The strategy emerged from a moment of truth. Years of military overstretch, industrial erosion, and fiscal strain have collided with domestic anxieties over migration, trade imbalances, and energy security. The document acknowledges, indirectly, that the United States can no longer afford to be everywhere, doing everything, for everyone. In response, it narrows the definition of what truly matters for the United States––the Western Hemisphere.

The Western Hemisphere is elevated as the primary theater of concern by invoking a 200-year-old policy of the Monroe Doctrine that rejects external influence close to home. The Middle East is quietly downgraded, its strategic relevance diminished by American energy independence. Europe, which was once a central theater to Washington’s worldview, is urged to take primary responsibility for its own security and political future by restoring stability within the region.

The strategy is not one of isolationism, as the NSS is careful to reject that label. As per the document, the United States will continue to prevent adversaries from dominating key regions. Nowhere is this commitment clearer than in the Indo-Pacific, where China is described as a main competitor. But while the ends remain familiar, the means have changed. The burden of maintaining or reinforcing regional balance is no longer something Washington is willing, or claims it should ever have been expected, to carry alone.

The Indo-Pacific strategy outlined in the NSS revolves around the First Island Chain, the arc of territory stretching from Japan through Taiwan to the Philippines. This geography is cast as the front line of any future conflict in East Asia. The United States pledges to build a force capable of denying aggression anywhere along this chain; however, it also emphasizes that such denial must be collective. Diplomacy will be used to press allies to increase defense spending and investment in deterrence-focused capabilities. In effect, the strategy seeks to integrate partnered militaries into a dense denial network in which primary responsibility lies with regional partners, with the U.S. aiding through commercial matters, technology sharing, and defense procurement.

There is a cold logic to this approach. If successful, it would complicate any Chinese military campaign, raising costs through layered defenses, maritime surveillance, anti-ship missiles, cyber capabilities, and hardened infrastructure. It would allow the United States to concentrate on high-end enablers such as artificial intelligence, quantum computing, and missile defense, while others invest in the less glamorous but more geographically exposed components of deterrence. This move can be seen as a reconfiguration designed to make competition with China cheaper and more sustainable for Washington.

Nevertheless, for America’s partners, the strategy feels less like empowerment and more like exposure. Japan offers the clearest example. Tokyo is amid a historic military buildup. Its defense budget now exceeds 9 trillion yen and is on track to reach 2 percent of its GDP, a threshold once unthinkable in a country shaped by postwar pacifism. Japan is acquiring long-range standoff missiles, expanding coastal defenses, and revising its security doctrines to prepare for contingencies that explicitly include Taiwan. These steps reflect genuine threat perceptions, particularly as Chinese military activity intensifies near Japanese territory. But they also reveal how burden shifting works in practice, and Japan is expected to bear frontline risks in a conflict whose escalation dynamics it might not be able to fully control.

South Korea’s dilemma is even starker. Long praised as a model non-proliferation state, Seoul built its security on trust in the American nuclear umbrella. That trust is now fraying. North Korea’s arsenal has grown more sophisticated, and its missiles are more mobile and survivable. At the same time, the South Koreans are increasingly skeptical that Washington would risk Los Angeles or New York to save Seoul, particularly amid U.S. political polarization and the personalization of foreign policy under President Donald Trump. The NSS urges partners to spend more and do more for collective defense, but it cannot dispel the fundamental fear that extended deterrence may fail at the moment of truth. The result is a once-taboo debate over whether South Korea needs its own nuclear weapons, a debate that speaks volumes about how burden shifting erodes confidence even as it seeks to strengthen deterrence.

The Philippines illustrates another facet of this strategy. Cast as a frontline state in the South China Sea, Manila is offered expanded U.S. access under the Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement. The benefits are tangible; however, the risks are also profound. Philippine lawmakers have openly questioned whether hosting U.S. forces makes the country a target without ensuring reciprocal American vulnerability. There is a lingering fear of becoming a buffer state, absorbing grey-zone pressure while great powers manage escalation elsewhere. These developments urged Manila to deepen ties with Washington, but simultaneously diversify partnerships with Japan, France, India, and regional neighbors to avoid being locked into a proxy role.

These anxieties are compounded by the broader signals the NSS sends about American leadership. The document features President Trump with unusual prominence, underscoring how closely U.S. strategy is now associated with a single, mercurial figure. Its harsh treatment of European allies will not go unnoticed in Asia, where confidence in U.S. commitments has always rested as much on perception as on capability. The strategy also stated that “the outsized influence of larger, richer, and stronger nations is a timeless truth of international relations.” This assertion is most striking because it indicates that international order rests on the rule of the major powers. This framing implicitly places major powers (Washington, Moscow, and Beijing) in an exclusive tier of decisive actors and reminds the middle powers that their agency has limits. For allies asked to shoulder greater burdens, such language offers little reassurance.

A familiar Asia strategy thus sits alongside a more disquieting and unsettled redefinition of global leadership. The United States still seeks to shape outcomes, deter adversaries, and preserve its primacy. But it increasingly does so by asking others to stand closer to the fire. Whether allies will continue to accept that role, without firmer guarantees and clearer commitments, may determine not only the future of the Indo-Pacific but the credibility of American power itself.

