It has become a refrain among analysts that we have entered a new world order, with the law of the jungle replacing the old international rules-based system. This new order is said to be shaped by empires using raw power to expand their spheres of influence and vassalize others, rather than being structured by “multilateral” international agreements between large and small nations.

The wars that Russia, the United States, and Israel have waged in recent years—and are currently waging against Ukraine, Iran, and Lebanon—are supposed to illustrate this point. Many countries in the world are indeed looking on in horror, not least those in Europe, waking up from the slumber of a long, well-managed peace that lasted eight decades. It’s fair to wonder if they can prevent this jungle from reaching and overwhelming them, too.

It has become a refrain among analysts that we have entered a new world order, with the law of the jungle replacing the old international rules-based system. This new order is said to be shaped by empires using raw power to expand their spheres of influence and vassalize others, rather than being structured by “multilateral” international agreements between large and small nations.

The wars that Russia, the United States, and Israel have waged in recent years—and are currently waging against Ukraine, Iran, and Lebanon—are supposed to illustrate this point. Many countries in the world are indeed looking on in horror, not least those in Europe, waking up from the slumber of a long, well-managed peace that lasted eight decades. It’s fair to wonder if they can prevent this jungle from reaching and overwhelming them, too.

But first, another question needs to be asked: Is the analysis accurate? What are autocrats like U.S. President Donald Trump, Russian President Vladimir Putin, or Chinese President Xi Jinping actually achieving with their displays of hard power? Are they really establishing a “new world order”?

In short: No. That modern autocrats do eagerly go to war is indisputable. But so is the fact that they rarely really win their wars. Since 1945, it has become more difficult to win at war. There have been a few clear victories, such as Operation Desert Storm (the liberation of Kuwait in 1991) or the recent mini-blitzkrieg of Azerbaijan conquering Nagorno-Karabakh. But generally speaking, today’s wars solve very few conflicts, often causing new ones.

The United States did not win in Vietnam, Iraq, or Afghanistan. The Soviet Union was defeated in Afghanistan, too. Putin thought he could crush Ukraine with military superiority but has hardly made any territorial gains since the start of his all-out war in 2022. After years of bombing Syria, he quit, tail between his legs. International forces led by the British and French deposed Libyan leader Muammar al-Qaddafi in 2011 but subsequently lost their grip on the country. Libya remains a failed state to this day. The French military has recently been swept out of one small African country after another. The Bosnian War, frozen in 1995, could start again at any moment. Israel has razed Gaza to the ground in recent years, but the world has more sympathy for the Palestinians than ever. Even France, Canada, and the United Kingdom now recognize the Palestinian state.

In a remarkable new book, Par-delà la puissance et la guerre; la mystérieuse énergie sociale, Bertrand Badie, a French political scientist, argues that while brutal displays of power may be ubiquitous today, modern wars primarily sow death and destruction but fail to establish a new order, let alone a new world order. In the past, traditional wars, however cruel, could do precisely that: The side with the largest army and the best strategy and tactics won, imposing a lasting “peace treaty” on the losing side. The last time this happened on a grand scale was in 1945.

Before this, wars had the potential to be both destructive and constructive, Badie noted. “They destroyed things, but at the same time they also built up something in a way. Today, wars are merely destructive.”

Looking at the past eight decades, one can find several explanations. Decolonization is one: It broke powerful states and empowered the underdogs. Another reason is globalization, because it further weakened states and their military might, making them mutually more dependent. The rise of nonstate actors such as nongovernmental organizations, the United Nations, mafia groups and terrorist organizations, and increasingly also popular social movements like the yellow vests in France also contributed to the hollowing out of state power all over the world. Most modern dictators, as Gideon Rachman pointed out in his book The Age of the Strongman in 2022, do not rule through the barrel of a gun or tanks in the street, but in a more subtle way, by manipulating and orchestrating public opinion—populism, in other words.

Weak states and strong interdependence between them mean every war can trigger international chain reactions with consequences no one can quite predict. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022 disrupted global food and energy supplies. In the war Israel and the U.S. unleashed against Iran in February, a weak Iran defends itself against two military superpowers rather successfully by closing the Strait of Hormuz. By doing that, it destabilizes the global economy. The social disorder this causes all over the world—not least in the United States, where discontent about rising fuel prices could impact the midterm elections in November—may prove more decisive on the battlefield than military might itself. This is a Hobbesian world rather than some kind of new order. It’s disorder to the extreme.

It is in this disorder that Europe slowly seems to be finding its strength. It is worth noting that in the last couple of months, European governments have taken a stronger stand in several foreign-policy domains than before. In January, they condemned Trump’s plans to snatch Greenland from Denmark. Some even dispatched soldiers to Greenland, a symbolic gesture that did raise the stakes, with Trump backing off, at least for the moment. Then, in February, European governments categorically refused to become involved in the war against Iran, calling it “illegal” under international law (the same international law they had ignored when Israel obliterated Gaza). Some countries even balked at servicing U.S. aircraft en route to the Middle East on military bases on their soil. The more Trump insulted them, the more he questioned the future of NATO, the more outspoken they became. Strong approval from European public opinion—part of the “mysterious social energy” featuring in the subtitle of Badie’s book—undoubtedly fortified their resolve. Finally, they issued quite a strong statement condemning Israel’s bombardments of Lebanon.

One can argue that European governments are growing so alarmed by these violations of international law that—rather late in the day—they are beginning to take a stronger stand than before. They are alarmed because they are realizing that if Europe does not defend international law, no one will do it. Europe must now urgently build a strong defense to protect both its territory and its values. It will have to form coalitions with like-minded nations such as Canada to uphold international law, and become more autonomous, sovereign, and strong in every area. If there is no longer a world order, there will at least be a European order.