A World in Disarray

What does it mean to live in a world where old rules no longer apply? In A World in Disarray, Richard Haass argues that the international system—built over centuries of treaties, wars, and diplomacy—is unraveling under the pressures of globalization, power diffusion, and political dysfunction. Haass contends that while the twentieth century was defined by efforts to contain great-power conflict, the twenty-first is shaped by something more elusive: the challenge of maintaining order in a fragmented, interdependent world.

For most of history, world order revolved around states respecting one another’s sovereignty, trading cautiously, and balancing power to avoid direct conquest. That system—the so-called Westphalian order born in 1648—worked for centuries because strong countries agreed to leave one another alone. But as Haass demonstrates, the end of the Cold War upended this clarity. Suddenly, there was no bipolar stability, no clear hierarchy, and no widely accepted set of rules to follow. Weak states collapsed, nonstate actors gained influence, and new global challenges like terrorism, climate change, and cyberwar ignored borders that once mattered.

The Promise and Failure of the Post–Cold War Era

At the dawn of the 1990s, leaders like President George H. W. Bush hoped the Cold War’s end would usher in a “new world order”—a global community guided by law, collective security, and cooperation. For a brief moment, initiatives like the Gulf War coalition against Saddam Hussein suggested such collaboration was possible. Yet, only decades later, Haass observes, the optimism proved misplaced. Instead of a world order, we got a world in disarray: rising populism, fraying alliances, and the deterioration of international norms.

Haass traces this decline through vivid examples: Britain’s vote for Brexit, Russia’s annexation of Crimea, the wars in Iraq and Syria, and the spread of terrorism from Afghanistan to Paris. Each event symbolizes a deeper shift—where national politics, economic stagnation, and distrust of globalization have made cooperation harder. States obsess over domestic challenges while global problems such as pandemics and climate change go unmanaged. The old “balance of power” cannot stabilize a landscape where actors like ISIS, multinational corporations, and cybercriminals can disrupt entire regions without commanding armies or flags.

From World Order 1.0 to 2.0

Haass proposes that the world needs a new operating system—what he calls World Order 2.0. The original world order (“1.0”) emphasized sovereignty: governments’ right to control what happens within their borders. Version 2.0 must focus equally on sovereign obligation—states’ responsibilities to others in an interconnected world. Terrorism, financial crises, cyberattacks, and viral diseases do not respect borders, so the notion of “live and let live” no longer works. Sovereignty, Haass insists, must come with duties: to prevent harm from flowing outward, to cooperate in global health and environmental protection, and to uphold basic international norms.

This ambitious shift from rights to responsibilities reflects a practical realism adapted to globalization. Just as the United States led the creation of post–World War II institutions like the UN and the IMF, Haass believes it must now redefine its leadership around cooperation and restraint. Yet, this leadership faces its own crisis—an America increasingly divided, indebted, and reluctant to bear the burdens of global governance. Haass warns that domestic dysfunction at home and populist nationalism abroad undermine efforts to restore order anywhere.

Why This Matters to You

If you live, travel, or work online, Haass’s argument matters directly to you. Globalization ties your security, economy, and health to events far beyond your town’s borders. When disorder grows—whether through pandemics, market volatility, or conflict—the consequences ripple through everyone’s lives. Haass invites readers to think not only as citizens but as global participants: to recognize how interconnected systems require shared responsibility, not isolation.

Across its historical sweep—from the rise of sovereign states to wars, revolutions, and international institutions—Haass’s book ultimately asks: can we design a new global architecture before chaos becomes the norm? His answer is sober but not fatalistic: we can, if the U.S. redefines leadership through cooperation, if states embrace obligations as well as rights, and if citizens understand that national prosperity now depends on global stability. In short, A World in Disarray is both diagnosis and prescription for an age where everything is connected but nothing is under control.

