Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Ever notice how American foreign policy since George H. W. Bush feels less like strategy and more like a rebooted sitcom that refuses to get canceled?

Season One: Desert Storm. Roll credits, wave flags, declare victory, assure everyone this will restore confidence and unity forever. Spoiler alert: it did not. The ratings bump was temporary, like a Fourth of July sparkler—bright, loud, and gone before the hot dogs cooled.

Enter Bill Clinton, stage left, saxophone in hand, tasked with cleaning up the geopolitical confetti. He balances budgets, stabilizes things, and generally plays national custodian. The Cold War is over, the economy hums, and for a brief, shining moment we consider the radical idea that maybe—just maybe—constant war isn’t mandatory.

Then comes the sequel nobody asked for. George W. Bush steps in, and suddenly we’re not just at war—we’re at war’s extended director’s cut. Afghanistan. Iraq. Mission Accomplished banners that aged like unrefrigerated milk. The “longest war in history” becomes less of a statistic and more of a lifestyle choice. Entire generations grow up assuming desert camouflage is formal wear.

Cue Barack Obama, whose job description once again reads: “Clean up aisle forever.” He winds things down, recalibrates alliances, and tries diplomacy like it’s some bold new experiment. The wars fade from front-page headlines, though never quite from existence. Peace, it turns out, is harder to market than shock and awe.

Then in walks Donald Trump, promising to end “endless wars.” To be fair, he did seem allergic to starting brand-new ones—though the drumbeat never quite stopped. The rhetoric was a cocktail of isolationism and brinkmanship, like someone trying to defuse a bomb with a flamethrower while insisting it’s all part of a genius plan.

Next up: Joe Biden, inheriting the forever conflicts and pulling the plug on at least one of them, only to watch the global chessboard flip over in other directions. Cleanup duty, again. Mop. Bucket. Repeat.

And now? The carousel spins back. Donald Trump returns, and somehow we’re once more flirting with—or fully stepping into—another conflict. Because apparently, in America, war is the one bipartisan infrastructure project that never stalls.

It’s been over three decades of this rhythm: Shock. Cleanup. Shock. Cleanup. A geopolitical washing machine stuck on the “heavy duty” cycle. Each new administration campaigns on strength or stability, and somehow we keep rediscovering that bombs are easier to launch than long-term policy.

At this point, the half-century of déjà vu is less dramatic than exhausting. We’ve turned global conflict into a relay race where each president hands off either a smoldering crater or a diplomatic broom. The American public, meanwhile, keeps being told this time is different. This time it’s necessary. This time it will finally make us safer, stronger, more respected.

And yet the credits keep rolling on the same script.

Maybe one day we’ll try something radical—like breaking the loop. But until then, welcome to Season 12 of As the World Burns. Don’t worry. Cleanup starts after the next election.