What If The United States Became a Rogue State? Should Great Britain Be Worried?

Let me be clear: I’m not engaging in hyperbole when I pose this question. As we witness the unfolding transformation of American governance under the restored Trump presidency, the international community faces an unprecedented dilemma. The special relationship between Britain and America – long the cornerstone of global democratic stability – now presents us with profound challenges.

The Project 2025 blueprint, meticulously prepared during Trump’s hiatus from power, reads less like a traditional transition plan and more like a manifesto for institutional demolition. Its architects have made no secret of their intentions: the systematic dismantling of what they term the “deep state” – in reality, the very bureaucratic safeguards that have long prevented executive overreach.

Consider the appointments. The installation of loyalists across federal agencies isn’t merely standard political patronage; it represents a fundamental restructuring of American governance. Career civil servants, those repositories of institutional knowledge and regulatory expertise, are being replaced by individuals whose primary qualification appears to be unwavering personal fealty to the president.

The consequences for Britain’s defence and security infrastructure are particularly alarming. Our military doctrine, built upon decades of joint operations and shared intelligence, suddenly stands on unstable ground. The Five Eyes intelligence-sharing agreement – arguably the most sophisticated multilateral intelligence arrangement in history – faces unprecedented strain. American intelligence agencies, now under explicitly political leadership, have already begun restricting certain intelligence flows, citing “national security reorganisation priorities.”

Consider the implications for our armed forces. Joint military exercises, long the backbone of NATO interoperability, are being cancelled or dramatically scaled back. British commanders report increasing difficulty in coordinating with their American counterparts, many of whom have been replaced by political appointees with limited military experience. The integrated defence systems that protect our shores – many reliant on American technology and real-time data sharing – face potential compromises in their effectiveness.

The economic ramifications are equally concerning. The City of London, which has thrived on its role as a crucial hub for dollar-denominated transactions, faces new uncertainties. American financial regulators, now operating under a “America First” directive, have begun implementing measures that effectively discriminate against foreign financial institutions, including British ones. The pound sterling’s traditional correlation with the dollar has become a liability rather than a stability mechanism.

Our defence industry, deeply integrated with American suppliers and technologies, faces severe disruption. Critical components for everything from our nuclear deterrent to our cyber-defence systems rely on American cooperation. The new administration’s “domestic preference” policies threaten to sever supply chains that have taken decades to build. British defence manufacturers, who have invested heavily in joint projects with American partners, now face the prospect of being frozen out of key markets.

The foreign policy pivot is particularly alarming. The new administration’s embrace of what they call “pragmatic nationalism” has effectively translated into the abandonment of longstanding alliances. NATO, already weakened during Trump’s first term, now faces existential questions about its relevance. The president’s recent remarks about “letting Putin sort out Europe” sent shockwaves through diplomatic circles, yet they barely raised eyebrows in Washington’s new political reality.

For Britain, this presents an excruciating dilemma. Our diplomatic corps, accustomed to navigating the special relationship’s occasional turbulence, now faces a fundamental question: How does one maintain a strategic partnership with a nation that increasingly rejects the very international order it helped create?

The impact on our cyber security is particularly worrying. The integrated nature of British-American cyber defence means that any degradation in cooperation immediately increases our vulnerability to state-sponsored attacks. The National Cyber Security Centre, which has relied heavily on real-time threat intelligence from American partners, reports a significant decrease in the quality and quantity of shared information.

The parallels with historical shifts in global power dynamics are unsettling. Like the decline of previous empires, America’s transition from global stabiliser to potential disruptor isn’t happening through military defeat or economic collapse, but through internal transformation. The machinery of state remains intact; it’s the operating system that’s being rewritten.

Critics might dismiss these concerns as catastrophising from the liberal establishment. But consider the concrete actions: the withdrawal from key international treaties, the deliberate undermining of multilateral institutions, the embrace of authoritarian leaders while democratic allies are publicly berated. These aren’t theoretical risks – they’re happening in real time.

The implications for Britain’s defence posture are stark. Our nuclear deterrent, while operationally independent, relies heavily on American technology and support. The new administration’s ambiguous stance on nuclear cooperation agreements has raised serious questions about long-term sustainability. The Royal Navy’s carrier strike groups, designed to operate in concert with American forces, may need to be reconceptualised for a world where such cooperation cannot be guaranteed.

Some in Whitehall advocate a “wait and see” approach, suggesting that institutional inertia will temper the administration’s more radical impulses. This misreads both the scope of the Project 2025 agenda and the determination of its implementers. The systematic placement of ideological allies throughout the federal bureaucracy creates a multiplication effect that could outlast the administration itself.

What’s required is a clear-eyed reassessment of Britain’s strategic position. This doesn’t mean abandoning the special relationship, but rather reconceptualising it for an era where American partnership comes with new risks and complications. Strengthening European security cooperation, diversifying intelligence partnerships, and building resilience against potential economic coercion should be immediate priorities.

The question isn’t whether America will remain powerful – it will. The question is how that power will be wielded, and whether the international community can adapt to an America that increasingly views global relationships through a transactional, zero-sum lens.

For Britain, this may mean making difficult choices. Our diplomatic tradition of constructive ambiguity – maintaining close ties with both Europe and America – may no longer be sustainable if those relationships pull us in fundamentally different directions.

The coming months will be crucial. As Project 2025’s implementations accelerate and the new administration’s foreign policy takes concrete form, Britain’s response will shape not just bilateral relations but our place in the emerging global order. The special relationship isn’t dead, but it’s entering uncharted territory. We must navigate with our eyes wide open to both the risks and the opportunities this presents.

This isn’t about abandoning our American allies – it’s about protecting our own interests in an era where those allies may be operating under a radically different set of priorities. The question in my headline isn’t merely provocative; it’s one that British policymakers must seriously consider as they plan for an increasingly uncertain future.