propelled a nation to expand beyond its natural borders. The promise of new frontiers offered not only land and resources but also a stage to showcase the American spirit. While it would be historically misguided to draw direct comparisons between the ideals of Manifest Destiny and Hitler’s doctrine of “Lebensraum”, living space, it’s impossible to ignore the stark parallels of conquest and genocide. America, seen through this lens, reveals a profound contradiction: its self-image as a benevolent force clashes dramatically with the often-self-serving nature of its expansionist actions. It’s a narrative filled with ambition and violent conflict, driving home the complex legacy of a nation constantly striving to reconcile its lofty ideals with its imperfect reality.
After World War II, the United States emerged as a global superpower, championing democracy and capitalism during the Cold War. However, the American war in Vietnam, interventions in almost every country in Latin America, and the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan exposed the contradictions between America’s professed values and its actions. These interventions, justified by the rhetoric of spreading democracy and combating communism, drugs or terrorism, frequently resulted in long-term instability and suffering for the local populations, undermining the idea of a moral and exceptional America.
American presidents have dealt in different ways with their calling as leaders of the free world. While Ronald Reagan completely identified with his role as commander in chief of the free world, others, like Lyndon B. Johnson, were not so sure. During his tenure, Johnson often complained about the disproportionate attention that foreign policies (mainly the American war in Vietnam) demanded of him. Yet, whether they privately embraced the idea or not, publicly they mostly fell in line with what Barack Obama coined the “Washington playbook”. In his eight years in office Obama, never a guy to show true candour, gave a surprising peak behind the political machinations in Washington. In an April 2016 interview with the American magazine The Atlantic, Obama referred to the conventional set of strategies, tactics, and assumptions that often guide U.S. foreign policy decisions, particularly the tendency to rely on and exert military force, as the Washington playbook.
Military interventions in South-America, the Middle East, Central Asia and South-East Asia would all have been perfect opportunities for an American president to question the unwarranted role of chief commander of the world. Yet, Obama decided to raise the issue by failing to follow through on the threat of military action against the Assad regime in Syria. According to the Washington playbook elites, the Obama administration sent a message – don’t do stupid shit – of inconsistency and reluctance to act, which in their minds damaged America’s standing in the world and ultimately contributed to greater instability in the Middle East.
Had Obama been fundamentally opposed to the idea of American Exceptionalism and had he been intrinsically critical of America’s role as the world’s super cop, his decision not to strike the Assad regime militarily, might have had a much more lasting effect. Instead, his administration opted for a rather lacklustre foreign policy, which can only be described as being too interventionist and not doing enough at the same time. Obama first escalated the war in Afghanistan and then set a timeline for the withdrawal of troops. He first ended the Iraq war in 2011 and then re-engaged with military airstrikes in 2014. He preferred being more judicious and sceptical about the use of military force, yet ordered more drone strikes in Pakistan, Yemen, and Somalia, than any other American president before or after him.
Soon, the Americans will choose another president. Their 2024 election is viewed by many as the mother of all elections. Seismic shifts are expected to happen. Perhaps even a civil war. Yet, it is quite likely that the election will proceed peacefully and in an orderly fashion. That is, if Kamala Harris wins. Then, things will continue much as they always have. President Harris will appear amenable to European values. She will show her support for Ukraine (since it is part of Europe), and she will rub shoulders with European leaders. She will reaffirm her unwavering commitment to NATO and align her economic and environmental policies with those of Europe as best she can.
She will also start a proxy war in the South China Sea, provoking China into increasingly violent altercations. She will support and continue her country’s antagonistic stance towards Iran. In line with her hawkish approach towards the usual suspects, she will impose draconian, unprecedented tariffs on trade with China, as well as with the European Union. Although an immigrant herself in a country filled with immigrants, Harris won’t be able to resist her nation’s enduring need for a new war narrative. Like the American wars on communism, drugs, and terror before her, inspired by Manifest Destiny and the distorted idea of American Exceptionalism, Harris will feel compelled to satisfy her bloodthirsty countrymen by declaring a war on immigration. Last but certainly not least, Harris will be as obsessed with Israel as every one of her predecessors, further tightening the bonds between the United States and Israel with even more money and weapons than the $8.7 billion military aid package she approved as vice president in early October 2024 amid escalating tensions in the Middle East. This, at a time when a bit of restraint, a little opposition to the Washington playbook, might have been the better and certainly more “world leaderly” option.
