World about US

20-02-2026

How America Became the Center of Global Disputes Again

Today's conversations about America outside the West are surprisingly heterogeneous, but they have one thing in common: the United States is everywhere seen not as an abstract "global democracy," but as a very concrete, often blunt player whose decisions directly affect the security, finances, and politics of other countries. Three recurring themes run through the Russian, South African, and Brazilian discussions: the new American intervention in Venezuela and the question of the US right to use force in the region; Washington's economic and debt policies, on which currencies and budgets around the world depend; and a broader feeling—especially in Brazil and Russia—that an era of forced "reconciliation" with America is beginning: countries clash with it, bargain with it, but no one expects it to disappear.

The loudest and most emotional story of recent weeks is the American operation in Venezuela on 3 January 2026, which ended with the capture of Nicolás Maduro. In the Brazilian press this topic is presented primarily as a challenge to regional sovereignty and a test of South America's real autonomy from Washington. The outlet Poder360 emphasizes that US Secretary of State Marco Rubio publicly brushed off international criticism: when asked about the negative reaction from many capitals, he said, "muitos países não gostaram do que fizemos na Venezuela… e daí?" — "many countries did not like what we did in Venezuela… so what?" — insisting that the operation was carried out in the "national interests" of the United States and would not hinder cooperation with allies. This position, described in the Poder360 piece, is perceived in Brazil as demonstrative disregard for regional opinion: Washington does not even try to frame its actions within collective decisions of the Organization of American States or the UN, it simply presents neighbors of Venezuela with a fait accompli. A familiar motif runs through Brazilian commentary: American rhetoric about human rights and democracy is again combined with unilateral forceful intervention—and a considerable number of commentators see in this a return to a 21st‑century "Monroe Doctrine" logic, where South America is not an actor but an operational zone.

Interestingly, part of the Brazilian establishment reacts not only with outrage but also with pragmatism: "we condemn the method, but we must take into account that American military and financial power still sets the terms of the game." Against the backdrop of the upcoming visit of Luis Inácio Lula da Silva to Washington in March, which was covered, for example, on the portal 180graus, Brazilian analysts are forecasting how strongly Brazil will risk expressing disagreement with the Venezuelan operation. The official trip to the White House is presented in the local press as part of a "reprogramming" of relations after the severe tariff crisis of 2025, when the US administration imposed up to 50% tariffs on all Brazilian goods under the pretext of protecting its industry and political claims about a "witch hunt" against Bolsonaro, and Brazil responded with countermeasures and a complaint to the WTO; the course of that escalation is systematized, for example, in an overview titled "Crise diplomática entre Brasil e Estados Unidos em 2025." In this context, Lula's current dialogue with Washington is seen as an attempt to turn the conflict into a deal: the easing of trade blows, discussions on strategic minerals and "green" industrial policy in exchange for a more predictable Brazilian line on regional security and sanctions.

The theme of American power, manifesting both as military and financial weaponry, leads to the second major motif of discussions—the state of the US economy and its global consequences. The Brazilian business press closely monitors how American fiscal and monetary policy is changing. Reuters on the Portuguese version of Investing.com reports that the IMF will publish on 25 February its first "Article IV" under the Trump administration—a detailed review of US economic policy, with assessments of deficits and the dollar exchange rate. Brazilian commentary around this news shows a dual attitude: on the one hand there is an acknowledgment that the dollar, despite episodes of weakening, remains the "anchor" of the global financial system through which much of trade, reserves, and credit flows; on the other hand, irritation is growing that any change in Washington instantaneously affects exchange rates, interest rates, and budgetary risks in São Paulo or Johannesburg, while the US itself allows debt levels above 100% of GDP, as a political piece in 180graus reminds readers, comparing American debt burdens with much more restrained figures in Brazil.

For Brazilian investors, economic America is simultaneously a threat and a benchmark. Morning market reviews, such as a Forbes Brasil "Pre‑market" column focusing on US unemployment data and Walmart reports, emphasize how local exchange rates and indices depend on expectations about the Fed's rate path and the resilience of the American consumer. In the same text, figures on Brazil's economic activity index sit alongside expectations for the Philadelphia Fed index, and the conclusion is simple: if the US continues to experience "solid expansion" with a stable labor market, Brazil will have to take that into account when calibrating its own policy—from the real exchange rate to maneuvers with the Selic rate. Thus, America is simultaneously condemned for the intervention in Caracas and closely studied as the main macroeconomic beacon.

