Saint Andrew’s Church, Kyiv, Ukraine. Photo: Nicolas Tenzer, May 9, 2025
My intention here is not to summarize my latest book, published in French on April 23, 2025, for my English-speaking audience. I hope that it will soon be translated into several other languages. Fin de la politique des grandes puissances (The End of Great Power Politics) has a subtitle, Moyens et petits États à la conquête du monde (Small and Medium-Sized States Conquering the World), which is like the action-oriented counterpart to a sometimes provocative observation of a current trend. I point out in the book that talking about a trend means evoking a possibility, not predicting a certain future. A strong hypothesis is not a guaranteed prediction. I believe that international analysts would have little credibility if they made global predictions. At best, there are quasi-certainties about the behavior of regimes—nothing more. The role of actors in history is either to counteract strong trends, or at least to weaken them, or, on the contrary, to push them forward in a proactive manner. This is what I suggest in this book. Since the gradual marginalization of the major powers is not a prophecy, it cannot be self-fulfilling!
The publication of my new book in France has sparked interest and controversy. I have already given two long interviews in the French press—in Le Monde and L’Express—and one in the Belgian press—in the leading magazine L’Écho—and the book has been discussed in several television interviews on major national channels and in radio programs. I have devoted half a chapter to France and the United Kingdom, but I have also dedicated a specific chapter to Europe, Asia, Africa, the Middle East and, for reasons that are in some ways opposite, to the United States and China. It was also obvious to me that I should reserve a specific chapter for Ukraine as a model for the nation of the future. Ukraine also forms a bridge to my previous book, Notre Guerre. Le crime et l’oubli : pour une pensée stratégique (Our War: Crime and Oblivion: Re-framing Strategic Thinking), which has already been published in several editions in French and a very accessible paperback version was also released five weeks ago.
However, the link between the two books, the second being a complement to the first, goes, in my view, far beyond Ukraine. Our War was certainly a book, as its title suggests, about the Russian war against Ukraine and a call to the Allies to take decisive action to defeat Russia—which, to tell the truth, we are still waiting for. It was also a book that sought to analyze Russian ideology and the roots of its policy of annihilation. It included an entire chapter on what I believe should be the strategy of the democratic powers toward Russia. But the book went much further than that; otherwise, it would have been shorter and remained a limited advocacy piece. Its main purpose was to contribute to a more accurate understanding of international relations in light of the errors of judgment and analysis that have once again led to disaster. The failure to counter Russia from the outset of its mass crimes and the attempts to establish relations with it based on supposed trust and even economic and trade ties will remain not only a mark of infamy but also of stupidity.
Russia’s total war against Ukraine was not only a storm warning for strategic thinking, forcing its practitioners to completely rethink certain notions they thought were well established – erroneously, moreover, because these “errors” were in fact omissions of old lessons that had been repressed out of fear. Once again, they had to think on the scale of the Holocaust, something that traditional analysts of international relations have often been reluctant to do—and often incapable of doing. I also outlined in a specific chapter of Notre guerre the contours of a possible political, legal, economic, and commercial reorganization of the world. My basic certainty was that the final victory of Ukraine and the defeat of Russia could not remain isolated events. They would necessarily involve essential revisions, some elements of which I put down on paper. The aim of Fin de la politique des grandes puissances is to go further. In Notre guerre, I emphasized concrete dimensions, but without mentioning the relationships between the powers and their hierarchy. I do so here directly.
I will not summarize the main theses of the book here, but will respond to three questions raised by some readers: the question of the credibility of a possible marginalization of the current great powers; their capacity for resistance thanks to the support of medium-sized powers that are likely to remain revisionist; and the concrete nature of the functioning of this new order, which I have called G-infinity—it could also be called G-indefinite, as has been suggested to me—and its potential durability.
