By Dr. Ashraf Zainabi
The question may sound provocative, even exaggerated. Yet in early 2026, it is being asked in newsrooms, universities, diplomatic circles, and living rooms across the world with growing seriousness. Is the United States entering a phase of unchecked assertiveness, militarily, politically, and institutionally, or are recent actions merely defensive responses to a changing world order? The answer lies somewhere between perception and power, between intent and consequence.
The most striking trigger for this debate has been the United States’ direct military action in Venezuela, culminating in the capture of a sitting president. Whatever one’s view of the Venezuelan government, this act marked a rare and dramatic escalation. In the modern era, powerful states have influenced outcomes through sanctions, diplomacy, covert operations, or proxy conflicts. Directly removing a head of state through military force is different. It sends a message not just to the target country, but to the entire international system. That message is unsettling: sovereignty appears conditional, and power appears decisive.
This action did not occur in isolation. Around the same time, the US announced its withdrawal from 66 international organisations, many linked to the United Nations system and global cooperation frameworks. Climate bodies, cultural institutions, labour forums, migration platforms, structures designed to manage shared global problems, were abruptly abandoned. The justification was familiar, national interest, sovereignty, inefficiency of multilateralism. But the signal was again unmistakable. The United States is stepping away from rule-based cooperation and leaning more heavily on unilateral power.
To many observers, this combination feels less like strategy and more like a rupture. Historically, American power was most effective when it combined force with legitimacy, when military strength was embedded within alliances, norms, and institutions. The post–World War II order, however flawed, rested on this balance. What we are witnessing now looks different. It resembles a belief that raw power alone can secure outcomes, while global rules are optional constraints.
This is where the charge of “rampage” enters the conversation. Critics argue that the US is increasingly comfortable acting first and justifying later. Venezuela today, Iran tomorrow, Cuba and Greenland, even allies are mentioned in speculative or rhetorical ways that would have been unthinkable a decade ago. While no confirmed military plans exist against many of these countries, the language matters. It normalises threat as policy. It lowers the threshold of acceptability for force.
Defenders of the US approach counter that the world has changed. They argue that multilateral institutions are slow, compromised, or captured by rival powers. They point to China’s rise, Russia’s aggression, and non-state threats as evidence that restraint invites weakness. From this perspective, decisive action is not recklessness but realism. Power, they say, must be demonstrated to be respected. There is logic in this argument, but also danger.
History repeatedly shows that power untempered by restraint breeds resistance. Military dominance can win battles, but it rarely wins legitimacy. Afghanistan and Iraq were not failures because of lack of force; they failed because force could not substitute for political consensus, social understanding, and moral credibility. The lesson many believed the US had learned was humility. The question now is whether that lesson is being unlearned.
The retreat from international organisations deepens this concern. Global challenges today, climate change, pandemics, migration, technological disruption, do not respond to missiles or sanctions. They demand coordination. When the world’s most powerful country withdraws from cooperative platforms, it does not weaken those problems; it weakens collective capacity to address them. Ironically, it also creates vacuums that others are eager to fill.
China understands this well. While the US pulls back from multilateral spaces, China steps in with infrastructure deals, development banks, and diplomatic engagement. Beijing avoids direct military confrontation with Washington not out of goodwill, but calculation. It builds influence quietly, economically, institutionally. The contrast is sharp, one power projecting force, another projecting presence.
This comparison is instructive. The United States remains militarily unmatched, but power in the 21st century is no longer measured only in aircraft carriers. It is measured in trust, networks, standards, and long-term partnerships. By prioritising unilateral action, the US risks winning moments while losing momentum.
So, is the US on a rampage? If by rampage we mean uncontrolled violence, the answer is no. There are still checks, Congress, courts, public opinion, allies, economic interdependence. War with major powers like China or Russia remains unthinkable precisely because the costs are catastrophic. The US is not blindly charging into global war.
But if by rampage we mean a growing reliance on coercion, threat, and withdrawal from shared rules, then the concern is valid. The pattern is visible. Military action where diplomacy once dominated. Exit where engagement once prevailed. Certainty where caution once existed.
The deeper issue is not America’s strength, but America’s confidence. A confident power shapes rules; an insecure one breaks them. A confident power leads institutions; an anxious one abandons them. Recent actions suggest not supreme confidence, but fear of decline, fear that time is no longer on America’s side.
This fear can be dangerous. It can turn rivals into enemies, competition into confrontation, and leadership into domination. It can also blind policymakers to the quiet costs of aggression, erosion of moral authority, alienation of allies, and the normalisation of force as first resort.
The world does not need another era of gunboat politics, even in modern form. It needs restraint backed by strength, not strength unleashed without restraint. It needs powerful nations to remember that leadership is not the ability to act alone, but the ability to bring others along.
The United States still has a choice. It can recalibrate, use its power to rebuild institutions, modernise cooperation, and address shared crises. Or it can continue down a path where force replaces persuasion and exits replace engagement.
History will decide whether this moment marks a temporary assertiveness or the beginning of a deeper rupture in global order. But the warning signs are already visible. When the strongest nation begins to act as if rules no longer matter, the world does not become safer. It becomes more fragile. And fragility, not weakness, is what turns power into peril.
Dr. Ashraf Zainabi is a teacher and researcher based in Gowhar Pora Chadoora J&K
8 January 2026
Source: countercurrents.org