At the end of February 2026, attention to the image of the United States abroad is focused again — not because of a single event, but because several narratives have overlapped. In Asia and the Middle East the US is simultaneously acting as a military power conducting, together with Israel, a large-scale operation against Iran; as an aggressive trading partner using tariffs as a universal lever of pressure; and as a country whose internal democratic system is itself being questioned because of the influence of tech giants on elections. South Korea, Japan and Saudi Arabia read these narratives differently, but in all three cases America no longer looks like the unquestioned "anchor of stability" it was perceived to be in previous decades.
The first major storyline in recent days is the sudden escalation around Iran. According to regional and Egyptian media reports, on February 28 the US, together with Israel, carried out a large-scale military strike on Iran after weeks of mounting threats and force deployments to the region, and almost simultaneously the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, according to Iranian and Western agencies, launched a massive missile barrage against four large American bases in Qatar, Kuwait, Bahrain and the UAE. Against the background of these reports, the French agency AFP recorded explosions in the Riyadh area, which immediately heightened nervousness in Saudi Arabia, seeing itself in the direct risk zone of a new round of US–Iran confrontation. (almasryalyoum.com)
Saudi press and analytical platforms in the last 24 hours have been constructing a double narrative. On one hand, they emphasize the key role of the American military "umbrella" for the security of Gulf monarchies and for deterring Iran. On the other — the argument is increasingly voiced that it was precisely the American strategy of "maximum pressure" and a series of Washington's moves in recent years that made a new escalation nearly inevitable. Local reviews often recall the experience of the wars in Iraq and Yemen: costly, protracted conflicts whose consequences the region is still unraveling. Against this backdrop Saudi commentators draw a clear line between the need to deter Iran and the danger of "being dragged into" yet another war that was started and planned not in Riyadh, but in Washington and Tel Aviv.
For Japan and South Korea this same crisis is read primarily through the prism of energy security and vulnerability of maritime communications. In Tokyo, expert comments on the news of the US and Israeli strike on Iran evoke parallels with 2019, when attacks on tankers in the Strait of Hormuz immediately hit Japanese oil importers. Liberal commentators see the new operation as confirmation of the thesis about a "return of America to the politics of force" and ask: how ready is Tokyo to assume political and military risks if an alliance with the US effectively means automatic involvement in such crises, even if indirectly. In Seoul the discussion is even more pragmatic: South Korean analysts link the potential instability in the Persian Gulf to volatility in energy prices and a hit to industrial exports, which are already under pressure from American and global trade wars.
From military conflicts the discussion naturally moves to the economic front, where in the eyes of Tokyo and Seoul the US behaves no longer as a "leader of free trade," but as the main architect of new tariff barriers. A particular resonance in Japan was caused by the US Supreme Court decision of February 20, 2026: the court ruled illegal an entire package of reciprocal and additional tariffs imposed by Washington since 2025 on a number of countries, including Japan. Almost immediately after that the White House revoked those measures, but then announced a new step — a universal additional 10 percent tariff on imports worldwide, implemented under another law (Section 122 of the US Trade Act) from February 24 for 150 days, with the possibility of extension by Congress. (alic.go.jp)
Japanese trade publications and government comments show an interesting mix of relief and concern. Relief — because, according to Agriculture Minister Noriyuki Suzuki, tariffs on key Japanese export items such as beef and green tea were not included in the new 10 percent package: previous rates are retained for these goods (26.4% on Japanese beef and a zero rate on green tea), which is especially important for the agricultural lobby. (chibanippo.co.jp) Concern — because the very fact that Washington is willing to slap a "flat" 10 percent charge on the entire world is perceived in Tokyo as a signal: the United States in Donald Trump's second term has decisively moved to a logic of constant tariff mobilization and will treat customs rates as a flexible tactical tool of pressure even on allies.
