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The New Age of American Hegemony
In a major book coming out next month, the author tracks the gradual decay of the main social networks, which have neglected both their users and the quality of their services. It’s not just about buggy newsfeeds or questionable algorithm changes; it’s about something much deeper: the reassertion of American dominance. This hegemony, rooted in the control of networks—financial systems, military alliances, technological advantage—is now being openly exploited to extract resources and flex power.
In other words, America is now leveraging its dominance to make its allies pay a premium for the very security and prosperity they were supposed to enjoy in the US-led post-World War II order. In a speech at the Hudson Institute in April, new Federal Reserve Board member Stephen Miran outlined what this new imperial tribute could look like: tariffs, increased purchases of American goods, investment in the US, or direct payments to the Treasury.
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The mechanism put in place in Washington goes far beyond simple blackmail. The Trump administration seeks to use American control over digital infrastructures to turn Europe into a far-right vassal. Subtle? Barely.
Europe’s Quiet Digital Dependence
Over the past two decades, European societies have undergone a radical transformation. Slowly and almost imperceptibly, the continent’s democracies have built themselves on top of American information and communication infrastructures. The days of technocrats and state-owned telecommunication monopolies have faded out, replaced by online networks. Now, Europeans think, communicate and debate on platforms created and controlled by American corporations. And these services have become far more entwined with our daily lives, societies, and political decisions than any communication technology of the past.
This dependency has led to a distortion: European decisions around free speech are now contingent on US choices. In legislative terms, what happens across the Atlantic steers and even governs what goes on here. As long as the European vision of democracy and freedom of expression wasn’t too far from the American model, this was tolerated—and tolerable. Sure, Americans’ love for the First Amendment clashed with practices in countries like Germany and France. In Berlin, for example, laws are in place to theoretically prevent the far right from seizing power in the first place.
That means Germany classifies its opponents’ political statements as hate speech, using all available means to punish, censor, or ban them. Lately, there’s been an uptick in violent content and harassment on platforms like Meta’s Facebook and Instagram. Others, such as X (formerly Twitter), not only allow the far right to speak but actively encourage it, using algorithms that suppress links to external sources.
X amplifies the radical opinions of its owner, Elon Musk, echoing those of top Trump administration figures. For instance, J.D. Vance repeatedly attacked European restrictions on what can and can’t be said online. Through official channels, the US State Department has called these restrictions an “aggressive campaign against Western civilization.”
Digital Regulation, Transatlantic Friction
Marco Rubio, representing the US as Secretary of State, imposed financial sanctions on a judge of Brazil’s Supreme Court—officially for ordering social networks to suspend Brazilian accounts. In reality, Judge Moraes was leading the investigation that resulted in the conviction of former president Jair Bolsonaro for his attempted coup.
But it doesn’t stop there. The US is reportedly considering sanctions against officials in the EU and its member states when they enforce the Digital Services Act—European rules requiring online platforms to comply with local standards on hate speech. Along the same lines, President Trump threatened (despite the so-called “Turnberry deal” with the EU) “substantial additional tariffs” and export restrictions on semiconductors. Although he vaguely referred to “countries imposing taxes, laws, rules, or regulations on digital matters” without specifically naming Europe, the target was clear enough.
To really grasp this, we need a new interpretative framework: the Trump administration doesn’t see European countries as partners, but as vassals. To bring Europe to heel, the US uses the sort of international tools we’ve described in our research on the weaponization of dependencies: sanctions, export controls, tariffs.
Contrary to what you might think, this isn’t just about state-to-state relations or Washington angling for a larger share of global economic benefits. The real aim is to change the way information is governed on networks shared by the US and European Union countries—networks now underpinning their political systems.
In short: the Trump administration now demands core structures of European democracy be reshaped to abolish measures limiting far-right expression.
And Washington has some serious leverage: the infrastructure for European political and social debate is controlled by US companies. What’s new is that American platform CEOs have abandoned the defense of democracy and now support, sometimes even endorse, Trump-era policies and values.
There’s no pretense here; American officials are open and resolute. Their aim is regime change: shaping democracies—in Europe and elsewhere—in their own image.
Weaponised Interdependence and the Future of European Democracy
The family of Jair Bolsonaro—Brazil’s former president, convicted for trying to overthrow democracy—allegedly pressured the US to sanction Brazilian courts and government. Elsewhere in Europe, far-right politicians prod the Trump administration to attack EU rules governing social media: the freer platforms are to unleash prejudice and sectarianism, the better far-right parties fare at the polls.
The alliance coming into focus is unprecedented, a coalition between US digital giants and foreign political parties, deploying America’s immense coercive power—against its own allies, no less.
In previous work, we examined the idea of “weaponised interdependence”: how major powers can use chokepoints in global systems for their benefit. As economic, communication, financial, and production networks have centered around a handful of major market players, the US government realized it could pressure both allies and adversaries by restricting access to these nodes. If you’re targeted by the US Treasury, your own banks freeze your accounts, and any company with US exposure will refuse to deal with you. This power can go further: even utility companies may hesitate to supply energy to sanctioned clients.
