The American agenda is dominating global news again, but today it looks different than it did a few years ago. For Australia, South Korea and Germany the United States is at once an indispensable ally, a source of threats to their own security and economies, and a moral dilemma. the new US and Israeli war against Iran, the crisis around the Strait of Hormuz, Donald Trump’s talk of being “tired” of allies and scaling back engagement in international organizations intertwine with domestic debates in these countries about dependence on Washington, the future of NATO, and the price paid to sustain the “American order.”
Several closely linked issues are now in the spotlight: the US war with Iran and strikes on Venezuela; the Trump administration’s attempt to shift military responsibility for the Strait of Hormuz onto allies; heated debates in Australia and South Korea about military alliance with the US; Germany’s fear of Washingtonian protectionism and a possible weakening of NATO; and, finally, a deeper concern: the decline of the US’s reputation as a bearer of international norms and human rights.
One of the key flashpoints has become the 2026 war against Iran and the related campaign in the Strait of Hormuz, through which a significant share of the world’s oil exports passes. After US and Israeli strikes on Iranian targets and an escalation in the strait, Trump publicly called on the “countries of the world that receive oil through Hormuz” to “take care” of that sea lane militarily themselves. The next day a number of allies — Germany, Spain, Italy, Estonia, the United Kingdom, Australia, South Korea and Japan — openly rejected that call, as did the European Union as a whole. That collective “no” became a symbolic gesture: Washington can no longer automatically assume that allies will stand shoulder to shoulder with it in every military campaign. It is precisely this crossroads — where the boundary of solidarity with the US lies — that is now being debated in the three countries under consideration. (en.wikipedia.org)
Australia found itself in an especially awkward position: on the one hand, it is part of AUKUS and deeply tied into American military infrastructure; on the other — its involvement in the war with Iran triggered unprecedentedly harsh domestic criticism of the alliance with Washington. As early as March 2026 Prime Minister Anthony Albanese had to acknowledge that three Australian servicemen were aboard an American submarine that sank an Iranian frigate off the coast of Sri Lanka. That episode became a vivid example of how deeply Australia is drawn into US operational activity, even when formally the role is described as “supporting an ally.” (en.wikipedia.org)
Against this background Australian critics speak no longer of isolated episodes but of a “pattern” — a chain of “American wars” into which Canberra is drawn almost automatically. Greens leader Larissa Waters, in a recent statement on the ceasefire in Iran, called what is happening “an illegal and chaotic war of choice by the US” and demanded that it become “a turning point when Australia finally breaks free of US chains and begins to pursue truly independent defence and foreign policy.” She condemned the government’s decision to support US and Israeli strikes, to send military resources to the region and to “turn a blind eye to Trump’s escalation of threats,” which, she said, sends the world a signal that Australia is willing to accept “the collapse of international norms as acceptable.” The statement was published on the Australian Greens’ website and in effect calls for a rethinking of the entire alliance. (greens.org.au)
One of the sharpest pieces appeared in the independent outlet Crikey under a headline that in its English original reads as a call for an “urgent conversation about how the US is harming us.” The author reminded readers that Albanese himself said on April 8, 2026: “The United States is our most important ally… relations are built on many levels between leaders, armed forces, economies, business and people.” But following that quote the column carefully dissects how this “multi-level” alliance, critics argue, turns Australia into an accomplice of ventures that threaten its security and draw it into confrontation with China and Iran. The author effectively asks: if even the US’s closest allies refuse to follow Trump into Hormuz, isn’t it time for Canberra to stop treating participation in American operations as something almost automatic? (crikey.com.au)
Similar, albeit more restrained, motives are heard in South Korea. Seoul’s decision to refuse Trump’s request to send naval ships to the Strait of Hormuz is interpreted by local analysts as an important signal: a country that has lived for decades under the American “nuclear umbrella” and hosts US forces is not prepared to automatically expand its military role beyond the Korean Peninsula for Washington’s sake. The Korean press discusses how such a refusal, shared with European countries and Australia, reduces reputational risk: Seoul does not look like it is alone in defying the US; rather, it becomes part of a broader front of allies saying “no” to a specific Trump demand. At the same time political scientists emphasize that this is not about breaking with America — on the contrary, interest is growing in the idea of a more “symmetrical” alliance in which South Korean interests and constraints are taken as seriously as American ones. (en.wikipedia.org)
In Germany the fatigue with what seems like an endless sequence of American military and foreign-policy crises drawing Europe in directly or indirectly is particularly noticeable. For Germany 2026 became a moment when three negative trends coincided: a sharp drop in favorable views of the US in opinion polls, growing fear of Washington’s protectionist trade policies, and a new wave of debate about NATO’s future against reports that Trump is supposedly “considering” pulling the US out of the alliance. In a recent international press review on Deutschlandfunk discussing the ceasefire in Iran, Japan’s Asahi Shimbun was quoted as saying that Trump’s threats to “destroy an entire civilisation in Iran” seriously damaged the image of the US. And the Australian Sydney Morning Herald, whose position the German broadcaster also relays, notes that the war started by Trump could raise oil and energy prices for a long time, including inside the US, accelerate global inflation and slow growth. For German listeners this shows that criticism of Trump and concerns about the consequences of his policies resonate both in Asia and among traditional Anglo-allied countries. (deutschlandfunk.de)
On a deeper level in Germany attention is focused on the economic consequences of “America First.” In a brief report by the Institut der deutschen Wirtschaft on the possible impact of the new US administration on business, it is stressed that German companies primarily fear competitive losses and trade and export restrictions in the event of confrontational economic policies from Washington. According to the survey, about 10% of companies expect “strong” sales restrictions due to protectionist tariffs, another 22% believe they will be affected “moderately.” Almost 40% of industrial firms expect a significant deterioration in competitiveness due to differences in energy costs, and another 22% cite US’s laxer environmental standards. Thus American policy is seen not only as a geopolitical challenge but also as a factor undermining Germany’s industrial base. (econstor.eu)
