The Farce of Global Order and the Collapse of Illusions

Today, with a solemnity bordering on the liturgical, there is widespread discourse regarding the purported 'end of the international order.' Diplomats, analysts, and opinion leaders lament the erosion of a system purportedly constructed after World War II, founded upon clear rules, multilateral cooperation, and an almost sacred mutual respect among states. However, this narrative, reiterated ad nauseam in global forums, fails to withstand an honest examination of history or the stark reality of recent events. What we are witnessing is not the collapse of an established order, but rather that of a collective fantasy.

The so-called liberal international order was never universal, neutral, or genuinely binding for the powers that established it. From its inception, this system functioned as a pragmatic arrangement for the war's victors, cloaked in legal and moral rhetoric to legitimize power dynamics that are, at their core, profoundly asymmetrical. As Hans Morgenthau aptly cautioned, international law never possessed the requisite strength to supersede power politics; at best, it served to structure its outward presentation and render it palatable for public discourse.

Historically, the United States has never behaved as an actor genuinely constrained by multilateral norms when its strategic interests were at stake. Episodes such as Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, and Kuwait should not be interpreted as 'deviations from course' or isolated errors, but rather as the recurrent manifestation of a clear power strategy. The UN Security Council, frequently lauded as the cornerstone of this order, was consistently respected only when its resolutions affirmed decisions already made in Washington. When the body became an impediment, it was simply disregarded, revealing that the exception, in reality, has always been the norm.

The Return to Realism and the Geopolitics of Force

Russia, for its part, has never deigned to feign adherence to universal rules. The invasion of Ukraine does not signify a rupture with the international order but rather its most brutal reaffirmation. It represents the logical continuation of a foreign policy predicated on spheres of influence, coercion, and the pursuit of strategic security. As John Mearsheimer observes, great powers do not tolerate threats in their immediate vicinities, and no institutional architecture or paper treaty possesses the capacity to alter this fundamental tenet of international politics.
Even the Western response to the war in Ukraine, framed as a heroic defense of the “rules-based order,” underscores the fragility of the legal argument. The selective application of sanctions, convenient legal exceptions, and the opportune relaxation of principles demonstrate that norms remain valid only in accordance with the identity and power of those who violate them. The norm, therefore, lacks universal character; it is strictly geopolitical. In the South China Sea, this pattern of power is distinctly replicated: Beijing's gradual and methodical advancement, involving the construction of artificial islands and the militarization of trade routes, disregards international arbitral tribunal decisions without incurring tangible consequences. Where sufficient power exists, law becomes optional.

Within this starkly realistic scenario, Europe emerges as the quintessential portrayal of strategic impotence masquerading as moral virtue. The bloc has constructed a sophisticated market but has outsourced its security and fragmented its foreign policy to the extent of forfeiting any autonomous capacity for power projection. During periods of tranquility, European discourse is replete with common values; however, in the face of genuine crises — be they energy-related, migratory, or military — each nation acts in isolation, thereby demonstrating that European unity is purely circumstantial.

The Fragility of Middle Powers and the Brazilian Case

It is within this geopolitical chessboard of giants that middle powers unveil their most profound limitations. Incapable of dictating rules and reluctant to bear the costs of effective leadership, these nations precariously oscillate between rhetorical sovereignty and defensive multilateralism. They extol autonomy during periods of economic prosperity but desperately appeal for international cooperation at the first indication of crisis — not out of ideological conviction, but due to absolute material necessity.

Brazil fits perfectly within this framework of hesitation. Lacking the material power necessary to shape the global order and internal cohesion to lead truly impactful coalitions, the country frequently resorts to an excessively declarative diplomacy. Our foreign policy is characterized by strategic ambiguity that masks the absence of clear priorities, advocating multilateralism less as an instrument of power projection and more as a shield against our own irrelevance on the world stage.
As Raymond Aron warned, middle powers that refuse to acknowledge the relentless logic of power inevitably become subordinate to it. In a competitive world, those who lack the courage to define and pursue their own interests ultimately serve the interests of others. Underlying this dynamic of submission is the absence of global leadership capable of articulating coherent national projects that can withstand international competition.

As Henry Kissinger observed, robust international orders are sustainable only when they reflect a balance of power accepted by the system's principal actors. The post-war period was never such a balanced consensus; it was, in fact, a prolonged era of American hegemony disguised beneath the veneer of normative universalism. Now that this hegemony wanes, the moral veneer rapidly dissipates. The "rules-based order" has consistently operated selectively: human rights and sovereignty were applied as fluid criteria, invoked against adversaries and relativized concerning allies. This is not a matter of occasional hypocrisy, but rather a fundamental strategic coherence.

The current juncture is not a historical rupture but rather a revelation of truth. International politics is merely reverting to its most candid form: open competition for power, security, and influence. The widespread discomfort we experience stems less from the world's brutality than from the collapse of the comforting narrative that allowed elites to feign that rules had supplanted force. Perhaps the true contemporary challenge is not to salvage anemic institutions or restore fictitious consensuses, but rather to abandon the infantilization of global discourse. The world has never been governed by good intentions — and insisting on this fantasy merely renders us vulnerable in an environment that demands, above all, realism and preparedness to confront realities as they are.