Political realignment: Have we crossed the rubicon?

Back in March, The Economist—a magazine often seen as a compass for global politics and occasionally as its architect—ran a cover story titled “The New World Order.” Featured on the cover were Donald Trump, newly re-elected as U.S. President, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, Russia’s Vladimir Putin, Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, China’s Xi Jinping, and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. The accompanying analysis suggested that the global hierarchy was shifting, with authoritarian tendencies becoming more prominent among world leaders.

A similar observation came from France’s Le Point in February. In its special edition titled “2025 – The New World Order,” Erdoğan, Trump, Xi, and Putin were presented as the four leaders shaping this emerging order.

What’s interesting is that The Economist had resisted publishing such a cover for some time. Well before the U.S. elections, it openly campaigned against a Trump comeback and urged Biden to withdraw from the race with a harshly worded headline. In its July 2024 issue, Biden was portrayed as stubbornly clinging to the race—symbolized by a walker emblazoned with the presidential seal.

Despite this, Trump won. He returned to the White House and quickly signaled a dramatic shift in global alignment. The phrase “political realignment” first surfaced in U.S. media, and many global media outlets that had opposed Trump began adjusting their stance accordingly.

Last week, President Erdoğan commented in his parliamentary address:

“The global system established after World War II and entrenched after the Cold War is fundamentally cracking. We are witnessing the rise of a more protectionist structure replacing the neoliberal political and economic order. Almost every actor in international politics is in search of new strategies. The trade wars, which ignited over tariffs, are expected to have global consequences. It would not be an exaggeration to say that a violent storm is coming—one that will affect everyone, great and small.”

So what exactly is happening with this global shift? It can’t be explained by Trump’s return to power alone. Looking back, certain turning points stand out:

One: The U.S. invasion of Iraq (2003)

Two: The Syrian Revolution (December 8, 2024)

These events didn’t just reshape our region—they gradually influenced the entire world. To truly understand their impact and where things are headed, we need a broader perspective.

We talk of a “new world order.” But what’s really new, and what belongs to the old?

Let’s go back—one or even two centuries. The collapse of the Ottoman Empire, a process that began in the 19th century and extended into the early 20th, marked a foundational shift. Historians often cite Napoleon’s invasion of Egypt as a turning point—it weakened Ottoman authority and triggered nationalist movements across Europe. As the empire weakened, space opened for modern nation-states to emerge.

It was during this period, in the early 1800s, that Britain began its campaign to carve up our region—despite being an ally at the time. The British had helped retake Egypt from the French and returned it to the Ottomans. It was also British pressure that forced Russia to back down when it threatened Istanbul. Ironically, Britain would later occupy both Egypt and Istanbul. They reached the gates of Çanakkale. Worse still, they wrested Palestine from Ottoman control and planted an Israeli state in the heart of the Islamic world. Then, they fragmented the region further—into ethnically and sectarianly divided, fragile pseudo-states destined for perpetual instability.

As it happens, just yesterday Yeni Şafak’s “Thought Journal” section published a powerful essay by Prof. Dr. Süleyman Kızıltoprak on this very topic. He wrote about the “British Friendship Society,” which operated in the final years of the Ottoman Empire. The essay explains, step by step, how minds were colonized before any physical occupation took place. One key sentence deserves to be etched into memory:

“The aim of the British Friendship Society, established in Istanbul on May 20, 1919, was to divide the Turkish nation, weaken national resistance through uprisings and chaos, and pave the way for the British to easily seize Ottoman lands. The society’s work wasn’t limited to Istanbul; it also operated in Syria, Iraq, and Palestine to incorporate these regions into British control.”

At the beginning of this piece, I cited the Iraq War and the Syrian Revolution as key turning points. These U.S.-led interventions, with overt British backing, devastated our region and spilled the blood of millions of innocents. The suffering was unimaginable—and yet, even the superpowers fell into a deep strategic quagmire. The costs were overwhelming. The Arab Spring was one last attempt to reshape the region, but the winds turned. The Syrian revolution that reignited on December 8, 2024—after 13 long years of repression—marked the beginning of the end for two centuries of Western imperialist policy, especially Britain’s.

By that time, however, Britain had already exited the stage. After leaving the European Union in 2016, they seemed to foresee Trump’s return and began retreating into isolation. It appears they’ve now stepped back from the global scene entirely.

Notice how The Economist didn’t include the UK on its “New World Order” cover? That’s no coincidence. It suggests a deliberate message: We’re out of the game—for now. Perhaps they are waiting for the dust to settle, hoping the major powers will exhaust each other.

While the U.S. and China are locked in economic and AI warfare, Britain’s absence is telling. Even Israel, their most carefully constructed project, is veering off course. Maybe their strategy now is to conserve power, minimize costs, and watch as others clash.

Back home, President Erdoğan recently said:

“Türkiye is among the countries best positioned to understand and manage this historic and painful transition—both on the ground and at the table.”

But unfortunately, not all of Türkiye’s political class can grasp the gravity of these changes. The opposition leader Özgür Özel’s recent complaints about feeling “abandoned” by Britain are baffling. For a party that claims it wants to lead the country, failing to understand global shifts—and Britain’s deliberate retreat—is a serious shortcoming.

Then again, maybe we shouldn’t be surprised. After all, this is the same main opposition that, even as Assad was fleeing by air, still insisted on negotiating with him. Regrettably, Özel and the CHP’s posture of unconditional surrender is one of Türkiye’s greatest vulnerabilities. This kind of “political vacuum” may prove more dangerous than any external threat.