In Russia the conversation about America takes a different register, but also runs through the prism of power and forced mutual recognition. In analytical pieces published by pro‑regime outlets such as the newspaper Vzglyad, a motif appears: "The US is again forced to respect Russia." In a column of the same name by Gevorg Mirzayan, it is argued that in 2025 the US—as the purported "core of the collective West"—was forced to adjust course and move to a more pragmatic, "respectful" attitude toward Moscow, partly even distancing itself from its European allies. According to the author, Washington, after long attempts at pressure through sanctions and "isolation," acknowledges that without dialogue with Russia it is impossible to regulate energy markets, peripheral wars, or the architecture of security. This narrative is aimed at a domestic audience, but its meaning is important: in the Russian public space the image of America is gradually shifting from an unequivocal "enemy" to a more complex figure of an "inevitable opponent," whose recognition by Washington Moscow tries to present as a major diplomatic victory.

There are also many threads in Russian‑language analysis around the American economy, but these often tie into global commodity chains and industrial policy. The portal Polpred, which aggregates economic news, in its metallurgy section describes how the American Nucor in 2026 raised spot prices for hot‑rolled sheet for the first time, and this is immediately interpreted as a signal of a possible turning point in the US price cycle. Such news is woven into a broader Russian discourse on deglobalization and the reshuffling of industrial chains: India's oil purchases from the US and Gulf states, European anti‑dumping investigations against Asian steel, deals by American funds in European metallurgy—all of this is presented in the Russian press as confirmation of the thesis that America, by changing the rules in its favor, forces others to constantly reconfigure.

Viewed from South Africa, where discussion of the US is less loud but still noticeable, two lines remain key: the perception of Washington as a political and trading partner that cannot be dismissed, and distrust of its claim to moral leadership. In the English‑language South African press, especially in business outlets, attention continues to focus on possible revisions to AGOA trade preferences and on how American monetary policy affects the rand exchange rate and borrowing costs. At every hint of a long period of high Fed rates, debates arise about whether South Africa's economy is too tied to the dollar and whether it is time to accelerate a pivot toward BRICS—that is, again, toward a world where the US remains the main opponent but not the sole source of capital and technology.

In foreign‑policy columns South African authors often draw parallels between American interventions in Latin America and operations in the Middle East and the region's own colonial experience. For some left‑wing commentators, the US operation in Venezuela—even though geographically distant—becomes a convenient example for criticizing the "hypocrisy" of Western rhetoric on sovereignty and human rights. They recall that Washington was one of the vocal critics of Israeli policy in words, but in practice continued military assistance, while applying rhetoric of "narcoterrorism" and special operations to "undesirable" regimes like Maduro's. This rhetoric largely echoes what is written in Brazil, but is colored by the experience of fighting apartheid and the role of the US in that history: in South African memory America is not just a superpower but a country that for a long time wavered on whether to support harsh sanctions against the apartheid regime.

All three countries—Russia, Brazil, and South Africa—thus see America as both a center of power and a source of instability. In the Russian narrative the most important thing is mutual recognition between Moscow and Washington as "forced partners" in a global game where the US ceases to be the absolute arbiter. In the Brazilian narrative the dominant theme is asymmetry: America can afford a tariff shock against the largest Latin American economy, a unilateral military operation in a neighboring country, and still remain a desirable negotiating partner to whom Lula flies to the White House hoping to bargain for trade and investment concessions. In the South African narrative financial and political dependence comes to the fore: every Fed sentence and every State Department move is viewed through the prism of how it will strengthen or weaken South Africa's already fragile economy and its ambitions within BRICS.

Against this backdrop, rhetoric from American officials such as Marco Rubio is particularly notable: in the quoted remark conveyed by Poder360 he is effectively telling the world, "Our interests matter more than your displeasure, and that won't stop you from continuing to cooperate with us." For many outside the West this is not news—but the blunt candor of such an approach gives old narratives a new cynicism. And if in Washington this reads as a demonstration of strength, then in Moscow, Brasília, and Pretoria it serves as an argument for accelerating the search for alternatives: closer coordination within BRICS, diversification of reserves, and strengthening regional blocs. America remains at the center of all negotiations, but increasingly—as an object of struggle for maneuvering space rather than as an uncontested leader.