Breaking things

Trump’s reckless isolationism plays into the Chinese and Russian vision of a world order based on spheres of influence

Donald Trump has often been dismissed as a hip-shooter devoid of strategic sense or policy vision. While this assessment is not entirely off base — he is certainly an agent of anarchy — it is incomplete. For better or for worse, Trump was one of America’s most revolutionary presidents during his first term, and that appears likely to be true of his second.

Shlomo Ben-Ami

Former Israeli foreign minister and vice president of the Toledo International Centre for Peace

In the Middle East, Trump initiated the normalisation of Arab-Israeli relations. The so-called Abraham Accords between Israel and the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain, Morocco, and Sudan in 2020-21 laid the groundwork for an unprecedented regional security architecture. He says he will continue this process during his second term, bringing about the normalisation of diplomatic relations between Israel and Saudi Arabia.

In East Asia, Trump decisively broke from America’s longstanding policy of engagement with China. That policy was always based on the flawed assumption that the country’s integration into the global economy would ensure that it remained a benign international actor and, eventually, lead to democratisation. Notably, outgoing President Joe Biden did not attempt to revive it. Instead, he continued on the path laid by Trump and even increased US pressure on China.

Of course, not all “revolutions” have merit — and some are altogether disastrous. Consider Trump’s 2018 withdrawal from the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action that was constraining Iran’s nuclear program. It is because of that feckless decision that Iran is now closer than ever to becoming a nuclear power. Yet, Trump, the de-constructor, is also war-averse, and he will probably work for a new nuclear deal with the Islamic Republic.

As Trump begins his second term, his propensity for ruthless deal-making and wanton foreign policy disruption remains as strong as ever. For example, he seems to think that Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022 vindicated his threats not to defend NATO’s European members unless they start paying more for their defence. Now, he seems bent on keeping up the pressure on America’s European partners and negotiating a quick deal to end the Ukraine war — an outcome that will almost certainly benefit Russia above all.

Trump believes that abandoning international agreements and alliances is the most effective way to build a global system that better serves America’s interests.

In Gaza, Trump was fully prepared to unleash an even greater hell than the enclave has been enduring unless Hamas released the last of the Israeli hostages. Fortunately, the just-approved ceasefire between Hamas and Israel — which Trump helped to seal — means that the besieged people of Gaza might not have to find out that there are Trumpian circles of hell worse than what they are experiencing.

Add to that Trump’s recent suggestions that he would rename the Gulf of Mexico the Gulf of America, reclaim the Panama Canal, somehow takeover Greenland, perhaps even by military force, an annex Canada, and a clear message emerges. Trump believes that violating long-standing norms, abandoning or renegotiating international agreements, and reconsidering alliances is the most effective way to build a global system that better serves America’s interests, not least its interest in reducing its external obligations.

Trump subscribes to a brand of isolationism that has waxed and waned throughout US history, but has its roots in the Monroe Doctrine. In 1823, America’s fifth president, James Monroe, declared that the United States would not intervene in the affairs of European countries or their colonies and dependencies, and warned those countries not to interfere in the Western Hemisphere, such as through colonisation.

Any breach of this line by a European power would be viewed as a “hostile” act against the US. Trump confirmed his adherence to the Monroe Doctrine in a 2018 speech at the United Nations. This position is undoubtedly linked to the US-China competition: Trump wants to deter America’s global rival from interfering in the US “near-abroad.”

But this is precisely what China is doing. China’s ambitious strategy in Latin America and the Caribbean, as defined in a 2016 policy paper, spells out its drive to expand security cooperation throughout the region, thus representing an encroachment on America’s immediate neighbourhood. China has also financed significant infrastructure projects, some of which are of critical strategic importance. Alarm bells also were raised in Washington about Chinese spy bases in Cuba.

Trump’s message implicitly accepts a world order based on spheres of influence, as envisioned by China and Russia. His warning last year that he would let Russia do “whatever the hell” it wanted to any NATO member that failed to meet its defence-spending commitments is further evidence of his stance. So is his threat to seize control of Greenland. Not only is the resource-rich island closer to North America than it is to Europe; it is also located in the Arctic, a new frontier of strategic competition with Russia and China.

Though Denmark has controlled Greenland for centuries, the arrangement has evolved over time. The island became a Danish colony in 1721, though it was America’s 1916 declaration that Denmark could extend its control to all of Greenland that opened the way for international recognition of Danish sovereignty. Greenland became a district of Denmark in 1953 before adopting home rule in 1979 and gaining near-complete autonomy in 2009 (Denmark still controls domains like defence).

The US has long sought influence in Greenland, having established military bases there during World War II. With Trump threatening to take this effort to a new level, Greenland’s prime minister, Múte Egede, has begun calling for total independence — or, as he put it, removing the “shackles” of colonialism. But in an age of power politics — as seen in Ukraine, the Middle East, and East Asia, and reflected in Trump’s relentlessly belligerent rhetoric — can a territory like Greenland get to decide its fate?

So far, US allies have only symbolically challenged Trump’s dangerous pronouncements. For example, in December, Danish King Frederik X updated the royal coat of arms, removing the three crowns symbolising the Kalmar Union, which comprised Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, and lasted from 1397 to 1523, and making the polar bear, to represent Greenland, and the ram, for the Faroe Islands, more prominent. Such actions will do nothing to protect Greenland should Trump press the issue. One wonders if it has become passé to expect the leader of the free world to conduct policies toward allies without recourse to intimidation and war.

This article was first published by Project Syndicate. Views expressed in opinion pieces do not necessarily reflect the position of Novaya Gazeta Europe.