Under the inescapable reality that the international system will remain defined by two superpowers—China and the United States—for the foreseeable future, Washington’s strategic priority has increasingly shifted toward preventing the emergence of a third global pole of power. In the current geopolitical landscape, the only country with a plausible chance of reaching superpower status is India. For this reason, the recent downturn in U.S.-India relations should not be interpreted merely as friction between partners or a temporary trade spat. Rather, it reflects a deeper structural phenomenon: Washington’s reluctance to tolerate the rise of another peer competitor, and its consequent efforts to restrain India’s ascent. Seen from this perspective, the deterioration of U.S.-India ties is not an accidental derailment of a promising partnership but an intentional recalibration—an act of preemptive containment against a potential rival.
The logic of this argument becomes clearer when viewed against the backdrop of U.S. history. The United States has long displayed a pattern of simultaneously cultivating and constraining other powers, encouraging their development when it suits American strategic aims but seeking to limit them once they begin to challenge U.S. primacy. The most famous case is Washington’s handling of postwar Japan. Throughout the Cold War, the U.S. supported Tokyo’s economic recovery and technological development as part of its effort to create a prosperous, stable bulwark against communism in Asia. Yet by the 1980s, when Japan’s rapid economic rise threatened to eclipse U.S. manufacturing dominance, Washington shifted its approach. It forced Japan into a series of trade concessions, currency revaluations under the Plaza Accord, and market-opening measures that undermined its export competitiveness. The result was a prolonged period of stagnation in Japan, often referred to as the “lost decades,” which effectively ended its bid for global economic primacy. Similarly, the U.S. encouraged European integration during the early Cold War years but later opposed steps toward greater strategic autonomy once Brussels began exploring policies that could reduce Europe’s dependence on NATO and Washington’s leadership. In both cases, the American objective was clear: foster allies as long as they remain subordinate to the U.S.-led order, but curb their ambitions if they threaten to become independent poles of power.
Russia provides yet another cautionary tale. In the immediate aftermath of the Soviet collapse, Washington championed Russia’s market reforms and integration into the global economy. However, when Moscow began to recover its strength and pursue a more assertive foreign policy under Vladimir Putin—particularly after the mid-2000s—the U.S. response shifted toward containment. NATO expansion, sanctions following the Georgia war and later the annexation of Crimea, and restrictions on Russian access to technology and finance all functioned to limit Moscow’s resurgence. The pattern is remarkably consistent: when a potential peer competitor begins to move beyond the role of a regional power, the U.S. responds by using economic, diplomatic, and technological tools to slow or reverse that trajectory.
India now appears to be entering a similar phase of its relationship with Washington. The past two decades have witnessed a remarkable transformation in bilateral ties. The civil nuclear agreement of 2008, expanding defense cooperation, and Washington’s rhetorical support for India as a “natural partner” were milestones that seemed to herald a strategic convergence. India was welcomed as a key member of the Quad and portrayed as a central pillar of the “free and open Indo-Pacific” strategy, implicitly aimed at balancing China. Yet, as India’s economic and geopolitical clout has grown, cracks have begun to show. One clear manifestation is the intensification of trade disputes. The Trump administration unilaterally withdrew India’s preferential trade status under the Generalized System of Preferences (GSP) in 2019, affecting billions of dollars in exports. Washington has repeatedly imposed high tariffs on Indian steel and aluminum, and retaliated against Indian tariffs on American goods, creating a cycle of tit-for-tat measures. The Biden administration, despite its rhetorical commitment to closer ties, has maintained many of these tariffs and has added new frictions by pressing India to curtail purchases of discounted Russian oil, thereby challenging New Delhi’s strategic autonomy.
Technology has become another battleground. The U.S. has restricted India’s access to critical technologies under export control regimes, often citing dual-use concerns, while simultaneously courting India’s participation in semiconductor supply chain initiatives that would lock it into an American-centered ecosystem. The message is mixed but unmistakable: Washington wants India as a partner but not as a peer. Even in defense cooperation, where progress has been significant, the U.S. has been reluctant to fully transfer cutting-edge systems or co-develop sensitive technologies, preferring instead to keep India dependent on American platforms and spare parts. The underlying strategic calculus is that a militarily self-reliant India could one day chart a course independent of U.S. interests, potentially even tilting toward a multipolar order that Washington finds threatening.
What makes this moment particularly fraught is that India itself aspires to a status well beyond that of a “junior partner.” Its leaders openly speak of becoming a “Viksit Bharat” (Developed India) by 2047, coinciding with the centenary of independence, and of taking its place at the high table of global decision-making. India’s growing economy, demographic dividend, and expanding diplomatic footprint lend credibility to this ambition. From New Delhi’s perspective, aligning too closely with Washington risks constraining its freedom of action and undermining its claim to strategic autonomy. This tension has already surfaced in global forums. India’s refusal to condemn Russia outright at the United Nations following the Ukraine invasion, its push for reform of global institutions such as the UN Security Council, and its leadership role in the Global South—exemplified by hosting the G20 summit—signal its determination to craft an independent path. Washington’s discomfort with these moves is palpable, as they challenge the narrative of a tightly knit U.S.-India partnership united against China.
Critics might argue that the current friction is merely transactional and that both sides still share a strong convergence of interests, particularly in balancing China. This is true, but it overlooks the structural logic at play. The U.S. does not object to a strong India per se; it objects to an India that could eventually rival American influence in Asia or globally. For Washington, the ideal India is strong enough to help counterbalance Beijing but not so strong that it seeks to rewrite the rules of the international order. As India approaches that threshold, expect Washington to tighten its grip—through trade pressure, technology restrictions, and conditional defense cooperation—to ensure that New Delhi’s rise remains aligned with U.S. preferences.
This dynamic creates a paradox for India. The very partnership that accelerated its global rise may now become a source of constraint. If history is any guide, Washington’s strategy will be to use a combination of incentives and coercion to keep India within a U.S.-friendly orbit. The challenge for New Delhi is to extract tangible benefits from the relationship—market access, technology transfer, investment—without becoming overly dependent or compromising its long-term vision of strategic autonomy. Failure to strike this balance could result in India facing the same fate as Japan in the 1980s: celebrated as a partner when convenient, but subjected to systematic economic and technological constraints once its ascent becomes threatening.
The broader implications of this dynamic are profound. If the U.S. succeeds in restraining India’s rise, the world could remain locked in a U.S.-China duopoly for decades, foreclosing the possibility of a truly multipolar order. Conversely, if India manages to navigate this complex relationship and sustain high growth, technological advancement, and strategic independence, it could emerge as the long-sought third pole, reshaping global politics. The contest, then, is not merely about bilateral frictions over tariffs or oil purchases but about the future architecture of the international system.
The deterioration in U.S.-India relations should therefore be read as part of a larger historical pattern. Washington’s behavior toward rising powers has been remarkably consistent: support them when they reinforce U.S. hegemony, constrain them when they threaten it. India now stands at that critical juncture. Whether it will be another Japan—its ambitions blunted by external pressure—or whether it will chart an independent course toward great-power status is one of the defining questions of the coming decades. For now, one thing is clear: the U.S. is no passive observer of India’s rise but an active participant in shaping its trajectory, often in ways that serve American interests more than India’s own. The challenge for New Delhi is to recognize this reality and craft a strategy that preserves its upward momentum without falling into the trap of becoming yet another power managed, contained, and ultimately diminished by Washington’s global design.
Huang Dekai，Senior Fellow of Lotus Center for Dialogue , P.R.China