This economic dimension is especially noticeable when compared with political anxieties about NATO. German media and even popular discussion platforms express scepticism: should Europe continue to rely unconditionally on the US, if in Washington there are louder threats to leave the alliance or “pull back” from international organizations? One high-profile discussion that gained traction in the German internet segment revolved around news that Trump was allegedly “considering” a US withdrawal from NATO. Users and some commentators pointed out that such threats provoke a dual reaction: on the one hand, fear of a “motherless” Europe; on the other, an understanding that a break with the US could free the continent from entanglement in a potential conflict with China or from participation in long wars in the Middle East — like the current campaign against Iran. More knowledgeable discussants reminded others that US law after 2023 explicitly stipulates that the president cannot unilaterally withdraw the US from NATO without the approval of two-thirds of the Senate or a separate act of Congress. This legal nuance reassures part of the German audience but does not remove political doubts: if the person in the presidency systematically undermines trust in US commitments, can NATO still be considered unshakeable? (reddit.com)
Interestingly, another aspect of “American pressure” has been repeatedly discussed in Germany — the US State Department’s human rights reports on various countries. In one analytical piece by the Bundestag’s scientific service it is stated that Washington’s annual reports reflect not only universal human rights concerns but also “specific priorities and debates within the US itself.” Particular irritation was caused by the 2025 assessment placing Germany worse than some Latin American countries such as El Salvador, which was perceived as a political signal rather than a neutral human-rights analysis. In the German interpretation this looks like an example of Washington’s “moralising,” which at the same time condemns human-rights violations abroad while waging a war that causes mass casualties and breaches international norms. (bundestag.de)
In Australia these moral contradictions are joined by a very concrete and material question: what does the American alliance give and what does it take away. On the one hand, the US is the largest investor in the Australian economy, a key security partner and the initiator of the unprecedented AUKUS project that envisages transferring nuclear submarine technology to Australia. On the other hand, that same AUKUS and participation in the war against Iran put Canberra in the firing line. Opponents of the current course draw a direct comparison with the Iraq war: then Australia followed the US into a conflict later judged to be mistaken and illegal; today the risks look similar. For them the point where Germany, Australia and South Korea all said “no” to Trump’s demands over Hormuz symbolizes the possibility of a different scenario: solidarity not “with everything America does,” but only with what truly serves the interests of these countries and conforms to international law. (en.wikipedia.org)
The South Korean perspective is also coloured by regional threats: amid growing pressure from China and ongoing crises with North Korea, Seoul cannot afford a radical break with the US, but local commentators argue it can — and should — more firmly define the limits of its support. Refusing to participate in the operation in the Strait of Hormuz is presented as an example of such “selective” loyalty. South Korean expert columns stress that the country is already investing in strengthening regional security architecture — from trilateral formats with the US and Japan to participation in sanctions regimes against the DPRK and Russia — and that further “globalisation” of Korea’s military role for Washington could trigger domestic political polarization similar to that seen in European countries. (en.wikipedia.org)
Some European commentary cited by the German press brackets out even the specific figure of Trump and speaks of a more general shift: the US is increasingly abandoning multilateralism as the main framework of foreign policy. German expert discourse discusses Washington’s decision to withdraw from several dozen international organizations and commissions at once — a step called in one analytical review a deepening “exit from global institutions.” In internet discussions Germans compare this to Brexit, but now carried out by a superpower: if London left the European Union, Washington is abandoning a chunk of the postwar architecture it helped build. For the German elite this is not only a political problem but a systemic challenge: how viable is a world in which the United States is no longer the “guard dog” of international norms but becomes one more major actor pursuing primarily its own interests? (reddit.com)
All these debates in Australia, South Korea and Germany are united by one implicit but important idea: the image of the US has ceased to be unambiguous. In Australia America is simultaneously a security lifeline and a source of risk of being drawn into new “foreign wars.” In South Korea it is a guarantor against the North Korean threat, but also a partner that may demand too high a price for its protection. In Germany it is a key economic and military ally, but at the same time a state whose domestic politics (“America First,” protectionism, political polarisation) is increasingly seen as a destabilizing factor.
Notably, voices in all three countries are calling not for anti-Americanism but for “emancipation” — greater autonomy while preserving alliances. Australian critics demand to “cut the ties” insofar as automatic participation in wars is concerned, but they do not advocate a complete break with the US. German economists and political scientists seriously discuss strengthening European strategic autonomy while not denying the need for NATO. South Korean analysts propose a model in which Seoul remains in a close alliance with Washington but consistently refuses to take part in operations not directly related to Korean security.
From an international-relations perspective this may be the main change: the US remains a central power, but its allies no longer see it as an unconditional moral and political guide. They are learning to say “yes” and “no” based on their own calculations, not reflexively. And the more often in Berlin, Canberra or Seoul people ask “what price are we paying for this alliance?”, the harder it will be for Washington to maintain the level of global influence it has been accustomed to since the postwar decades.
