As Donald Trump entered his second term in the White House, American foreign policy became indistinguishable from Trump’s own persona.
As Donald Trump entered his second term in the White House, American foreign policy veered even further from the traditional halls of diplomacy into a realm defined almost entirely by personal loyalty, public spectacle, and transactional calculation. The foundations of U.S. international relations — built over decades through institutions, multilateral agreements, and long-term alliances — gave way to a style of engagement where diplomacy became indistinguishable from Trump’s own persona.
During his first term, Trump had already redefined America’s posture on the world stage. He withdrew from international agreements, sparred with allies, praised autocrats, and turned summits into performance stages. But the second term, unencumbered by the pressures of re-election and staffed increasingly by loyalists rather than institutionalists, allowed him to go further. Foreign policy became an extension of his own instincts, grievances, and branding.
One question looms large: after Trump, can diplomacy return to institutions and principles — or has the age of the showman permanently replaced the age of the statesman?
Trump favored leaders who mirrored his worldview — strongmen who emphasized control, nationalism, and personal loyalty. Vladimir Putin, Mohammed bin Salman, Jair Bolsonaro, and Viktor Orbán were not just partners but kindred spirits in a new global order that prioritised strength over consensus. These relationships were often pursued directly, sometimes bypassing the State Department entirely, as Trump relied on backchannels and personal envoys over professional diplomats.
Meanwhile, traditional allies were treated with open suspicion. European leaders, particularly those who criticised Trump’s positions or policies, were often publicly dismissed or mocked. NATO, once considered a cornerstone of Western security, was continually threatened with U.S. withdrawal unless members increased military spending to Trump’s standards. Multilateral organizations like the UN, the WHO, and even the WTO were viewed as obstacles rather than forums for cooperation. Trump see alliances not as shared values but as deals to be negotiated — or exited — if they didn’t serve immediate American interests.
Trump see alliances not as shared values but as deals to be negotiated — or exited — if they didn’t serve immediate American interests.
Underpinning this approach was a deep rejection of moral leadership in foreign policy. Human rights, democratic reform, and press freedom — traditional pillars of American soft power — were deprioritised or ignored entirely. Foreign aid became conditional on public praise of the president. Military assistance was transactional. International crises were opportunities to reinforce Trump’s image as a dealmaker, even when the deals were superficial or short-lived.
The result was a foreign policy increasingly defined by spectacle over strategy. Trump’s meetings with Kim Jong-un, for instance, were less about denuclearization and more about optics. His Middle East approach was dominated by photo ops and unilateral moves like the Abraham Accords, which bypassed the Palestinian issue entirely. Engagements with adversaries were inconsistent and driven by mood, flattery, or domestic political calculation, not by coherent geopolitical thinking.
What changed most in the second term was not the content of Trump’s worldview but the extent to which he implemented it. With institutional guardrails weakened and many career diplomats marginalized or gone, the conduct of American diplomacy became more centralized, impulsive, and unpredictable. Foreign leaders learned that what mattered most was not alignment with U.S. policy, but alignment with Trump himself.
What changed most in the second term was not the content of Trump’s worldview but the extent to which he implemented it.
Some saw this as a necessary recalibration. Trump’s supporters argued that he stripped away the pretenses of elite diplomacy and brought a realist “America First” focus back to the center. To them, alliances had long exploited the U.S., and Trump’s disruptive style was long overdue. Others, however, saw a dangerous unraveling; the erosion of trust, the breakdown of global norms, and the weakening of America’s leadership role at a time when powers like China and Russia were eager to fill the vacuum.
As the term progressed, international crises became more frequent, and the consequences of a persona-driven diplomacy became harder to ignore. Decisions were reactive. Strategy often took a back seat to narrative. And the line between foreign policy and domestic political performance blurred beyond recognition.
Now, with the world increasingly divided between those who embraced Trump’s style and those who recoiled from it, the future of American diplomacy remains uncertain. One question looms large: after Trump, can diplomacy return to institutions and principles — or has the age of the showman permanently replaced the age of the statesman?
