The most prominent focus of discussions about the United States in South Korea, Russia and South Africa today is not the abstract "Washington," but a very concrete second term of Donald Trump and the avalanche of his decisions: tariffs, the boycott of the G20 summit in South Africa, sharp pressure on allies and simultaneous escalation on fronts from Ukraine to the Persian Gulf. Thousands of kilometers away, very different countries are trying to answer the same question: do the United States remain a predictable pillar of the world order, or are they becoming a source of strategic turbulence that others must insure themselves against?
Three overlapping storylines crystallize around this. In East Asia, South Korean commentators debate the cost of an even closer military alliance with the US against the backdrop of a tariff war and growing Washington demands for a "fair burden‑share." In Russia, a second Trump administration is seen as a combination of the old confrontation with the US and a new, more chaotic phase of American policy, in which Moscow remains a chief adversary but is no longer the sole focus. And in South Africa, criticism of the US fuses displeasure with sanction pressure, interference in regional affairs and Trump's rhetoric about a "white genocide," which local elites call a mixture of myth and political calculation.
The first major knot is a new turn of "America First" policy and its very concrete consequences for allies and opponents. In Seoul, South Korean outlets and analytical platforms discuss two lines at once: a sharp rise in defense commitments to the US and, in parallel, Washington's trade‑tariff war against key exporters from the ROK. The chronology of recent months looks to the local audience like an accumulating compromise: to preserve a strategic "nuclear umbrella" and US political patronage amid threats from North Korea and China, Seoul agrees to increasingly heavy economic and fiscal concessions.
A joint fact sheet by US and South Korean leaders, published in November, recorded not only general words about "modernizing the alliance" but also unprecedented figures: Seoul pledged to raise its defense budget to 3.5% of GDP as soon as possible, to contract $25 billion in purchases of US weapons and to provide $33 billion in "comprehensive support" for US forces stationed in the country over ten years. The English‑language Korean outlet MK writes about this in detail, emphasizing that this means a doubling of military spending from the current level of 2.32% of GDP. In monetary terms, this implies a jump from roughly 61 trillion won to more than 128 trillion won by the middle of the next decade if the economy grows at the forecast 3.4% per year. MK directly links these agreements to an "epochal" strengthening of South Korea's military role in the region and to the fact that the US effectively delegates to Seoul part of the functions for containing the DPRK and China — but the price is a heavy fiscal burden and significant dependence on American military supplies. The same linkage of "strategic reinforcement — fiscal risk" is analyzed in Korea Pro, where author John Lee warns that trying to please Washington may clash with domestic social needs in an aging society that requires not only rockets but pensions, healthcare and support for young families. It is in this context that the phrase about a "growing risk of deepening the alliance with the US at the cost of tightened budget constraints" appears.
At the same time, across the Atlantic the Trump administration is attacking one of the key pillars of South Korea's economic success — exports. In the chronology compiled by the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR), which tracks the evolution of US‑Korean relations, the leitmotif of the last year and a half is increasing White House pressure on trading partners. As early as 2025, Trump announced plans to impose a 10% "universal" tariff on imports plus a 25% additional levy on goods from South Korea, which in Seoul is perceived as an overt use of an ally as a target to please a domestic electorate. South Korea's economic team, responding to the tariff blow, tried to compensate by promising multibillion‑dollar investments in the US — according to the English‑language chronology of KORUS agreements, Seoul agreed to a 15% rate tied to an investment package of $350 billion into the American economy. The Korean press calls this "redemption by ransom": the country pays a double price — tariff and investment — to soften the blow to auto and steel industries that depend on access to the US market.
This double pressure — military and economic — creates notable skepticism in the ROK about Washington's motivations. According to recent data cited by the English page on US‑Korea relations: 61% of South Koreans still view the US positively overall, but two‑thirds express distrust of Trump personally, and nearly 66% agree with the statement that "the United States does not take South Korea's interests into account." For part of society the US remains "the most favorably perceived country in the world," as earlier Gallup Korea polls recorded, but the specific policies of the current administration provoke irritation, especially when the discussion turns to "fair burden‑sharing" and who benefits from high tariffs and arms contracts.
The second major storyline, present in Korean, Russian and South African discussions, is about whether the United States can still play the role of "world policeman" and security guarantor. From Moscow one of the harshest voices is heard. On the Russian Russian‑language media field — from RT to RBC — the dominant portrayal is of the US as a force consciously dismantling prior arrangements with Russia and NATO and using the war in Ukraine as an instrument to suppress Russia. An RT piece titled "Doesn't care about the opinions of other countries: how the US tries to shirk responsibility for the collapse of relations with Russia" is typical: it quotes State Department spokesman Ned Price, who after the start of the special operation said that maintaining the previous status quo with Moscow "is out of the question," while also insisting that dialogue "is possible." The Russian side, through Foreign Ministry spokeswoman Maria Zakharova, responds by accusing the US of trying to shift responsibility for the breakdown of relations onto Moscow and of disregarding other countries' interests. For a Russian audience this fits into a broader narrative: the way the US treats Russia is only a particular case of Washington's overall contempt for alternative centers of power.
The same motif appears — albeit in a very different tone — in South African debate about the US role in world politics. Here the US is criticized not as an "empire of NATO" but as a power that, under slogans of human rights and "the war on terror," intervenes in the sovereign policies of Global South countries. The culmination was Trump's announced boycott of the G20 summit in South Africa and his repeated posts on Truth Social that "no US government representative will attend, while human rights violations continue" against white Afrikaners and alleged mass land expropriation. This was reported in a constellation of Russian‑ and English‑language outlets, from the Ukrainian agency UNN to RT and Turkish Anadolu. These publications emphasize that Trump not only refuses to go to Johannesburg himself, but also calls to expel South Africa from the "Group of Twenty," calling what is happening in the country "a communist tyranny" and "the killing of Afrikaners."