Haass’s first major argument revisits how the concept of world order evolved—from the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648 through the twentieth century’s wars and into the unstable present. He reminds us that the modern state system was built on one radical idea: rulers agreed not to interfere in one another’s internal affairs. This principle of sovereignty ended centuries of conflict rooted in religion and empire, enabling states to focus on diplomacy, trade, and the balance of power rather than endless crusades.

From Westphalia to World Wars

Haass draws on thinkers like Hedley Bull and Henry Kissinger to explain that order depends on three essentials: shared rules, accepted processes for resolving disputes, and a balance of power to enforce them. These principles held until ambitious powers—Prussia under Bismarck, and later Germany and Japan—defied legitimacy through conquest. The twentieth century brought collapse twice: World War I’s accidental descent into chaos and World War II’s deliberate aggression by revisionist states.

After 1945, the Cold War imposed new structure. America and the Soviet Union, despite bitter rivalry, managed a stable balance through nuclear deterrence and clear spheres of influence. This bipolar era wasn’t peaceful, but it was predictable—and predictability, Haass notes, is underrated in world politics. The superpowers’ tacit rules kept conflicts local and prevented escalation, an uneasy but effective framework.

The Post–Cold War Illusion

When the Berlin Wall fell, optimism soared. Many believed history itself had “ended” (as Francis Fukuyama claimed), ushering in democratic capitalism everywhere. President Bush’s vision of a “new world order” promised cooperation instead of rivalry. Yet Haass warns this faith was misplaced: the Soviet Union’s collapse removed discipline without providing replacement rules. Global institutions proved too weak to fill the vacuum, and nonstate actors surged into the spotlight—terror networks, hackers, populist movements.

History, Haass says, “did not repeat but rhymed.” Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait, Bosnia’s ethnic wars, and later Syria’s implosion echoed the same failures: where sovereignty existed without responsibility, chaos spread. Patterns of restraint faded, leaving a patchwork of intervention and indifference. The old Westphalian promise—to manage order through respect for sovereignty—was now outmatched by cross-border threats that sovereignty couldn’t contain.

By walking readers through centuries of diplomacy, Haass shows that disorder isn’t new—but today’s version is uniquely complex because power is fragmented. The question that haunted Vienna’s diplomats in 1815 and Washington’s strategists in 1991 remains unresolved in our time: when order fails, who steps in to rebuild it?

Haass dedicates much of his analysis to understanding how major powers—especially the United States, Russia, and China—contribute to or threaten global stability. His insight feels both historical and urgent: great-power relations remain central to world order, even after the emergence of new actors.

The U.S.–China Relationship

The world’s defining power dynamic, Haass argues, is between America and China. During the Cold War, shared opposition to the Soviet Union unified them. In the post–Cold War period, trade replaced ideology as their link. Two-way commerce exploded—from $20 billion in 1990 to nearly $600 billion by 2015—but tensions grew alongside economic dependence. Incidents like Tiananmen Square (1989), disputes over Taiwan, and Beijing’s actions in the South China Sea reveal China’s push for control and reaction against perceived American dominance.

Haass uses the ancient Thucydides Trap—conflict between rising and ruling powers—to frame this relationship. Yet he insists war is not inevitable. What’s essential is managing competition through integration, not confrontation: maintaining diplomatic channels, economic interdependence, and mutual restraint. The U.S. must signal strength but avoid treating China as an existential adversary, or risk pushing the world into a new cold war.

Russia’s Return to Revisionism

If China reflects a rising power’s impatience, Russia embodies the anger of decline. Post-Soviet Russia, Haass writes, inherited vast territory but lost economic and moral purpose. Vladimir Putin exploited this humiliation by reclaiming influence through aggression—from Georgia in 2008 to Crimea in 2014 and military intervention in Syria. NATO’s eastward expansion, once meant to stabilize Europe, instead deepened Russian paranoia and dismantled trust. Haass questions whether Western leaders showed enough “magnanimity in victory” (echoing Churchill) to integrate Russia rather than isolate it.

