Geostrategic Media Political Commentary, Analysis, Security, Defense
By Adnan Nassar
The image of the United States has changed considerably over the past several decades. A country that for much of the post-Cold War era presented itself as the principal champion of freedom, democracy and human rights is increasingly viewed with skepticism in parts of the world, particularly across the Arab and Muslim worlds. In some societies, that skepticism has developed into frustration, distrust and, at times, outright rejection of American foreign policy. This does not mean that people have suddenly turned against the American people, American culture, universities, technology or economic opportunities. The problem is more political than cultural. It is rooted in the accumulated experience of wars, alliances, diplomatic decisions and what many people perceive as inconsistencies between the principles Washington proclaims and the policies it actually pursues.
First, Palestine remains the central wound in America’s relationship with Arab and Muslim public opinion. For generations, Washington’s close political, military and diplomatic relationship with Israel has shaped perceptions of the United States throughout the Middle East. American support for Israel, combined with Washington’s repeated use of its diplomatic influence at crucial moments, has convinced many Arabs and Muslims that the United States cannot be regarded as a neutral actor in the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. The problem becomes particularly acute whenever Palestinian civilian casualties rise and Washington is perceived as unwilling or unable to exercise sufficient pressure on Israel to halt military operations or protect civilians. For many people in the region, the issue has consequently moved beyond questions of foreign policy and into something more fundamental: the meaning of justice itself. When people see the world’s most powerful country invoking international law and human rights in one conflict while appearing more restrained when an ally is involved, the resulting damage is not simply diplomatic. It becomes a crisis of credibility.
Second, Iraq left another profound mark on the Arab political imagination. The 2003 American invasion succeeded in removing Saddam Hussein’s regime, but the aftermath produced years of violence, sectarian conflict, institutional collapse and political instability. The consequences extended far beyond Iraq’s borders, contributing to a regional environment in which armed groups, sectarian politics and geopolitical competition acquired greater influence. For many Arabs, the lesson of Iraq was not that American power was ineffective. Quite the opposite: the United States demonstrated that it possessed overwhelming military power and could destroy an existing political order relatively quickly. The deeper question was what came afterward. The experience reinforced the perception that Washington could remove governments but did not always possess a sufficiently realistic political strategy for rebuilding the institutions and social consensus necessary to replace them. That distinction has mattered enormously in shaping perceptions of subsequent American interventions.
Third, Afghanistan reinforced the same doubts from a different direction. The United States spent roughly two decades fighting in Afghanistan before withdrawing in 2021, leaving behind images of political uncertainty and a chaotic evacuation that became symbolic of the limitations of prolonged military intervention. The central question was not simply whether America had won or lost a particular battle. It was whether military power alone could produce political legitimacy, stable institutions and sustainable democracy in a society with its own history, social structures and political traditions. The Afghan experience therefore contributed to a broader international debate about the limits of military power. The United States could deploy enormous resources, maintain advanced military capabilities and dominate the battlefield, yet none of those advantages guaranteed the political outcome Washington initially sought.
Fourth, the issue of double standards has become perhaps even more damaging than individual wars. Across parts of the Arab world, there is a widespread perception that Washington applies the language of democracy, human rights and international law differently depending on the identity and strategic importance of the country involved. Critics argue that the United States can condemn violations by an adversary while showing greater tolerance toward similar conduct by an ally. Whether every example supports this accusation is less important politically than the fact that the perception exists and has become deeply embedded. Foreign policy is ultimately judged not only by official statements but by consistency. When Washington tells one government that international law is inviolable while appearing to tolerate violations by another, its credibility suffers. The resulting criticism is often summarized in a simple phrase heard repeatedly across the region: American interests come before American principles.
Fifth, the Arab public does not necessarily want more American aid; it wants greater political credibility. I remember a personal encounter that illustrates this point. In 2010, during a press conference with the U.S. ambassador to Jordan, I told him quite directly that the Arab world did not need America to build mosques or churches. We have enough places of worship, and we do not need another country to teach us how to build them. I also argued that we did not need small symbolic forms of assistance or basic stationery that could be obtained elsewhere, including from China, at competitive prices. What the Arab world really needed from the United States, I argued, was something much more consequential: a clear political position on the Israeli occupation and the Palestinian question, one that did not automatically place Washington on the side of the occupying power while leaving the Palestinians to bear the consequences. The point was not that American humanitarian assistance was worthless. It was that assistance could never compensate for what people regarded as a fundamental political injustice. When a population believes that a superpower possesses the capacity to influence an outcome but chooses not to use that influence in the direction of justice, additional aid can become politically secondary.