Former great powers that have been marginalized or thwarted
In this new book, I hardly mention Russia. I only refer to it in my chapter on Ukraine to mention the erasure of its past literature, contaminated by infamy, and its future inability to produce anything other than a literature of obsession and guilt, at least in the artistic field. This is what happened to Germany in the aftermath of the Nazi period. It is difficult to imagine the Russia of tomorrow producing “art for art’s sake” with a renewed innocence after the mass crimes it has committed and the weight of guilt on every Russian conscience. It would be indecent. Will it even be possible, let alone permissible, for a writer to write in Russian tomorrow? Some Russian writers in exile are beginning to take a dislike to their own language and, beyond that, to understand that the perpetuation of Russian, particularly in the territories of the former Tsarist or Soviet empire, constitutes a form of imperial domination. The Russian language has, in fact, contributed to a form of oppression. I therefore do not see how any artist, except perhaps a Putin supporter, could continue to use Russian as their language, nor how any intellectual, liberal or democratic, could defend the Russian language—it would take decades of atonement.
But if I mention Russia so little here, it is mainly for another reason. I stand by the observation I made in a book published in January 2011 (Le monde à l’horizon 2030. La règle et le désordre—The World in 2030. The Rule and the Disorder): Russia is doomed to disappear as a great power within the next twenty years at most—it no longer has the economic, social, cultural, scientific, or demographic attributes to remain one. Its collapse is written into the political choices it has made over the past twenty-five years. It will be difficult to reverse, even if a regime change were to occur tomorrow, which seems highly unlikely. Admittedly, the damage that Russia will cause if it is not stopped before its final collapse is considerable—we have only a glimpse of this in the total war it is waging against Ukraine. A nihilistic power doomed to destruction and to the suppression of the future of other peoples, it cannot have a future of its own and will go as far as it can. That does not make it a great power.
The situation in the United States is not comparable, but it is doubtful that it will remain a great power in the coming decades. Here too, a profound change of course is needed, not only in relation to Trump’s policies, but also in relation to the legacy left by Obama, Biden and even George W. Bush. Trump can certainly contribute to accelerating this loss of status because of the damage he has done to science, culture, and the few elements that might have seemed exemplary in the “American model.” He can hammer the final nail into the coffin of a confidence that has already been largely eroded over more than a decade. But America’s withdrawal or semi-withdrawal from world affairs is much older, even if Trump has added a new element: complicity with the free world's main enemy.
Therefore, the primary issue is not whether Washington will lose its economic and technological supremacy to China, among others, even if this is not insignificant. There are, moreover, solid reasons for not accepting this hypothesis. In other words, America may remain the world’s leading economic power and even stay dominant, albeit less and less exclusively, in science and technology, and even retain the largest number of globally renowned think tanks in the field of international relations, without being the decisive or determining power in geostrategic terms. In short, if the United States no longer wants to play a global role in countering the main threats to democracies, similar to the role it played, albeit with some initial reluctance, during the two world wars or, in terms of deterrence, by providing a once credible guarantee to NATO member countries, what will be the scope of its real role? In my book, I logically raise the question of their potential replacement and explain why it cannot or can no longer be a single power alone.
The hypothesis of a decline in China’s status as a great power is the one that has raised the most questions—this observation is certainly the most counterintuitive of all. The others, concerning Russia and the United States, were easily accepted. In the chapter I devoted to China, I make no secret of its economic, scientific, technological, and military power, even though I also emphasize its structural weaknesses, which could also lead to a reversal of its trajectory. Above all, on the political front, I also point to the growing opposition to its predatory, dependent, and influential policies.
Can a power that is viewed with growing hostility or fear remain dominant on the political stage? Organized responses to its political influence, which I can already discern, albeit still barely perceptible and certainly not sufficient, will also have consequences in economic and technological terms and in terms of influence. We are far from having such a secure Chinese power in the medium term, even if today it seems to have scored several points through the dependencies it has managed to create. Furthermore, presenting China as an unstoppable power is a common intellectual fallacy that consists of extrapolating trends without perceiving anything that could counteract them or, above all, imagining a realistic strategy that could divert it from its course.
