The arc of American foreign policy stretches across more than a century, yet it reveals a striking continuity beneath shifting rhetorical veneers. Woodrow Wilson proclaimed US entry into the First World War as a crusade “to make the world safe for democracy” and to fight the “war to end all wars.” Donald Trump, more than a 100 years later, campaigned on promises to terminate “forever wars” and pursue an “America First” doctrine that would extricate the United States from endless military entanglements. Despite these contrasting idioms – one draped in liberal idealism, the other in ultra-nationalist aggression – the underlying imperial project persists. The American war machine marches on, largely indifferent to widespread popular opposition both at home and abroad.The Wilsonian foundationWilson’s vision in 1917 was never purely altruistic. Analyses of the US-led liberal international order show that the president’s rhetoric masked a selective universalism rooted in Anglo-Saxon racial hierarchies and American exceptionalism. The League of Nations, meant to institutionalise peace, was intended as a mechanism to extend US influence while preserving imperial privileges for the victors, even though the US ultimately did not join the organisation. Interventions in Latin America and beyond demonstrated that Wilson’s promotion of democracy was conditional – applied where it advanced US primacy and withheld elsewhere. This pattern established a template: high-minded language legitimising power projection, military expansion and elite-driven global dominance.Illustration: Pariplab Chakraborty.The bipartisan foreign policy establishment that emerged from this era – think tanks, foundations and networks of corporate and academic elites – ensured continuity. In Foundations of the American Century, and using works by several other authors, I trace how these non-state actors manufactured consent for hegemony, insulating policy from democratic accountability. Even as public sentiment shifted against narrow nationalism or interventionism, the machinery adapted, framing each new commitment as essential to freedom, security or civilisation.The Trumpian mutationTrump’s rhetoric appeared to rupture this tradition. His 2016 campaign denounced the bipartisan “swamp” of endless wars in Iraq, Afghanistan and Syria, vowing to bring troops home and prioritise American interests over global policing. He attacked NATO as obsolete, expanding eastwards and causing conflicts with Russia. He frequently boasted of being the first president in decades not to start a new war, a claim that held in the narrow sense of avoiding full-scale invasions or declared conflicts on the scale of Iraq or Afghanistan.Yet, as I detail in columns such as Trump is the Dark Shadow of US Exceptionalism, Not its Subversion, Trump did not dismantle the empire; he stripped away its liberal pretensions. His first term was marked by heightened militarism: defence budgets rose sharply – from around $600 billion pre-Trump to $700–$750 billion annually – reversing post-sequester constraints and funding troop surges, expanded drone operations, and modernisation of nuclear forces. Military violence persisted and intensified through escalated airstrikes, relaxed rules of engagement, and proxy engagements, contributing to higher civilian casualties in inherited theatres like Afghanistan and Yemen.Even in the case of Iran, where Trump authorised the 2020 drone strike killing General Qassem Soleimani, the administration initially framed the action around preventing “imminent” threats to US personnel. Over time, justifications shifted toward broader deterrence and response to prior attacks, yet echoes of humanitarian or protective motives – safeguarding American lives and interests – emerged as drivers, blending realist power projection with selective moral framing. This mirrored the exceptionalist pattern: even blunt nationalist policies often adopt humanitarian or defensive rationales to legitimise force.The “forever wars” label, ironically, highlighted the endurance of the same commitments Trump claimed to reject. Military budgets swelled, alliances were rebranded rather than abandoned, and interventions continued under new justifications. I suggest this describes a mutation within exceptionalism: the imperial core remains intact, even as the packaging changes from multilateral idealism to unilateral assertiveness. Trump’s approach exposed the bipartisan consensus that sustains the machine – defence contractors, intelligence agencies, and foreign policy elites who thrive regardless of the occupant in the White House.Popular oppositionThroughout this history, domestic and international resistance has repeatedly challenged imperial overreach. Vietnam-era protests constrained escalation and (eventually) forced withdrawal. Opposition to Reagan’s Central American interventions limited their scale through Congressional action. Post-9/11 anti-war movements influenced Obama’s pledges, Trump’s campaign promises, and Biden-era rhetoric of restraint. In recent years, mass mobilisations against escalations – whether in Gaza, Ukraine, or broader “forever wars” – have exposed deep fractures in legitimacy.In my previous columns – The Enduring Impact of Protest: Mass Opposition to Forever Wars and Its Echoes in Today’s Politics and US Anti-War Protests Unmask Trumpism’s Imperial Core – I show the power of protest in American history. Drawing on Gramscian notions of hegemony, these movements are counter-hegemonic struggles that erode manufactured consent, reveal contradictions and compel adjustments. Marches, boycotts and electoral pressures have forced policy recalibrations, yet they rarely halt the march entirely. The empire adapts – through propaganda, fear-mongering, selective concessions, or simply ignoring dissent – while the core apparatus endures.Elite networks and the resilience of primacyThe persistence owes much to interlocking networks: the Council on Foreign Relations, major foundations, universities and corporate boards that shape “common sense” about America’s global role. These elites transcend party lines, mutating from liberal internationalist to New Right variants under Trump, yet serving similar ends – preserving US dominance amid rising multipolarity.China’s ascent, Global South resistance, and domestic disillusionment mount pressures, as seen in 2025-2026 analyses of Trump-era crises. Overreach risks accelerating decline, fracturing domestic bases and catalysing multipolar balance. Yet the imperial machine’s momentum, built over generations, remains formidable. Popular opposition highlights vulnerabilities – eroding trust, internal divisions, global pushback – but the system recalibrates, ensuring the war machine’s onward march.Toward a multipolar reckoningThe journey from Wilson to Trump illustrates not rupture but evolution within continuity. Idealistic crusades give way to nationalist bluntness, yet both advance the same project: American primacy enforced through military might, economic leverage, and elite consensus. Trump’s first-term record – escalated spending, sustained violence without new major wars, and humanitarian-tinged rationales for actions like the Soleimani strike – underscores how promises of restraint yield to the imperatives of empire. Public opposition, though potent in exposing hypocrisies and forcing tactical retreats, confronts a resilient apparatus that has weathered greater storms.As multipolarity intensifies and domestic fractures deepen, the American imperium faces unprecedented strain. Whether this heralds genuine transformation or further adaptation remains uncertain. What is clear is the pattern: from the “war to end all wars” to promises of “ending forever wars,” the imperial machine endures, marching forward regardless of the voices arrayed against it.Inderjeet Parmar is professor of international politics and associate dean of research in the School of Policy and Global Affairs at City St George’s, University of London. He is a Fellow of the Academy of Social Sciences and writes the American Imperium column for The Wire. His Twitter handle is @USEmpire. He is the author of several books, including Foundations of the American Century, and is currently writing on the history of the US foreign policy establishment, and Trump and the Crisis of American Empire.