As we step tentatively into 2026, a hopeful thought endures: the tyrants we endure inevitably falter, and their supposedly seismic upheavals frequently prove to be false dawns. This perspective, viewed through the long lens of history, offers a reassuring antidote to contemporary anxieties.
The Illusion of Decisive Endings
For those who witnessed it, the fall of the Berlin Wall on 9 November 1989 felt like an unequivocal, world-changing moment. The physical and ideological barriers of the Cold War were swept aside in a surge of popular freedom. Shortly after, on 3 December 1989, US President George H.W. Bush and Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev met in Malta and declared the Cold War over. It was hailed universally as a historic turning point.
Yet, fast forward to today, and a pressing question remains: did that global confrontation ever truly end? Under Vladimir Putin, Russia has resumed its role as an expansionist power threatening Europe's borderlands, from Ukraine to the Baltic states. With hindsight, that celebrated 1989 milestone appears far less decisive, its meaning almost inverted.
This pattern is a historical constant. Each generation believes its crises are unique, its shifts unparalleled. Events like the Arab Spring of 2010-11 were breathlessly labelled a democratic renaissance, only for those hopes to be dashed. The aftermath of 9/11 and the subsequent 'global war on terror' were deemed unprecedented, yet their most lasting impact may be the damage inflicted on international law and human rights.
Trump's Fleeting Moment in a Long Arc
In this climate of sensationalised upheaval, the realisation that many such events are false dawns—born of national delusion and strategic miscalculation—is both salutary and reassuring. Putin's 2022 invasion of Ukraine has been a disaster for Russia. Brexit has been a chastening lesson, now being slowly, painfully reversed.
True geopolitical continuity is more prevalent than we acknowledge. Despite the noise from hard-right populists, culture warriors, and unregulated digital disinformation, the fundamental underpinnings of global order prove remarkably resilient. Genuine, world-altering turning points are exceedingly rare.
This brings us to Donald Trump. He casts himself as a world-historical figure, a composite of history's great leaders. Yet after a decade dominating US politics, his tangible achievements are scant. His peace initiatives flounder, his tariff policies falter, and his personal approval flounders. His truly exceptional traits are his towering ego, profound ignorance, and bottomless narcissism.
Currently, the disruptions triggered by Trump and his MAGA movement seem transformational, symbolised by an authoritarian, alliance-rupturing national security strategy. The cries that 'the old order perishes' are deafening. However, viewed in the round, the Trumpian moment is fleeting. At 79, he has three years left at most. His MAGA coalition is fracturing, and no heir can match his monstrous appeal.
The Comfort of Continuity
It is claimed Trump has permanently altered the American worldview, but the same was said of 1930s 'America First' isolationism, which also faded. Time will likely judge the Trump era not as a turning point, but as a freakish aberration—a Prohibition for populists. In history's grand portrait, he is less a masterpiece and more of a blotch, an unsightly smear on the canvas.
At this unsettling juncture, maintaining perspective is crucial. As we enter 2026, we should count continuities and bridges, not just earthquakes and chasms.
Democracy, for all its flaws, remains the globe's preferred governance system when people are given a free choice. Divisive hard-right parties largely remain on the fringe. Authoritarian leaders like Putin, China's Xi Jinping, and Israel's Benjamin Netanyahu have no clear successors, and their departures may usher in reform, as seen after Stalin and Mao.
Most nations still support the UN and international law. The arts, culture, and sport continue to connect humanity. The pursuit of knowledge through education and science advances inexorably with each generation.
A wish for 2026, then, is for no great geopolitical watersheds—with potential exceptions for Putin's defeat or Trump's resignation. Most people simply wish to live peacefully, free from lying politicians, divisive dogmas, and renewed conflict. Que no haya novedad—let no new thing arise. For a world haunted by fears of a new cold—or hot—war, that would be the greatest gift.
