For decades, global politics has been understood through the prism of hegemony. The Cold War offered a bipolar struggle, while the post–1991 era witnessed the rise of American unipolarity, proclaimed as the “end of history.” Today, however, the world is entering an entirely different phase: not the replacement of one superpower by another, but the end of superpowers altogether. The twenty-first century is shaping into a landscape where regional and great powers coexist, align, and compete in a fragmented, islanded system with no universal hegemon.
The erosion of American primacy is not simply the result of China’s rise or Russia’s persistence. It is, more fundamentally, the product of America’s internal contradictions. The United States once attracted the world not only through wealth or military superiority but also through its liberal values. During the Cold War, America’s strength lay in presenting itself as a land of opportunity where race, religion, and background did not determine one’s prospects. It magnetized global talent, symbolizing liberty and pluralism. Today that magnetism has faded. Building walls on the Mexican border, restricting immigration, and policing campus speech in the name of political orthodoxy are symptoms of a nation abandoning its own liberal ideals. When U.S. leaders threaten foreign students with expulsion for protesting Israel, they reveal the hollowness of the very freedoms that once distinguished America from its rivals. The superpower is corroding from within, less because others are rising than because it has ceased to embody the values that sustained its appeal.
China, for its part, is undoubtedly ascending. Its Belt and Road Initiative spans continents, its economy may soon eclipse that of the United States, and its technological reach is expanding rapidly. Yet China is not becoming a hegemon in the American sense. Unlike Washington during its height, Beijing does not seek to export an ideology or impose a universal model of governance. Its approach is pragmatic: securing markets, ensuring energy flows, and weaving interdependence. China may become the strongest economy in the world, but it will not transform into the kind of global superpower that America once was. It is building influence without offering a doctrine, and in doing so confirms that the era of universal hegemony is ending.
What is emerging instead is what Amitav Acharya has described as a post-hegemonic order, with three levels of power: regional powers, great powers, and, in the past, superpowers. The last category is fading. The United States remains formidable but can no longer dominate the international system. China and Russia are important players but constrained in reach and legitimacy. In West Asia, states like Iran are consolidating as regional poles, while Africa and Latin America are producing actors unwilling to subordinate themselves to a single bloc. Power is no longer centralized; it is dispersed across multiple nodes that operate like islands in a turbulent sea.
This “islanded” order has profound implications. During the unipolar moment, global politics revolved around a single axis: align with or against the United States. In the coming decades, states will enjoy greater maneuverability. They will be able to build ties with multiple centers of power simultaneously, forging coalitions without being absorbed into one empire. The Middle East, for example, illustrates this vividly. Iran, China, Russia, and others cooperate selectively, while Persian Gulf states balance between Washington and Beijing. Africa increasingly partners with both Western and Asian powers, not subordinating itself to one. Latin America is exploring new avenues of regionalism, drawing on histories of resisting imperial control. These are the contours of a world no longer governed by a hegemon.
For the Global South, this transition represents both an opportunity and a risk. On one hand, it opens space for sovereignty and autonomy: states can choose their alignments, pursue regional integration, and reject dependency on a single power. On the other, fragmentation may mean instability. Without a dominant arbiter, conflicts risk becoming more protracted, as competing powers provide backing to opposing sides. The absence of a hegemon can liberate, but it can also destabilize.
Yet one lesson is clear: the American century is over, and a Chinese century will not replace it. The twenty-first century will be defined instead by plural centers of power, each shaping its sphere without commanding the globe. In this environment, ideological exports matter less than pragmatic coalitions; domination matters less than survival. Iran, China, Russia, Brazil, South Africa, and others will act as islands of influence in a system too complex to be ruled by one.
The term “superpower” may soon belong to history books. What remains are great powers and regional powers, interacting in a mosaic of shifting alliances. The United States hastens its decline by betraying the liberal principles that once undergirded its strength. China rises, but without a universalizing project, ensuring that it cannot assume the American mantle. The rest of the world, meanwhile, discovers room to maneuver. In this plural order, no one writes the rules alone. The age of superpowers is ending; the age of islanded powers has begun.
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