I have heard numerous arguments in defense of Donald Trump’s protectionist nationalism. More than I would have expected, I must admit—many of them even surprising from a rational standpoint and in terms of the legitimacy of American interests. If not in the long run, at least in the short-term priority of reviving the domestic economy. Multilateralism and globalization are at stake, but it is also true that those who advocate understanding and respect for others should, instead of demonizing Trump, focus on understanding this new reality and managing it with intelligence, strength, and realism. I completely disagree with this White House, as a matter of strategic conviction. But it is here; and what happens there cannot be fought with insults or complaints. Crises, economists say, bring new opportunities—and that is where the rest of the world must focus.
The financial injection of the Marshall Plan into post-war Europe was not an act of American generosity. On the contrary, it was an investment in imperial messianism. And that costs a lot of money—in the United Nations and its global agencies, in NATO, in research, in financial aid to underdeveloped countries… Only the United States could—and wanted to—take on that role. Europe, the largest market in the world, recovered from the chaos of World War II but allowed itself to be infantilized by American paternalism: whoever pays, rules—and those who wanted to rule were willing to pay. Now, they no longer are; they want to stop paying while perhaps continuing to rule. And this is what must be denied to them.
China, which wants globalization—and rightly so—certainly sees the opportunity that Trump has created. But this also comes with costs; the question is whether Beijing is in a position to bear them while setting aside its internal priorities. Internationalism is a double-edged sword, and China knows this history well. Zheng He’s fleet was in Madagascar when Vasco da Gama crossed the Cape of Good Hope. But it retreated when eunuchs convinced the mandarins that expansion was financially unsustainable and that internal medieval conflicts were the priority at the time. This push-and-pull dynamic is permanent in China—as was evident in its recent Covid-zero policy. Now, Beijing wants to expand its influence again, filling the space abandoned by Trump. The question is how far it is willing and able to go.
Trump follows the eunuchs of Silicon Valley. He wants to stop paying for dominance through traditional international institutions and instead invest in technological structures that foster a new digital world, led by ultra-libertarians promoting bitcoin and tax evasion. The empire he envisions is oligarchic, abandoning the classic concept of the nation-state. It is inevitable that communist centralism will become its ideological enemy. But it is also true that labels are being reversed. If being conservative means preserving the status quo, then Trump is not that.
I do not see progress in capitalist oligarchy, but a seismic shift is coming—one that will shake the foundations of classical globalization. It is crucial to reinvent progressive concepts, because the old ones are not prepared for this new world.
Europe must stop complaining. Trump is what he is; he will follow the strategy that brought him to power. Democracy is the dictatorship of the majority—the worst system in the world, except for all the others, as Churchill once said. Now, it is time to retaliate, to negotiate with strength and courage, to invest in its own growth and maturity, to break free from the lethargy of American protection, and to reassess alliances.
Trump is bringing Europe closer to the East—and that is a good thing, because it cures the addiction to Manichaeism. In other words, if Trump is so radically different, then other differences stop being demonized—they become normalized. Trump is not a catastrophe—he is an alarm: a wake-up call.