The reality is that, like Russia until recently—and we cannot say that this short-sighted policy is completely behind us— Beijing has been able to increase its influence, albeit in different ways, over several regions of the world and countries, from Africa to Central Asia, Latin America to Europe, and the Middle East to the Asia-Pacific region, due to the weakness of the countermeasures, mainly European and American, to its expansionist policy. I remember several security conferences in the late 2010s and early 2020s where the tendency among analysts and even government officials was to welcome the One Belt One Road initiative—which has since run out of steam. The countermeasures adopted by the EU with its Global Gateway program remain insufficient in terms of volume, and it is difficult to assess their effectiveness at this stage, even if the idea behind them was fundamental. Many capitals also remain very quiet on Beijing’s military aid to Moscow in its war against Ukraine.
However, we can also see encouraging signs in the early stages of a European strategy, such as Ursula von der Leyen’s “de-risking” approach and the awareness of the need for strategic autonomy in terms of technology and security. Europe, Japan, Australia, but also certain countries in Africa, Latin America, Asia, and even the Middle East, have the means to exert influence to prevent the emergence of a world governed by Chinese norms. One of the aims of my book was to show what such a strategy might consist of and what its ultimate goals are.
The resistance of the old world?
To speak of the end of great power politics was certainly, for me, to put forward a possible, even probable, hypothesis, not an absolutely certain prediction. It was above all to encourage medium-sized powers, which are essentially democratic, and small states with a keen awareness of their historical role—for many of them, it is also a question of survival—to think about a strategy. Moreover, in terms of simple method, rejecting all determinism and insisting on the role of peoples and leaders in history precludes, by definition, making overly confident predictions. There is never progress in historical consciousness, and no one has found a vaccine against the worst catastrophes because there cannot be one. Betting on the intelligence of leaders, including democratic ones, is risky after all!
In some discussions about my book, I have been asked whether I consider the possibility of some form of resistance from the old world of great powers, with the extreme disorganization that this would cause and the terrible insecurity that would result. They argued that Moscow, due to the cowardice and stupidity of Western governments, might not be defeated in Ukraine and could benefit, within a few years, from a return to business as usual on the part of several NATO countries. This would certainly not lead to Russia’s “greatness,” which is materially impossible, but to its survival and the lasting preservation of its power of destruction. Europe’s pusillanimity would also lead certain European countries, governed by the far right, and several in the South, to maintain cooperative relations with Russia, given their deep contempt for liberal powers. China could also find little opposition to its policy of expansion and predation. As for the United States, whose successors to Trump would continue on the path of illiberalism and contempt for national and international rule of law, they would certainly lose attractiveness and prestige, but would retain a global role, not as a policeman and guarantor of a minimum of world order, but as an anarchic disruptor in the name of their interests, at least their supposed short-term interests.
In such a scenario, Europe would unravel and centrifugal tendencies would prevail. It would struggle to find a consensus for massive and coordinated rearmament. Its relations with other parts of the world with which it could have formed a bloc, in Africa, Asia and a wider Europe, would remain marked by an “every man for himself” attitude, and it would not have the critical mass to stand up to the United States and China and counterbalance their economic and, therefore, diplomatic and influence power. As for Ukraine, virtually abandoned by its supposed allies, it would certainly manage to resist and contain Russia’s continuous blows, but alone it would not be able to play the global role, in terms of influence and military strength, that should be its own. Such a world would logically strengthen authoritarian and dictatorial middle powers, lacking in global and medium-term strategy, such as the Gulf countries, which could act as a force for anarchy. Turkey would return to its old demons of ambiguity in foreign policy, having understood, not without reason, that it could trust no one and therefore maneuvering according to its whims of the moment. India and Brazil would be reinforced in a multi-alignment devoid of meaning, strategic scope, and intelligence, but this would benefit, as it does today, the revisionist powers. Most ASEAN countries would also remain on the fringes of foreign policy, seeing too much engagement as a risk rather than an opportunity.