This is stated explicitly in an analysis published on the website of the Japanese organization ALIC, which deals with agricultural markets: the authors not only outline the legal gist of the Supreme Court decision and the new presidential proclamation, but also note a growing flow of lawsuits against American customs authorities. In their assessment, companies in various countries are trying to secure the right to refunds of duties already paid, fearing that without active legal action the money will not be returned. (alic.go.jp) In the Japanese business press this is presented as a lesson: even a close alliance with the US does not exempt one from the need to prepare legal and political tools to defend against Washington.
At the same time the Japanese external trade organization JETRO publishes results of quick surveys of national businesses on the impact of "Tariffs Trump 2.0." Companies complain of rising costs, uncertainty in investment plans and forced market diversification, noting that "the American risk" has become a strategic planning factor no less important than the Chinese one. JETRO accompanies these data with a series of expert comments characterizing the current administration's policy in Washington as "systematic use of trade barriers for political purposes." (jetro.go.jp) Here Japanese criticism is close to that of Europe and South Korea: the US is seen no longer only as a defender of the rules of the game, but as the main violator of those same rules when it suits domestic policy.
The domestic political angle of the American story particularly interests Saudi media in the context of discussion of the upcoming US elections. The Arab financial-business portal Argaam recounts a fresh report from the American "Media Research Center," according to which Google allegedly interfered in American elections at least 41 times from 2008 through February 2024, with the scale of such influence growing over time. (argaam.com) The figure itself proves little, but through this lens Saudi Arabia reads American democracy as a system in which huge tech platforms have learned to play an independent political role.
In Saudi commentary on this report a motive familiar to the local audience is sounded: Washington, which for decades lectured the world on "transparency" and "fair elections," is increasingly becoming the subject of debates about manipulation, hidden algorithms and corporate censorship. This motive is also important in a practical sense: the kingdom itself is undergoing a digital transformation and expanding the role of global IT players in its economy, and the US example is used as a warning. Some columns take a more ironic tone: if even American elections, according to their own researchers, are susceptible to corporate influence, then Washington's right to pass moral judgment on other political systems looks less convincing.
The South Korean discussion is less focused on specific cases of Big Tech interference in American elections, but the general theme of an "unstable America" runs here as well: experts note that for Seoul the main risk is not so much a possible change of president in Washington as the unpredictability of US policy. Military escalation with Iran, tariff swings, courtroom battles over trade policy — all this is seen as manifestations of deep domestic division in the US, the consequences of which are projected onto allies. In analyses by South Korean think tanks one can see the formula: "We depend on the US for protection against the DPRK and China, but increasingly need strategic autonomy from American economic and political turbulence."
Interestingly, Japanese political bloggers and part of the media are already openly talking about an "era of post-American dependency." In materials discussing the latest wave of tariff wars and Trump's threats to raise the universal tariff from 10 to 15%, the idea is voiced that even if the current wave of tariffs is formally temporary and tied to the 150-day period, Tokyo is actually facing a new normal — America will regularly use trade duties as a club, and allies will have to either endure it or accelerate diversification toward Europe and Asia. (go2senkyo.com) This rhetoric is still far from official policy, but it shows a tectonic shift in perception of the US: from the "inevitable and sole center" to an "important but problematic partner."
Against this background it is especially telling how differently the three countries react to the same set of facts. For Saudi Arabia America remains an indispensable military partner, but the image of Washington is increasingly associated with the risk of being dragged into another regional war and with hypocrisy on questions of democracy. For Japan the US is a fundamental security ally, but also a source of chronic trade uncertainty, because of which Japanese business must build defensive strategies as if dealing not only with a partner but with a potential economic aggressor. For South Korea the US is still the main shield against the DPRK, but behind that shield the internal chaos, court battles, tariff zigzags and elections under suspicion are becoming more visible, strengthening the conversation in Seoul about the need for "insurance" against American decisions.
These different perspectives share one thing: in them America no longer appears as a homogeneous and predictable actor. Military power, trade tariffs, the power of tech corporations and internal political conflicts merge into a complex, sometimes contradictory image. It is this image that the US’s allies and partners in Asia and the Middle East must deal with — adapting their strategies to the fact that Washington more and more often is both a pillar and a source of risk.
