The United States’ withdrawal from multilateral institutions marks more than a tactical foreign policy shift; it signals a fundamental rethinking of how global power, aid and influence will be exercised in the coming years. By stepping away from multilateralism and favouring bilateral treaties, Washington is rewriting the rules of international engagement – with consequences that will be felt sharply across the Global South, including India, Bangladesh, Afghanistan and small island states. At the heart of this transition lies a simple but unsettling reality: multilateralism spreads responsibility and accountability, while bilateralism concentrates power.
For aid donors, bilateral treaties offer greater control, visibility, and leverage. For aid recipients, however, they often mean conditionality, political pressure, and reduced autonomy. In this emerging order, humanitarian principles risk being subordinated to strategic calculations. Multilateral institutions such as UN agencies were designed precisely to avoid such imbalances. Bodies like the UN Population Fund (UNFPA), the World Health ecosystem, and climate-focused alliances ensured that assistance reached vulnerable populations based on need rather than geopolitical loyalty. With the U.S. stepping b a c k , the semechanismsare weakened, and the burden of sustaining them shifts to a smaller group of committed states. Nowhere is this impact more evident than in population and health programmes. UNFPA support has been crucial for countries like Afghanistan and Bangladesh, where maternal health, reproductive rights, refugee welfare, and demographic stability are pressing concerns.
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In conflict-hit Afghanistan, UNFPA assistance has often filled the vacuum left by collapsing state structures, supporting women’s health and basic services. The U.S. withdrawal threatens not only funding flows but also the moral legitimacy of these programmes. When a major donor disengages, it emboldens other sceptical actors to question the value of multilateral humanitarian commitments. The result is a shrinking humanitarian space at a time when demographic pressures and displacement are intensifying. The shift from multilateral climate action to bilateral energy deals is equally troubling. Hydrogen fuel technologies and electric vehicles, often projected as the future of clean mobility, remain prohibitively expensive for most developing countries.
Infrastructure costs, rare-earth dependencies and high consumer prices make rapid adoption unrealistic for large parts of Asia and Africa. In this context, fears are growing that the U.S., while stepping away from global climate commitments, may aggressively push conventional fuel-based vehicles into developing markets. Such dumping of petrol and diesel vehicles, cheaper and immediately deployable, could undermine global emission reduction efforts and lock developing economies into carbon-intensive pathways for decades. For countries like India, which are attempting a delicate balance between development needs and climate responsibility, this creates a policy trap. On one hand, affordable transport is a social necessity. On the other, dependence on outdated technologies delays the transition to cleaner energy and increases long-term environmental costs.
Without strong multilateral pressure and incentives, climate commitments risk becoming optional rather than obligatory. This is where the U.S. withdrawal from the India-France-led International Solar Alliance (ISA) becomes particularly significant. The ISA was not merely a climate platform; it was a symbol of South-South cooperation and a rare example of India exercising global leadership in shaping climate governance. Designed to mobilise solar energy deployment across tropical countries, the alliance aimed to make clean energy affordable, accessible and scalable. Washington’s disengagement from the ISA is a setback not just for India and France, but for the broader Global South. It signals a lack of confidence in multilateral renewable frameworks and sends a message that clean energy leadership can be sacrificed for short-term national priorities.
For developing countries banking on solar power as a pathway to energy security and climate resilience, this weakens momentum and financing prospects. The broader diplomatic implications are equally profound. Multilateral forums provided smaller and middle powers with platforms to negotiate, collaborate and assert collective interests. Bilateralism, by contrast, favours asymmetry. Powerful states set the terms; weaker states adapt. In South Asia, this dynamic could reshape regional diplomacy. Countries such as Nepal, Sri Lanka and the Maldives, which rely heavily on multilateral climate finance and development assistance, may find themselves navigating a more transactional world. Aid may increasingly come with strategic strings attached, blurring the line between assistance and influence. The Maldives, facing existential threats from sea-level rise, cannot afford a slowdown in global climate cooperation.
Yet, bilateral aid alone cannot substitute for coordinated global action on emissions and adaptation. India occupies a complex position in this changing landscape. As a major recipient of multilateral cooperation and an emerging donor and agenda-setter, India has a stake in preserving global institutions. At the same time, it must adapt to a world where the U.S. prefers deal-making over consensus-building. This demands diplomatic agility: strengthening ties with Europe, deepening South–South cooperation, and assuming greater responsibility in sustaining multilateral initiatives. The retreat from multilateralism also affects the global knowledge economy.
International experts, development professionals and policy specialists who worked through UN systems face shrinking opportunities. Research collaborations, global data-sharing initiatives and coordinated responses to pandemics and climate disasters become harder to sustain without a central convening power. Historically, American power was not derived solely from military strength or economic dominance, but from its role as an architect and guarantor of global institutions. By stepping away, Washington risks eroding the very influence it seeks to protect. Influence exercised through cooperation lasts longer than influence imposed through transactions. The revival of bilateralism echoes an older worldview — one that prioritises national advantage over collective security. In an interconnected world, however, climate change, population pressures, migration and public health crises do not respect borders or bilateral agreements.
They demand coordinated responses that only multilateral frameworks can deliver. For the Global South, the challenge is stark. The erosion of multilateralism means fewer safeguards, less predictability and greater vulnerability to power politics. Yet it also presents an opportunity for emerging powers like India to step forward, not as replacements for the U.S., but as stabilisers of a cooperative international order. As the world stands at the crossroads of climate urgency, demographic transition and geopolitical uncertainty, the question is no longer whether multilateralism is imperfect – it is whether the world can afford its decline. In choosing bilateral bargains over collective responsibility, the U.S. may gain short-term leverage, but the long-term costs – for aid, climate action and global stability – will be shared by all.
(The writer is Professor, Centre for South Asian Studies, Pondicherry Central University.)