A memorable phrase during Donald Trump’s initial term was the counsel to regard him “seriously, but not literally.” This phrase was notably damaging, widely echoed by politicians and the media alike. It encapsulated the comfort many found in detaching Trump from his actions: while he was perceived as harmful, he was also dismissed as lacking intelligence, intent, or deliberate thought. He often spoke impulsively but rarely took substantial action, depicted as a malfunctioning weapon that could inflict serious damage mostly by chance.
The remnants of this mindset still linger, evident even in discussions that characterize Trump’s initial executive orders as a campaign of “shock and awe,” suggesting they were merely symbolic rather than decisive actions. His plans for Gaza are similarly advised to be taken—surprise, surprise—seriously, not literally. When Democratic senator Andy Kim expressed disbelief at this interpretation, he became visibly frustrated. “I understand people are bending over backwards to try to mitigate some of the fallout from these statements that are made,” he shared with Politico. Yet, he emphasized, Trump is “the commander-in-chief of the most powerful military in the world … if I can’t take the president’s words at face value, needing some oracle to decipher them, I struggle to comprehend our national security.”
One significant issue is the reluctance to attribute any coherence to Trump’s rhetoric. Nevertheless, a Trump doctrine is taking shape, particularly in foreign policy, with distinct features and a semblance of unified conflict theory. Firstly, it is transactional, especially regarding US involvement in warfare. There is no historical context or objective morality; time begins with Trump, who aims to conclude matters while securing some advantage for the US.
This advantage is the second hallmark of the Trump doctrine: financialization, or the reduction of political considerations to cost analysis, returns, and maximization potentials. Trump evaluates conflicts and financial aid as lacking tangible benefits for the US. From the Gaza conflict, he perceives the potential for a real estate deal. In Ukraine, he views a proposal for nearly four times the value of US aid in minerals as akin to a distressed company’s liquidation by a new investment manager seeking to recover lost investments.
The third characteristic involves discarding any concept of “soft power,” perceived as costly with questionable and abstract benefits. Soft power might even be seen as a myth that coddled easily deceived regimes, providing a false sense of agency while draining US resources. In situations like Gaza or Ukraine, the US seemed to be acting without achieving any definitive breakthroughs. Where others recognize soft power, Trump perceives only quagmires.
These features of approach may evolve, and they could prove myopic and harmful to US security. Additionally, their origins may not lie solely with Trump but rather at the crossroads of various political interests and influences that support and counsel him. When filtered through Trump, this doctrine reflects his personality traits—rambling, narcissistic, and ignorant. However, this should not be mistaken for a lack of fundamental consistency or a determination to act decisively.
Consequently, other leaders, especially in Europe, find themselves in a predicament where traditional understandings of US partnerships have been dismantled. European nations now function as junior partners, forced to either abandon their past commitments to counter Vladimir Putin, align with Trump to resolve conflicts on his terms, or manage the aftermath when the US retracts its support.
The resultant indignation and rhetoric surrounding “appeasement” and “capitulation” seem to misinterpret the current situation, reflecting nostalgia for a time when confronting aggressive adversaries was universally accepted while any deviation was deemed a moral defeat or a display of weakness. Yet, Trump operates within a different value system, where these concepts either do not exist or carry alternative definitions.
As European leaders fume, Trump’s strategy for Ukraine is being orchestrated not just in Washington but also in the Middle East, among new centres of transactional power. These nations, accustomed to navigating their association with the US through self-interest rather than shared values, are currently redefining their partnerships and are acutely aware of the evolving global landscape. Sergei Lavrov recently met with Marco Rubio in Riyadh, and Volodymyr Zelenskyy journeyed to the region in preparation for Gulf-mediated peace discussions in Abu Dhabi. Those who have maintained firm, interest-driven relations with the US seem best equipped not to freeze in moral outrage.
For the rest, particularly countries that once enjoyed close relations built on shared values and security responsibilities, this regime change is a tough reality to accept. It appears there will be no room for persuasion or negotiation, nor a “transatlantic bridge” as characterized by Keir Starmer—a figure who might mediate between the US and Europe to prevent a divide. Perhaps Starmer could appeal to Trump’s ego or navigate a diplomatic approach, convincing him that yielding to Putin could be perceived as weakness. However, these assumptions rely on a degree of impulsiveness in Trump that can be moderated (by a prime minister not noted for charisma) and the belief that Trump shares similar notions of “historical judgment” and “weakness.” There seems to be little shared ground remaining.
Former close friends and security partners of the US now face two choices: abandon everything, dismissing the importance of European solidarity, speed up the disintegration of the postwar order, and reconcile with defense vulnerability and political subordination; or embark on an extensive power-mapping mission. This initiative requires swift, coordinated efforts across political, bureaucratic, and military domains to either fill the void left by the US or effectively demonstrate their collective strength, agency, and nimbleness—ultimately challenging Trump in the only terms he understands.
It may be comforting to assume that Trump’s actions stem from carelessness or can be managed and influenced, as if they spring from a place of recklessness. Or that there exists a means to reconcile fundamentally opposing views of global order. Who wishes to confront the daily reality of a world fundamentally altered? Yet it is so. The sooner political leaders acknowledge that paths back to former norms have been shut, the greater the chances that this new reality will not be solely shaped by Trump’s agenda.