In response, South Africa's Foreign Ministry published an official statement calling the US decision "regrettable" and rejecting the thesis of a systematic racial genocide of whites. Afrikaner groups within South Africa react more complexly: some conservative organizations welcome Washington's attention to their problems, but a significant portion of the Afrikaner business elite is concerned that the country is becoming a battlefield for other people's narratives while real economic and social conditions are ignored. Layered on this is another emotionally charged Washington decision — Trump's order to stop all financial aid to South Africa, which he justifies by "gross human rights violations" and "land confiscation"; according to the US government, in 2023 alone assistance to South Africa exceeded $440 million. South African commentators in Mail & Guardian and Daily Maverick see this as a deliberate punishment for Pretoria's attempts to pursue a more independent foreign policy within BRICS, not as a sincere concern for minority rights.
Against this backdrop tensions around military exercises off the South African coast are also rising. Recent maneuvers organized under the BRICS format with participation from the navies of Russia, China, Iran, the UAE and South Africa provoked a harsh US reaction: the American embassy in Pretoria criticized the inclusion of Iranian ships in the exercises, citing mass human rights violations in Iran, and questioned whether South African military officials had followed President Ramaphosa's instructions to limit Tehran's participation to observer status. As Associated Press notes, for the US these maneuvers look like an attempt by BRICS countries to give the bloc a quasi‑military character, while for South Africans they are a test of how far multivector engagement can go without losing the remaining cooperation with Washington. South Africa's Foreign Ministry in its statement stresses that the country remains "committed to diplomatic resolution of any misunderstandings" while simultaneously defending the right to military cooperation with whom it deems appropriate.
The third dimension of debates about the US is the struggle for leadership in the Global South and how Washington competes with China and other centers of power. From Seoul this storyline is seen primarily through the prism of the US–China–ROK triangle and the broader US‑Japan‑Korea format. The mere existence of an American‑Japanese‑Korean pact, formalized back in 2023 at the Camp David meeting, is perceived ambivalently in Seoul. On one hand, it strengthens security amid growing cooperation among Moscow, Pyongyang and Beijing; on the other, it places South Korea in an uncomfortable position between its largest trading partner China and its main military ally the US. Recent coverage by AP of President Lee Jae‑myung's visit to Nara and his meeting with Japanese Prime Minister Suga Takaichi emphasized the need to stick together in the face of "intensifying US‑China competition." In this connection, South Korean media cautiously speak of the return of a Cold War logic in which Seoul is required to make an increasingly clear choice — even at the cost of strained relations with Beijing.
In Africa the US‑China competition shows up differently. A recent Washington Post analysis of how China "senses opportunity" amid aggressive US actions toward Venezuela and Iran vividly describes a change of roles in the eyes of many Global South countries: Beijing positions itself as a "stabilizing and reliable power" offering dialogue and avoidance of force, while Washington in the Trump era more often speaks the language of sanctions, special operations and threats. This resonates with Pretoria's rhetoric about BRICS as a platform for "reforming global governance," where the US is perceived not as an unquestioned leader but as a party abusing its position. It's no accident that South African diplomacy, even under intense American criticism, continues to deepen participation in BRICS initiatives and cooperation with China under the Belt and Road framework, and that naval exercises with Moscow and Beijing are framed as "maritime security" projects, even though Washington views them as demonstrations of force against the US.
The Russian perspective casts this picture even more radically. In the Russian discourse BRICS is often presented as an "anti‑Western alternative," and any significant rift between the US and key Global South countries — from India to South Africa — is interpreted as proof of the "inevitable decline" of American hegemony. Publications like an RBC note on how the EU "outplayed" the US by "saving" Ukraine from an unfavorable peace plan by Trump illustrate another line: even among Western allies it is Washington that becomes the source of instability, while Brussels, according to these texts, is forced to "correct" American initiatives so they align with Kyiv's interests. For a Russian audience this conveniently reinforces the thesis that the US is no longer capable of being the "collective West" and imposing a single line on everyone.
The unifying motif across all three countries — and perhaps the main conclusion — is less antipathy toward the United States as such than fatigue and irritation with its unpredictability. In South Korea the US still remains the most important ally and security guarantor, but these words increasingly come with the caveat: "unless another radical America First course wins in Washington." In Russia the US continues to play the role of principal adversary and symbol of the "unipolar world," but there is a growing sense that for the White House Moscow is only one of many fronts and that tomorrow the focus could shift to China or Iran. In South Africa the US is still perceived by inertia as an important economic partner and source of investment, but every new Trump statement about a "white genocide" or "communist tyranny" pushes elites and society to seek alternatives — from BRICS to Chinese loans and regional coalitions.
It is in these local moods — Korean anxiety about the cost of the alliance, a Russian conviction of American irresponsibility, South African irritation at double standards — that a new perception of the US is forming: a power that still must be reckoned with, but one that cannot be relied upon unconditionally. For some this means deeper military integration to at least partially control Washington's behavior from within. For others it means building parallel ties with China, BRICS and regional blocs to have an exit in case of another American pivot. In Seoul, Moscow and Pretoria the central question is no longer simply for or against America, but a more pragmatic one: how to live in a world where the United States remain a superpower but are no longer a reliable anchor of the world order.