Sidra Shaukat is a Research Officer at the Strategic Vision Institute (SVI), a leading Pakistani think tank focused on nuclear and strategic affairs. Her research and commentary have addressed peaceful uses of nuclear technologies, Pakistan’s Nuclear Regulatory Authority, nuclear diplomacy, and broader geostrategic developments in South Asia, Europe, and the Middle East across various platforms. A full list of her publications is available on SVI’s website. Views Expressed in this article are author’s own.

America’s Managed Retreat: How the 2025 U.S. National Security Strategy Shifts the Burden to Allies was originally published on Global Security Review.

The primary objective of Biden’s integrated deterrence strategy was to harmonize and unify the efforts of various government agencies and allied nations to deter aggression from China and other hostile actors. To achieve this objective, the strategy aimed to maximise the utilisation of all available tools of American power, encompassing diplomacy, intelligence, economic assistance, and force posture decisions. Integration with allies and partners was an integral component of Biden’s deterrence strategy and would be achieved by enhancing the interoperability of allied military forces and coordinating the diplomatic and economic initiatives of friendly nations.

While the goals of integrated deterrence appear sensible, many expressed concerns about the concept. Some claimed the term was not new or unique. It simply described the implementation of any effective, tailored deterrence strategy that leverage various organisations to prevent hostile actions.

American deterrence was executed in an integrated fashion throughout the Cold War by necessity, thanks to the size and significance of the Soviet threat. Concerns were also expressed that proponents of integrated deterrence overstated the ability of sanctions, diplomacy, and other non-military tools to prevent conflict. History shows that the threat of major military action has a unique strength in deterring an enemy, especially when that threat comes from a nation with a nuclear arsenal.

Regardless of one’s stance on integrated deterrence and its implementation, a coordinated US strategy that leverages the strengths of its allies should be preferred to the alternative currently being pursued in Washington. A lack of integration in deterrence matters is evident both within the US government and in its interactions with partners and allies.

Within the United States government, there are several reported disconnects between President Trump and senior members of his administration. For example, Secretary of State Marco Rubio was first informed of Trump’s proposal to take Gaza by military force and evict Palestinians while watching a press conference held by Trump and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. Furthermore, it was recently reported that Rubio is “privately frustrated that Trump has effectively sidelined him.” More recently, Signal messages disclosed highlight significant differences between Vice President Vance and President Trump on the timing and signaling associated with strikes on Houthi targets.

This lack of vertical integration diminishes the authority that the secretary holds in meetings with both allies and adversaries. Additionally, it eliminates the potential for any exchange of ideas that could transpire within the Department of State to develop more effective policy options to present to the president.

Horizontal integration of deterrence across various departments was also weakened, partially by budgetary cuts and eliminations of entire organizations. Foreign assistance and development resources were pivotal components of the 2022 Indo-Pacific Strategy. However, extensive cuts made to the United States Agency for International Development and other government agencies by the Department of Government Efficiency did not fully consider or comprehend the regional implications or potential negative impacts on deterrence.

To date, much of Trump’s foreign policy is focused on addressing conflicts in Europe and the Middle East. A strategy for dealing with China, beyond the use of tariffs and other economic measures, is yet to be revealed. There are lessons to be learned from what has transpired with allies facing a menacing Russian threat in Europe.

President Trump consistently urges the North Atlantic Treaty Organization’s (NATO) member-states to significantly enhance their defence expenditures, even suggesting that 5 percent of their gross domestic product (GDP) may be an appropriate threshold. For those nations that fail to meet NATO’s spending guidelines, Trump stated that US military support under Article 5 may not be available. While NATO nations were increasing defense spending prior to Trump taking office (a 20 percent increase in 2024), Germany and the United Kingdom (UK) recently announced plans to further bolster defense budgets.

While additional insights into Trump’s approach to allies in the Indo-Pacific are anticipated in the coming weeks and months, Australia should draw upon several valuable early lessons. The first pertains to the long-standing Canberra tradition of analyzing and dissecting the statements and writings of senior officials within an American administration to comprehend policy. Maintaining cordial relations with officials at all levels of the US government remains prudent, but it is uncertain whether statements from senior administration officials can be relied upon to fully reflect Trump’s perspectives.

Furthermore, the current level of Australian defense spending, which accounts for 2 percent of GDP, will not meet Trump’s expectations for allies. A pre-emptive move to increase defense spending to 2.5 percent of GDP by 2027, similar to what was announced in February by the UK, would demonstrate Australia’s national commitment to addressing its deteriorating strategic circumstances and to contributing more towards its share of the alliance. If President Trump has made one thing clear to allies, it is that if they do not value their own defense neither will he.

Carl Rhodes is founder of Robust Policy and a senior fellow with the National Institute for Deterrence Studies. Carl hosts the Deterrence Down Under podcast and previously spent 25 years with RAND Corporation. Carl has a PhD in chemical engineering from Caltech.

Trump’s Disintegrated Deterrence and Lessons for Australia was originally published on Global Security Review.