Sixth, America’s image in Europe presents a different but related problem. Europeans are not a single political constituency, and attitudes toward Washington vary considerably from one country to another. Nevertheless, the Iraq War, disagreements over trade, disputes over burden-sharing within NATO, differences over international agreements and the changing tone of successive American administrations have encouraged a growing European debate about strategic autonomy. During Donald Trump’s first presidency in particular, questions about the reliability of American commitments to European allies became much more prominent. European governments began discussing whether the continent could remain excessively dependent on American military capabilities while pursuing its own strategic interests. The issue was not necessarily hostility toward the United States. Rather, it was a growing recognition that Europe needed greater capacity to act independently if American and European priorities diverged. That debate has continued because alliances depend not only on military capability but also on political predictability.
Seventh, however, it would be misleading to describe this phenomenon simply as hatred of America. Millions of Arabs and Muslims live in the United States, study at American universities, work for American companies and participate in American society. American universities continue to attract students from around the world, while American science, technology, entertainment, business and popular culture retain extraordinary global influence. The American economic model remains attractive to millions of people seeking education, employment and entrepreneurship. There is therefore an important distinction between attitudes toward the United States as a society and attitudes toward the policies of the American government. A person can strongly oppose Washington’s policy toward Palestine while admiring American universities. Someone can criticize American military intervention while using American technology every day. Another person can oppose American foreign policy while hoping to visit New York, California or Washington. The relationship is therefore far more complicated than the word “anti-American” suggests.
Eighth, the deeper problem may be the way American power is exercised rather than the existence of American power itself. Power can impose sanctions, destroy military capabilities, change governments and alter balances of power, but it cannot manufacture trust. Nor can military superiority automatically produce legitimacy. International respect depends on a combination of strength, consistency, credibility and the willingness to recognize mistakes. A superpower may be able to compel another state to change its behavior temporarily, but it cannot force ordinary people to believe that its actions are just. This distinction is increasingly important in an international system where American power is still enormous but no longer operates in an uncontested environment. China has expanded its economic influence, Russia continues to challenge Western strategic preferences, regional powers are pursuing more autonomous policies, and countries that once depended almost entirely on Washington increasingly have alternative diplomatic and economic partners.
Ninth, America’s declining image also reflects a broader transformation in the international system. For much of the post-Cold War period, the United States enjoyed a degree of geopolitical predominance that made American preferences difficult for other states to ignore. Today, the world is moving toward a more competitive and increasingly multipolar environment. Middle Eastern governments have learned to maintain relationships with Washington while simultaneously developing partnerships with Beijing, Moscow, New Delhi and other emerging powers. The objective is not necessarily to abandon the United States. It is to avoid dependence on any single great power. This trend should be understood as a strategic response to changing circumstances rather than automatically interpreted as anti-Americanism. Countries increasingly want freedom of maneuver. They want to be able to disagree with Washington without jeopardizing their economic or security interests.
Tenth, the United States still possesses something that most other powers cannot easily replicate: enormous global attraction. American universities remain influential, American technology remains deeply embedded in the global economy, American companies operate across continents, and American culture continues to shape global entertainment and communications. The problem is therefore not that America has lost its attractiveness. The problem is that its soft power and hard power are increasingly moving in different directions. America’s culture may remain admired while its foreign policy is questioned. Its technology may be embraced while its military interventions are criticized. Its universities may be celebrated while its Middle East policy is rejected. This contradiction should concern American policymakers because soft power is not simply a decorative asset. It can reinforce diplomacy, alliances and long-term strategic influence.
Finally, the question Washington should be asking is not simply, “Why do some people dislike America?” That question is too easy and ultimately unproductive. The more important question is: Why has America lost some of its ability to persuade others that it uses its extraordinary power in pursuit of a fairer international order? The answer cannot be found exclusively in American public diplomacy, social media campaigns or foreign aid programs. It requires a serious examination of policy itself. If Washington wants to rebuild trust in the Arab and Muslim worlds and strengthen confidence among European allies, it will need to demonstrate greater consistency between its stated principles and its actions. It will need to recognize that strategic interests and moral credibility are not necessarily opposing concepts. Indeed, in the long term, they can reinforce one another.
America does not need to make the world love it. No great power can realistically achieve that. But it does need to preserve the belief that its power is subject to principles, that international law applies beyond the borders of America’s adversaries, and that the lives and rights of civilians matter regardless of their nationality or political affiliation. A country can compel obedience through power, but it cannot compel respect. Respect has to be earned. And once trust has been lost, military superiority alone cannot restore it.
