Fukuyama: A superpower at war with itself

As the US approaches its 250th anniversary, it remains, by almost any objective measure, the world’s leading economic, technological and military power. Yet beneath the fireworks and patriotic celebrations lies a profound sense of unease.

Poll after poll shows that Americans are becoming increasingly pessimistic about their country’s future. Fewer believe in the American dream. Trust in democratic institutions has eroded. A growing majority fear democracy itself is in danger, and many no longer see the US as the world’s greatest country.

For renowned American political scientist Francis Fukuyama, this contradiction captures the defining challenge of America at 250: a superpower struggling not with a lack of power, but with a loss of confidence.

A superpower divided against itself

The most important factor behind America’s growing pessimism, Fukuyama says, “is the degree of political polarisation in the United States.”

The divisions that began to intensify in the 1990s have, in his view, become far more severe since Donald Trump’s first election in 2016. Americans no longer merely disagree on policy. They increasingly disagree on fundamental questions about their country, their institutions and even one another’s legitimacy.

“Trump and some of his associates have suggested that their domestic enemies, meaning the Democrats, are a bigger enemy than China or Russia,” Fukuyama says. Such sentiments, he argues, make it difficult for the country to pursue common goals, and weaken America’s ability to act coherently, both at home and abroad.

The problem is compounded by what he sees as a widening gap between America’s immense capabilities and its political effectiveness. The US remains the world’s most powerful military force, yet repeated interventions — from Vietnam and Iraq to the current conflict with Iran — demonstrate that military superiority alone cannot deliver political outcomes. This, he says, highlights the disjuncture between America’s apparent power and its inability to achieve many of its objectives.

Democratic backsliding at home

Fukuyama, who has spent decades studying the rise and decline of liberal democracies around the world, believes the US itself is now experiencing democratic erosion. “I think that the erosion of democracy in the United States has already taken place,” he says.

He accuses Trump of attempting to bend American institutions away from their intended constitutional purpose, citing efforts to use the Justice Department against political opponents and to govern through executive orders in areas that constitutionally belong to Congress. “He has really ignored those basic principles,” Fukuyama says.

Yet despite growing fears of instability, he does not believe America is on the verge of civil conflict. “I’m not quite that worried about violence,” he says.

The greater risk, in his view, is not another civil war, but a continued inability to reach consensus on national goals. Polarisation could deepen to the point where Americans become increasingly incapable of acting collectively. “That weakens the country, and it means that we can’t focus on common goals the way we used to.”

Why young Americans are losing faith

Perhaps nowhere is the crisis of confidence more visible than among younger Americans. Polls show that young people are significantly more sceptical about the American dream, less likely to believe the US is exceptional, and more doubtful about the future of democracy itself.

Fukuyama sees both economic and cultural reasons behind this generational shift. “A lot of the discontent is economic,” he says.

Housing affordability has become a major source of frustration. In cities such as San Francisco, where Fukuyama lives, housing shortages have effectively shut younger generations out of the property market. Older homeowners continue to accumulate wealth as property values rise, while younger people increasingly feel locked out of opportunities that previous generations took for granted.

But economics alone does not explain the disillusionment. “I think it’s cultural,” he says.

Many people, particularly younger Americans, have come to believe that elites have “stacked the decks against them” and manipulate political and economic systems to preserve their own advantages. This perception, he argues, has been amplified by the internet, where information is fragmented, verification is difficult and distrust spreads rapidly.

The American dream under strain

The decline of social mobility lies at the heart of the weakening faith in the American dream. “The measured degree of social and economic mobility in the United States has slowed down very dramatically over the last 50 years,” Fukuyama says.

For many Americans, the traditional promise that hard work can lead to a better life no longer feels attainable. Those who cannot access higher education often face diminished economic prospects and lower social status throughout their lives. At the same time, established groups have sought to protect their privileges, limiting opportunities for younger generations to move upward. “That breeds a lot of resentment,” he says.

The result has been a surge in populist politics and growing anger at political and economic elites. Compounding the problem is the internet’s role in spreading conspiracy theories and alternative realities. “We have these really extraordinary conspiracy theories,” Fukuyama says.

The decline of American exceptionalism

Fukuyama does not believe that America has ceased to be exceptional. “There are still ways in which America is exceptional,” he says.

Its economic dynamism remains remarkable for a large, developed economy. Its military capabilities are unrivalled. But America’s self-confidence in its democratic model has weakened. Both conservatives and liberals are increasingly reluctant to portray the US as an example for other countries to emulate. “When the country is as polarised as it is today, it’s hard to say that other countries ought to be similarly polarised.”

The problem, he argues, is not merely disagreement but what political scientists call “affective polarisation” — a condition in which citizens not only disagree but actively dislike and distrust one another. “People don’t just disagree about issues. They really hate each other.”

At the same time, more Americans recognise that other countries outperform the US in certain areas, whether in infrastructure, social welfare or public safety. “It is a complicated picture today,” he says.

A crisis of national identity

For Fukuyama, a functioning democracy ultimately depends on a shared sense of national identity. “You need national identity,” he says. “People have to believe that they’re part of a common political project that is more important than their partisan differences.”

Yet the meaning of American identity has become deeply contested. As the country commemorates the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, the left and right offer sharply different interpretations of American history.

The right, he argues, often seeks to downplay historical injustices such as slavery and discrimination. The left, meanwhile, sometimes presents a narrative in which the US is primarily a source of historical wrongs.

Fukuyama believes a more balanced narrative is possible — one that acknowledges America’s failures while also recognising its extraordinary progress toward a more just and inclusive society. Unfortunately, he says, that moderate centre has largely disappeared.

Decline, but not destiny

Over three decades after publishing The End of History and the Last Man, Fukuyama admits he is more concerned about liberal democracy than he was in the early 1990s. “We’ve been backsliding in terms of democracy really for the last 20 years.”

Authoritarian powers such as China and Russia have become more assertive. Populist movements have emerged across democratic societies. Democracies have weakened in places once considered stable. Yet he remains cautiously optimistic. “I still retain a certain amount of optimism that we will recover from some of these setbacks.”

The US, he says, has repeatedly overcome periods of division and polarisation throughout its history. Still, he believes America is currently experiencing a period of decline. “I think that we are in a period of American decline.”

The country’s overreach abroad and growing disunity at home have weakened its influence. And even after Trump eventually leaves office, his impact will endure. “Donald Trump has completely transformed the Republican Party,” Fukuyama says. “That party has been destroyed. It’s simply disappeared.”

Its former commitment to free trade, immigration and global leadership has been replaced by a new, more nationalist and isolationist vision. That legacy, Fukuyama believes, will outlast Trump himself.

Completing the promise of 1776

When future historians look back on America at 250, Fukuyama believes they will see a country still struggling to fulfil its founding promise. “The main challenge is to complete the promise of 1776.”

Over the past 250 years, America has made enormous progress in expanding rights and equality across race, gender and other dimensions of citizenship. Yet the promise that “all men are created equal” remains incomplete.

At 250, the US is neither a failed state nor a fading superpower. It remains wealthy, innovative and enormously influential. Its greatest challenge may be something more fundamental: whether Americans can rebuild trust in one another, renew confidence in their institutions and recover a sense of common purpose.

The next 250 years, Fukuyama suggests, may depend less on America’s power than on whether it can once again believe in itself.

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