Still, he emphasizes that Russia’s ambitions are regional, not global. Containment isn’t the answer; integration and deterrence are. America must strengthen allies in Europe while opening pathways for cooperation with Moscow on issues like arms control and counterterrorism. Otherwise, he warns, friction may escalate, recreating the patterns of the nineteenth century’s rival empires but with nuclear stakes.

Across these studies, Haass reminds readers that managing great powers isn’t only about military might—it’s about disciplined diplomacy. The Cold War’s balance kept the peace not through trust but through clarity. Today, clarity is harder to find, and the consequences of its absence are felt from cyberspace to Crimea.

One of Haass’s most compelling ideas is his redefinition of sovereignty for the age of globalization. Traditionally, sovereignty meant absolute control within borders. Haass reconfigures it as a balance of rights and obligations. In a connected world, what happens in one nation can instantly affect others—disease, terrorism, emissions, financial contagion—so governments must accept duties toward the international community.

From Responsibility to Protect to Sovereign Obligation

The twentieth century’s humanitarian doctrine, known as Responsibility to Protect (R2P), claimed the world should intervene when a state abused its people. Haass agrees with the moral impulse but finds its practice inconsistent—misused in Libya, ignored in Syria. Instead, he suggests moving beyond R2P to sovereign obligation: every government has a duty to prevent domestic actions from harming others. This concept, he says, transforms sovereignty from a shield into a partnership.

For example, nations must curb carbon emissions that contribute to climate disasters abroad, regulate cyberspace to prevent malicious hacking, and stop terrorists from operating within their borders. Sovereign obligation doesn’t abolish sovereignty; it modernizes it. The goal is realism adjusted for interconnectedness—a “World Order 2.0” where cooperation is driven not by altruism but by enlightened self-interest.

Realism Meets Idealism

Haass’s philosophy bridges two American traditions: Wilsonian idealism (which seeks to reshape regimes around democracy and human rights) and realism (which focuses on power and stability). He argues that both are inadequate alone. Intervening for moral reasons can lead to chaos; ignoring moral imperatives fosters resentment and extremism. Sovereign obligation offers a middle path: respecting states’ autonomy while demanding their accountability for global consequences.

In redefining what makes international behavior legitimate, Haass suggests a practical ethical code for diplomacy. States must live by the principle that what goes on inside their borders no longer stays there—and pretending otherwise is what fuels the world’s disarray.

Haass’s regional analysis gives the reader a tour of twenty-first-century disorder—from the Middle East’s implosion to Asia’s uneasy calm and Europe’s internal crisis. Each region, he shows, illustrates distinct patterns of instability and what can be learned from them.

The Middle East: Permanent Upheaval

The Middle East, Haass writes, is “iatrogenic”—a patient made worse by its own doctors. Foreign interventions, from the 2003 Iraq War to the 2011 Libyan campaign, turned local ailments into systemic breakdowns. The Arab Spring exposed the hollowness of authoritarian regimes and the perils of premature democracy. States collapsed into sectarian militias. Syria exemplifies every failure of R2P and global coordination—millions displaced, borders erased, extremists empowered.

Haass prescribes modest ambitions for the region: manage crises instead of solving them, prioritize counterterrorism, and accept de facto autonomy zones where centralized states are unlikely to return. The U.S., he cautions, must neither abandon the Middle East nor attempt to remake it. The “Goldilocks” approach—doing not too much, not too little—is the only sustainable path.

Asia-Pacific: Stability Amid Tension

In contrast, East Asia shows that strong states and economic interdependence can preserve peace. The U.S. “pivot to Asia” was strategically wise, but implementation lagged. Regional disputes—the South China Sea, Korea, Taiwan—could become flashpoints without continuous American engagement. Haass proposes a security architecture modeled loosely on Europe’s Helsinki process, with confidence-building measures and shared crisis-management tools. Asia’s stability, he argues, should not be taken for granted; its prosperity depends on diplomacy as much as trade.

