The Liberal International Order: Between Illusion, Imposition, and Aspiration
Power, Promise, and Pretence
The liberal international order, that grand architecture of norms, institutions, and alliances forged in the aftermath of the Cold War, stands today at a crossroads. It is poised delicately between illusion, imposition, and aspiration. While many may never have engaged deeply with the writings of the 1990s — or have done so selectively, filtered through the lens of which thinkers endured in influence — the themes of illusion, imposition, and aspiration were already perceptively articulated in the finest works of Western international relations scholarship of that decade. Yet, what endures in collective memory is often a selective inheritance, shaped as much by later citation and reception as by the original texts themselves.
That grand architecture of norms, institutions and alliances emerged from the smouldering ruins of two world wars and the chilling shadow of nuclear annihilation, animated by a conviction that rules rather than riven by rivalries could bind the world together. At its heart lay an audacious wager: that states, despite their differences, could be drawn into a common framework of cooperation, restraint, and mutual benefit; that the horrors of the past could be transmuted into a stable, prosperous, and peaceful global order. But as the twenty-first century unfolds, that once-confident vision appears increasingly embattled, revealing the fragility beneath its foundational promises.
For decades, the liberal order projected the image of a world tamed by reason, disciplined by law, and elevated by the universal appeal of democracy, human rights, and market freedom. Its narrative was not merely one of governance but of destiny, a progressive arc heralding the inexorable march of liberal modernity. Yet this was always, in part, an illusion-a fiction that assumed the world’s peoples would converge naturally toward a singular model of political and economic life. This belief underestimated the depth of civilisational difference, the force of historical memory, and the tenacity of alternative conceptions of order. The resilience of authoritarian states, the backlash of populist movements in the very heartlands of liberalism, and the resurgence of civilisational assertiveness in places like China, Russia, and parts of the Global South all point to the limits of this universalist dream. The liberal project, it seems, has never been as globally irresistible as its champions imagined.
Yet entwined with this illusion has been the harder, more uncompromising thread of imposition. For all its lofty rhetoric of consent, the liberal order has been underwritten by a profound asymmetry of power, above all, American hegemony. The spread of liberal norms has often been less a matter of organic diffusion and more a process shaped by the instruments of coercion and conditionality. From the IMF’s structural adjustment programs to NATO interventions, from democracy promotion to sanctions regimes, liberalism has at times worn the face of empire. For many in the postcolonial world, the liberal order has felt less like an open invitation to a shared moral community and more like an externally imposed template — one that too often disregards local histories, ignores indigenous aspirations, and reinforces patterns of dependency and subordination. It is little wonder that critiques of hypocrisy and neo-imperialism have dogged the liberal project, casting long shadows over its legitimacy.
And yet, despite its illusions and impositions, the liberal international order endures as an aspiration — a moral horizon that continues to animate human longing. For dissidents struggling under the boot of autocracy, for minorities seeking the shelter of universal rights, for small states anxious for rules that might constrain the predations of great powers, the liberal order holds out the promise — however flawed — of a world governed by law, by dignity, and by cooperation. Its vision of an open, rules-based international system remains a powerful counterpoint to the grim alternatives of might-makes-right, zero-sum geopolitics, and civilisational conflict. To dismiss it entirely is to abandon a project that, however compromised in practice, still speaks to some of the noblest aspirations of the modern age.
As we confront the realities of a fractured global order — marked by rising authoritarianism, the erosion of multilateral institutions, and the fraying of trust between states and peoples — the task before us is neither nostalgic idealisation nor cynical repudiation. Rather, it is to undertake a sober reckoning with the liberal order’s ambiguities: to disentangle where illusion has blinded its advocates, where imposition has corroded its legitimacy, and where aspiration still offers a vital, if difficult, path forward. Only through this honest reckoning can we hope to reclaim the liberal project — not as a hegemonic script imposed upon the world, but as a pluralistic, dialogical endeavour capable of accommodating difference while upholding the irreducible dignity of all.