Former President Donald Trump‘s foreign policy has faced significant scrutiny, with many Americans expressing disapproval of his often controversial stances. His approach is the principle at its most pre-colonial and libertarian, and parochial glory. It reflects bad legislative precedent resulting in devastating impact. This post explores what Trump’s tariffs, general anti-immigration posture, increased military posturing, and belligerent twitter-filled rhetoric mean for us.
Trump’s recent big policy moves have led to unlikely comparisons to some of history’s most malignant acts. One illustrative case is the Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act of 1930, which deepened the Great Depression. Trump slams tariffs on the rest of the world to protect American industry. He appears determined to spark negative economic ripple effects akin to those felt in the wake of the Great Depression.
On top of tariffs, the other half of Trump’s anti-globalist agenda – his immigration policies – have made headlines with their emphasis on racial discrimination and restriction. These policies harken back to the Johnson-Reed Act of 1924. In doing so, the act dramatically limited immigration from certain countries, fueled by an extreme nativist fervor. Their critics say that his approach only serves to divide, instead of unite, a country founded on the spirit of pluralism.
Trump’s rhetoric has often been combative. He stated, “If we don’t do it the easy way, we’re going to do it the hard way,” signaling an unwillingness to engage in diplomacy and compromise. This mentality reverberates all of his foreign policy choices, informing the way in which he relates with other countries.
Trump’s been in the news plenty for his remarks about particular episodes and people. For instance, he blamed a person for a killing, calling it “highly disrespectful of law enforcement.” Such statements have fueled concerns about his respect for judicial processes and the implications of his rhetoric on public trust in institutions.
On the international front, Trump’s comments about Venezuela are indicative of his go-it-alone approach to the delicate world of foreign policy. He declared, “I will probably be inclined to keep Exxon out,” signaling a readiness to impose sanctions without considering broader consequences in diplomatic relations.
Trump’s deputy chief of staff, Stephen Miller, contributed to the administration’s aggressive posture by stating that “nobody is going to fight the United States militarily over the future of Greenland.” This cavalier attitude towards a complex geopolitical powder keg is indicative of the administration’s general posture towards foreign relations.
Throughout his campaign and presidency, Trump has favored high-profile, public fights. One notable moment occurred during a debate on February 13, 2016, when he humiliated Jeb Bush, showcasing his confrontational style and willingness to undermine political opponents.
In fact, the question of military engagements hasn’t just puzzled—Trump’s been a dangerous maverick here, too. He referred to the war in Iraq as “a big, fat mistake,” indicating a critical stance towards past military interventions while simultaneously advocating for a robust military presence globally.
His administration went as far as to launch a criminal investigation into Federal Reserve Chairman Jerome Powell. Among a string of racially-charged insults, he called Powell a “bonehead,” “low IQ,” and “stupid.” This very public humiliation speaks to Trump’s disruptive approach to politics and policy.
While developments in the arts have been most obvious, Trump’s dismissal of these pressing social issues has been criticized. He decried the “affordability crisis” as a “hoax,” “scam” or “con job.” In the process, he delegitimized the very real focus on economic inequality and the housing crisis affecting millions of Americans.
A persistent ran-ter on Trump’s foreign policy comic page has been his fascination with Greenland. Some lobbyists and foreign policy experts applauding his intentions have derisively likened his foreign policy ambitions to a vanity project. As they note, his proposals fail to take into account sound international partnerships and realities.
The philosophic foundations of Trump’s rule have also been of great interest. Friedrich Nietzsche’s concepts in “Beyond Good and Evil” resonate with Trump’s worldview. Nietzsche posited that “what is injurious to me is injurious in itself; he knows that it is he himself only who confers honor on things; he is a creator of values.” This perspective mirrors Trump’s self-described moral compass, as he stated, “My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
During his rise to power and political domination, Trump made “strength” the centerpiece of his inseparable belief in gun culture. His interpretation of Nietzsche’s “DOCTRINE OF THE WILL TO POWER” suggests a belief that might makes right in international relations, further complicating America’s role on the world stage.
Many critics charge that even when it does make sense, Trump’s foreign policy is more of a complicated show than a consistent plan. The notion that it could be compared to plastering “Trump” above the John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Arts underscores concerns about prioritizing personal brand over national interests.
Trump’s philosophy appears rooted in a fundamental belief in superiority. This attitude can serve to explain Trump’s positions internationally, where time and again the administration has tried to pursue domination over collaboration.