Now, if Trump wins, preferably fair and square, the world might start to look truly different. With Donald Trump and his running mate J.D. Vance in the White House, they are poised to deny the existence of a divine and unquestionable bond between America and Europe, disrupting a long-standing tradition of North Atlantic alliance. That’s what one might call a seismic shift! Trump has managed to create his own doctrine. Whether by accident or by design, he has crafted a doctrine, as any president should. President Truman had the Truman Doctrine, communicating that the U.S. was ready to assist countries threatened by Soviet-backed communism. The Carter Doctrine proclaimed U.S. determination to defend the Persian Gulf. The Reagan Doctrine signaled U.S. intent to support “freedom fighters” against Soviet-backed regimes. While many believe Trump isn’t capable of having a doctrine, given his perceived vacuity, he nonetheless has one: the Trump doctrine of withdrawal.
Richard Haass, an American diplomat, author, and foreign policy expert, has played a prominent role in shaping U.S. foreign relations. As president of the Council on Foreign Relations, Haass wields considerable influence among the Washington elite. In fact, Haass is the Washington elite. Make no mistake, Haass is convinced that Obama’s failure to act militarily in Syria is the primary reason the Middle East has spiraled out of control. Richard Haass believes that withdrawal is central to the Trump presidency. He states: “Trump has pulled the country out of every manner of multilateral agreement and institution overseas in the name of going it alone.” For Haass, American Exceptionalism creates an obligation to the world, to save it from darker forces. Haass argues: “Going it alone makes little sense in a world increasingly defined by global challenges that can best be met through collective, not individual, action.” Haass’ definition of “collective” is not mine. It certainly wasn’t during the invasions of Iraq or Afghanistan. Haass is incapable of seeing America as the darker force itself. The reason for this, of course, is that Haass himself is a believer in American Exceptionalism. His critique on Trump’s doctrine of withdrawal primarily stems from self-interest. Haass: “Evidence is scant that withdrawal has paved the way to something better; to the contrary, as a doctrine, it is leading to diminished U.S. influence, prosperity, and security.”
I can absolutely relate to Vance’s indignation regarding President Biden’s focus on the war in Ukraine, a country Vance doesn’t care about. Vance candidly stated: “I’ve got to be honest with you, I don’t really care what happens to Ukraine one way or another.” Without sounding spiteful, I don’t really care what happens in the United States one way or another either. Why should I? Why is it my concern that lawmakers in Florida are banning books like The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood and The Bluest Eye by Nobel Prize-winning author Toni Morrison? Why should I care if nearly a quarter of American states have imposed near-total bans on abortion? Why should it bother me that millions of people in the United States view the January 6th attack on their executive branch as nothing more than their God-given right, better yet, their sacred duty? Let them have the leaders they deserve.
As a European, I should be concerned about Ukraine. Europeans ought to feel the urge to contribute more weapons and funding to Ukraine, yet we let the Americans handle it for us. The stubborn persistence of American Exceptionalism, despite its complete and utter intellectual bankruptcy, as demonstrated by the war in Vietnam, is an exhausting saga. Europe’s continued reliance on this myth is a blend of historical inertia and strategic convenience. However, with the possibility of another Trump term and his Withdrawal Doctrine, Europe has an opportunity, no, a duty, to embrace its own exceptionalism. By stepping out of America’s shadow, Europe can forge a future defined by its own values, strengths, and aspirations. Perhaps, in this act of defiance, the myth of American Exceptionalism will finally find its well-deserved rest.