I cannot rule out such a scenario entirely. Should I have explored it further? Perhaps, but to what end? I certainly mention it as a possibility in my book, and it was against this backdrop that I wrote it, preferring to focus on the chances of resistance available to Europe and its allies. Writing a doomsday book is ultimately of limited value, since it concludes that we have no room for maneuver. I thought it would be more fruitful to explore possible strategies that would give a virtuous scenario a chance.
In this latest book, as in Notre guerre, I explained that, logically, because of the historical chain of events that it would trigger, but also ideologically, because narratives always contain a performative element, an event would be decisive for the future—even if it cannot predict the entire future. This event will determine whether the future remains open or whether, for many decades at least, it closes. As we can see, it is the victory or defeat of Ukraine that is at stake. I am certainly not going to explain again here what the implications of one scenario or the other are, because there are ultimately few intermediate options, beyond even the question of Ukraine’s survival, for which I have confidence in the Ukrainian people. In any case, a Russia left undefeated would make the disaster scenario likely, with fatal consequences for the security and freedom of Europe. A defeated Russia would make it possible to set in motion a virtuous scenario, even if it alone does not carry all the chains of the strategy to be implemented. It would at least hold the leaders accountable for the other challenges facing the international order: it is more likely that, after taking decisive action against Russia, they would do the same against China, among others. If they show little sign of doing so, by refusing to see through a policy of defeat for Russia, I cannot see any miracle happening on other issues.
Organizing the G-infinity
One final question remained, which also came up in discussions I had about my book: how could I give shape or even a simple représentation to the G-infinity that I had tried to conceptualize in my book?
It is true that, for some analysts and leaders, the other models previously available seemed simpler and, in that sense, more reassuring. Some of those who had experienced it during their lifetime and even during their active professional careers still feel nostalgic for the bipolar order that had seen the two blocs clash. The danger was extreme, but some often found convenient, albeit cowardly and historically dubious, a simple confrontation between two powers, even if it was extremely dangerous, especially since it did not involve the people. The brief unipolar moment was also comfortable, even for those who saw America's triumph as a guarantee of their lasting security. The idea of multipolarity, which came straight from Samuel Huntington, was also convenient because it assumed a certain “stability” in the world, where, again, the people didn’t exist. It’s as if, for some international strategists, the people were just a nuisance. They did not care that this multipolar world ultimately did not respect any of the rules of international law established since 1945. As for the apolar order of G-zero, it was certainly not reassuring, but it had the essential merit of no longer raising the question of such an order.
G-infinity as I propose, or G-indefinite, if you prefer to call it, defines everything except a permanently settled and stable order. It defines an order that is ultimately quite democratic, in which the greatest number of states have a say, without any preeminence being given to a handful of them, except in terms of their ability to organize this new order for the benefit of the majority. It is an order based on alliances, driven by fundamental interests in terms of security in the broadest sense of the term. Through these alliances, states seek to impose rules, no doubt not very different from those established by international treaties and conventions since the end of the Second World War, which express concerns in terms of border guarantees, self-determination of peoples, respect for international criminal law, but also good governance, balanced and fair development, and protection of global public goods.
This order is certainly at odds with the prevailing ideology of the three major powers—one of which, Russia, is considered a real major power, if not by the number of nuclear weapons it possesses. It reaffirms the rejection of spheres of influence, the primacy of self-determination of peoples, solidarity in development, and the rejection of unilateralism, whether political, commercial, or economic. This cannot therefore be a once-and-for-all stable order, as the way in which alliances are formed, or sometimes broken, also depends on developments on the domestic scene in individual states. Ultimately, it is a much more “diplomatic” order than those that preceded it. It will also evolve according to the concerns of the moment and the urgencies linked to the attempts of revisionist states to reject such a change in the world that opposes them.
In The End of Great Power Politics, I showed that Europe and its democratic allies in the Asia-Pacific region—Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, Australia, and New Zealand—surely soon to be joined by others, both from the region and from Africa and Latin America, have a decisive role to play in helping to forge such an order.
The Russian war, China’s new anti-system stance, and the brutal anarchy proposed by Washington in international relations ultimately leave us with few sensible choices. For the world’s democracies, this is not a utopia, but the logical face of realism.