There is an old line, often attributed to Henry Kissinger: “It may be dangerous to be America’s enemy, but to be America’s friend is fatal.”
It endures because history keeps updating the footnotes.
America does not usually destroy its friends with bombs. That would be crude.
It destroys them with process, patience, and policy reviews.
Enemies are confronted.
Friends are managed.
Exhibit A: Vietnam — Friendship as Slow Drain
South Vietnam was America’s friend. It received weapons, advisors, speeches, and promises that the U.S. would never abandon it.
For years, America escalated just enough to avoid defeat—but never enough to win. Every increase in force was paired with a new constraint. Every setback was followed by another conference.
When the costs grew uncomfortable, America discovered a new concept: Vietnamization—a polite way of saying “This is now your problem.”
The exit was dignified.
The collapse was not.
Saigon fell, and America moved on, explaining that there had never been a military solution anyway.
Exhibit B: Afghanistan — Twenty Years of Support, One Weekend of Reality
Afghanistan may be the most perfect example of fatal friendship.
For two decades, the Afghan government was sustained by American money, American logistics, American airpower, and American confidence. It looked strong—because it was plugged into the U.S.
But dependence was mistaken for capacity.
When America decided it was tired, the support system was unplugged. The Afghan state collapsed in days—not because Afghans lacked courage, but because the structure was never designed to survive American absence.
America called it “ending the forever war.”
Afghans called it abandonment.
Friends were evacuated.
Partners were left on the runway.
Exhibit C: Iraq — Liberation without Responsibility
Iraq was invaded as an enemy and turned into a friend overnight.
America dismantled the state, rewrote the rules, promised democracy—and then treated the resulting chaos as an inconvenience. When Iraq needed long-term stability, America offered elections and press releases.
When the consequences became expensive, America redefined success and reduced involvement.
Iraq survived, but broken, fragmented, and permanently unstable—another friend left holding the bill.
Exhibit D: Kurds — Loyal, Brave, Disposable
No group illustrates America’s friendship problem better than the Kurds.
The Kurds fought alongside U.S. forces:
- Against Saddam
- Against ISIS
- Against regional threats
They were praised as heroes. Called indispensable. Presented as proof of American values.
And then, repeatedly, they were abandoned—when Turkey objected, when priorities shifted, when alliances required adjustment.
America did not betray the Kurds once.
It perfected the pattern.
Exhibit E: Ukraine — Support Without Victory
Ukraine is the most sophisticated version of this model yet.
America has provided weapons, intelligence, money, and rhetoric—carefully calibrated to ensure Ukraine does not collapse, but also does not win too decisively.
Weapons arrive late.
Restrictions protect the adversary.
Victory is replaced with “avoiding escalation.”
When Ukraine asked for security guarantees, it received assurances.
When it asked for NATO, it received sympathy.
When it asked for clarity, it received process.
Ukraine is alive—but bled slowly.
This is what modern American friendship looks like: sustainability without sovereignty.
The Pattern Is the Policy
These are not accidents. They are features.
America avoids:
- Clear victory (too destabilizing)
- Clear defeat (too humiliating)
Instead, it chooses:
- Managed conflict
- Shared responsibility
- Eventual disengagement
Friends are expected to adjust to this logic.
Enemies fight America’s power.
Friends fight America’s calendar.
The Moral Language Trap
America speaks in moral absolutes but acts in strategic fractions.
It tells its friends:
- “We stand with you.”
- “We support your sovereignty.”
- “We share your values.”
Later, it explains:
- “Circumstances changed.”
- “There are limits.”
- “Compromise is necessary.”
Morality is never withdrawn.
It is simply redefined.
The Dark Joke at the Center
The cruel humour is that America genuinely believes it is helping. It is not lying—it is optimizing.
But optimization is not loyalty.
And risk management is not solidarity.
To be America’s enemy is to face its force.
To be America’s friend is to depend on its patience.
And patience, in American foreign policy, expires quickly.
So nations keep lining up, convinced this time is different.
History suggests otherwise.
America’s enemies may lose wars.
America’s friends lose futures.
And the obituary is always written the same way:
“Despite significant support, the outcome was tragic.”
That sentence has buried more allies than any missile ever did.
Disclaimer: This article is an opinion piece. It uses historical examples, satire, and interpretation to critique foreign policy decisions and should not be read as a statement of undisputed fact or official positions.