This stranglehold on financial networks gives the US a major edge in transatlantic relations. This leverage explains why Europe could do little when the first Trump administration withdrew from the Iran nuclear deal and then went after European firms connected to Tehran.
More broadly, businesses, interest groups, and political parties have come to accept that politics can no longer be contained within national borders. To be concrete: if your country’s institutions block your goals, you can go abroad to escape the rules, find partners in other jurisdictions, and forge transnational coalitions. Conversely, as markets transcend borders, a change on a major market—even one not your own—can ricochet home, reshaping or overturning rules you dislike.
Freed from the bureaucratic red tape of the past, the Trump administration seeks to reshape other countries’ rules to benefit its political allies—regardless of those countries’ voters’ preferences. This deliberate instrumentalization determines when and against whom these tools will be used. In return, foreign factions look to the Trump administration to help remodel their own governments to their advantage and to the detriment of their rivals.
The United Kingdom, like other European countries, prosecutes threats against immigrants and minorities. Yet European users primarily rely on US-based platforms like Facebook and X, which means if European or British regulators want to govern what their citizens say—or read—online, they need American companies to play ball.
When British citizen Lucy Connolly advocated on X that hotels full of migrants be set on fire, she was convicted of a hate crime and sent to prison. Farage claimed that while Connolly’s remarks “may have been inelegantly expressed,” they shouldn’t have been criminalized just because many people agreed with her. At the Capitol, he argued that the US should refuse to let Europeans set rules for American platforms, using diplomatic channels and “trade forums” to defend that position.
These statements were welcomed by Jim Jordan, who complained that the Digital Services Act and Digital Markets Act “target our tech companies that provide the modern public square and [are] the engines of innovation in our global economy.”
These laws, he said, are even “the drivers of a global censorship regime targeting political speech disliked by European bureaucrats.” The House committee president promised to “continue advancing legislation that protects free speech from threats, including those from abroad.” On the other side of the aisle, Democratic committee member Jamie Raskin pointed out the irony of Farage campaigning for political change in the US Congress rather than Westminster.
This inversion reflects shifting relationships between the US, the EU, and countries like the UK. Despite his avowed nationalism, Farage masterfully manipulated global interdependence—campaigning for Brexit within the European Parliament! In Washington, in front of Congress, he made an essential demonstration, a symptom of a new era: to defend your interests at home, it’s now easier to address the US directly.
On US soil and abroad, America now defines free speech as the freedom to express opinions that serve the Trump camp’s political interests. That now means not just Republicans, but digital corporations themselves. As Jamie Raskin told Rana Foroohar of the Financial Times,
“If the driving force behind the ‘free speech’ campaign is America’s big tech companies and their lobbyists, Trump, Farage, and other right-wing figures are also milking that vein.”
The evidence is there: Mark Zuckerberg, Facebook’s CEO, reportedly met with Trump and lobbied him just before Trump threatened significant new tariffs to punish European digital legislation. Clearly, these threats are selectively deployed—a calculated restraint not to protect universal free speech, but to pick winners and losers.
This is nothing new in itself: using interdependence to build cross-border coalitions and win political battles abroad as a backdoor way to advance your cause at home is an old American tactic. But the new alliance takes this further: a coalition of US tech giants with foreign political parties, using America’s coercive might—against its allies.
Europe on the Defensive: What Now?
If Europe wants to preserve its model of democracy, short-term compromises that only deepen its dependence on hostile digital networks won’t cut it. It’s a daunting engineering challenge. Some approaches, such as the AT protocol behind the Bluesky social platform, are more resilient to weaponization—but, for the same reason, they also resist other forms of regulation.
- One possible move: raise the political cost for those ready to play the US against their own country. Marine Le Pen’s party reportedly met with US State Department officials regarding legal action against its leader, but rejected their offer fearing electoral backlash. Others were less cautious: the Bolsonaro family’s efforts to secure sanctions against Brazil likely damaged their party’s appeal.
- Shedding light on these new influence games is crucial for shaping public opinion. Civil liberties groups showed the way during the debate on European privacy rules, highlighting the pressure American companies exerted on the EU to undermine proposed changes. Likewise, EU coordination could expose and publicly condemn actors—both tacit and overt—who lobby for American intervention against their own countries.
- Jamie Raskin has called for “transnational democratic solidarity” against the growing alliance between the far right and big tech. If Democrats regain control of at least one chamber of Congress in upcoming elections, enhanced transatlantic coordination between European and US political leaders could benefit both sides and stall antidemocratic moves.
- At a minimum, European leaders should avoid strengthening the far right by giving in to opportunistic calls from domestic industry to exploit outside pressure for deregulation.
On the national level, regulators still enjoy significant autonomy from governments when deciding what digital companies are allowed to do. However, if the EU abandons a rules-based approach for arbitrary, ad-hoc deals, the risks could be particularly high. Trade and economic negotiations between Europe and the US cannot interfere with free speech rules without severely threatening Europe’s ability to safeguard its democratic model.