Europe and Beyond

Europe’s story since 1990 is one of integration and fragmentation in parallel. The European Union expanded, but economic stagnation, migration, and populism eroded trust in Brussels. Brexit epitomized this rebellion against supranational governance. Haass urges reforms that make integration more flexible—for example, variable levels of EU membership and better coordination in defense spending. Only a pragmatic Europe can remain a pillar of global order.

By comparing regions across the globe, Haass reveals that disorder is not uniform—it’s localized, but contagious. Whether in Cairo, Beijing, or London, domestic governance now drives global stability. The local and global have merged; each failure reverberates worldwide.

In later chapters, Haass moves from diagnosis to prescription. He insists that designing order isn’t about utopian schemes but disciplined statecraft. The task begins with avoiding great-power conflict while adapting institutions and policies to a multipolar, nonstate world.

Thwarting Thucydides

To “thwart Thucydides,” Haass advises a mix of deterrence and integration. The U.S. should maintain credible military presence—air and naval forces in the Pacific, ground and air units in Europe—to prevent miscalculations. But strength alone isn’t enough. Diplomatic interdependence—frequent, focused consultations—must accompany it, complemented by economic ties that make stability profitable. Sanctions, he warns, should be sharp but reversible, targeting specific behaviors rather than entire relationships.

Building World Order 2.0

Haass’s World Order 2.0 concept demands global norms for issues that define our century: terrorism, proliferation, climate, cyber threats, and pandemics. He suggests practical frameworks—best practices multilateralism (where states commit publicly to progress), designer coalitions (small groups that act effectively), and inclusion of nonstate actors from NGOs to tech firms. Order now requires collaboration beyond governments. The internet, for instance, cannot be governed solely by states; corporate and civil society voices must shape cyber rules.

“There is no invisible hand in geopolitics,” Haass reminds readers. Human design—not accident—creates order. Chaos fills any vacuum left by complacency.

For Haass, the United States must lead this design—but to lead abroad, it must reform at home. That means restoring political functionality, responsible budgets, and public understanding of global interdependence. His final plea is that citizens and leaders alike see foreign policy not as distant abstraction but domestic necessity. Global disorder begins within nations, and only nations acting together can end it.

In his closing argument, Haass turns inward: the United States cannot stabilize the world until it stabilizes itself. He outlines the paradox facing America—the world’s most powerful and indispensable country is increasingly politically divided, economically indebted, and socially distrustful.

Foreign Policy Begins at Home

Echoing his earlier book by that title, Haass declares national renewal as a prerequisite for global leadership. Strong foreign policy requires a strong domestic foundation—robust economic growth, good education, sustainable budgets, and functional governance. America’s debt, nearing its economic output, threatens future flexibility and undermines credibility abroad. He calls this a “slow-motion crisis,” dangerous precisely because it unfolds too gradually to provoke action.

The Politics of Dysfunction

Haass diagnoses Washington’s paralysis: hyperpartisan primaries, special interests, and media fragmentation have eroded compromise. This “crisis of followership” leaves both parties hostage to extremes. He advocates procedural reforms—open primaries, redistricting, and calmer legislative rules—to restore centrism. For leaders, he calls for an FDR-style engagement with citizens, explaining complex global realities in relatable terms.

Global Responsibilities, Domestic Integrity

Haass insists that American leadership must be consistent and credible. Allies depend on predictability, not perfection. Isolationism—revived under slogans of “America First”—is, he warns, self-defeating. Without active U.S. engagement, global order cannot sustain itself; history shows that vacuums invite chaos. The lesson is clear: national strength and moral steadiness at home are not optional—they’re the bedrock of international peace.

Ultimately, Haass ends where he began, invoking realism tempered with hope. Disorder is not destiny. If America reforms its politics, remembers its responsibilities, and helps design “World Order 2.0,” then cooperation—not collapse—can define our century.