For much of modern history, the United States of America stood as the gold standard of democratic evolution and global leadership. Emerging in the late 18th century from the Philadelphia Convention, the U.S. Constitution became the world’s first written national charter to codify governance through a separation of powers, checks and balances, and the bold experiment of federalism. Over time, America’s political system inspired countless nations seeking liberation from colonial yokes or tyrannical rule.
The American model had many merits: a robust federal government with limited but clearly defined powers, an independent judiciary empowered with judicial review (as famously laid down in Marbury v. Madison), and a relatively stable two-party system that ensured continuity and moderation. Unlike Britain’s Labour-Conservative or Canada’s Liberal-Conservative spectrum, the Democratic-Republican divide in the U.S. was long grounded in centrist pragmatism, with democracy—not ideology—serving as the common denominator.
Each president, in his way, left an imprint of substance—whether it was Lincoln preserving the Union, FDR’s New Deal, Truman’s post-war Marshall Plan, or Reagan’s fight against Soviet expansionism. Even unpopular decisions—such as involvement in Vietnam—were eventually corrected by an awakened civil society. The student-led protests that pressured successive administrations to withdraw troops were evidence of a vigilant citizenry that demanded accountability.
The strength of the American system also lay in its self-correction. From Watergate to Iran-Contra, institutions tested themselves. Nixon’s resignation under the threat of impeachment was a watershed moment, showcasing the might of public pressure, media scrutiny, and institutional integrity. President Gerald Ford’s controversial pardon may have pre-empted a long legal drama, but it also symbolized the system’s capacity for healing.
But somewhere along the way, this model of principled leadership, global stewardship, and democratic excellence started to unravel.
The first major sign of ideological erosion came when U.S. administrations began flouting global consensus on existential issues—most notably, climate change. The refusal to ratify or uphold international climate commitments, like the Kyoto Protocol and later the Paris Agreement, signalled a retreat not just from global leadership but from scientific and moral responsibility. When President Donald Trump pulled the U.S. out of the Paris Climate Accord in 2017, it sent shockwaves worldwide. The country that once pioneered space exploration and environmental legislation was now denying basic climate science.
Can a mature democracy afford to indulge in such myopic policymaking? As glaciers melt, sea levels rise, and extreme weather events wreak havoc, America’s abdication from climate leadership looks not only irresponsible but self-destructive.
Worse still, the rise of extremist rhetoric, populism, and intellectual bankruptcy within American politics has severely undermined the very democratic virtues it once exported. From Capitol Hill insurrections to book bans and cultural purges, the ideological civil war tearing through the American body politic is no longer a domestic concern—it has global consequences. U.S. foreign policy, once a compass for liberal democracies, is now disoriented and reactionary, swinging wildly between isolationism and adventurism.
Foreign affairs today are dictated less by principle and more by pressure groups, corporate lobbies, and domestic political calculations. Be it the disastrous withdrawal from Afghanistan, the dithering over Ukraine, or the economic war with China, Washington’s decisions increasingly lack coherence, vision, or long-term strategy. The State Department, once staffed by career diplomats with deep regional expertise, now often mirrors partisan agendas rather than objective diplomacy.
Even allies are uncertain. European partners no longer trust America’s consistency, Middle Eastern nations hedge their bets with Russia and China, and climate-vulnerable countries openly criticize American hypocrisy. Washington speaks of democracy but embraces autocrats. It preaches free trade while erecting tariffs. It condemns censorship abroad while polarizing speech at home. The gap between what America says and what it does has never been wider.
The rot runs deeper still. The American electorate, once heralded for its civic responsibility, is now split into echo chambers of misinformation and performative outrage. “Yatha Raja, Tatha Praja” — as the king, so the people. A population fed on algorithmic hysteria and political sensationalism can no longer distinguish between leadership and lunacy.
The tragedy of America is not just its fall from grace. It’s that a nation so admired for its innovation, governance, and idealism has surrendered itself to idiocracy. Once a lamp lighting the way for the world, it now flickers amid a storm of its own making—confused, angry, and increasingly irrelevant.
The world cannot afford an America that doesn’t know what it stands for. And unless America reclaims its sense of purpose, honesty, and responsibility, it will not just lose its moral authority—it will lose the world it once helped build. (The author is a student of Defence Studies and Security, took her doctorate from prestigious Osmania University and last served as Asst Professor at Sardar Patel College).
