Whatever happened to Trump the peacemaker?
The weaker Trump is at home, the more dangerous he becomes abroad.
For years, Donald Trump cultivated an image of himself as the insurgent outsider who would end America’s “stupid wars.” He railed against the foreign policy establishment, mocked the architects of Iraq, and promised his supporters that under an “America First” presidency the US would look after its own people first.
That message helped to propel his original populist coalition by tapping into a very real disillusionment with US imperialism – if only for the costs it imposed on the American people. After two decades of war, many Americans are sick of their presidents’ misadventures abroad.
Trump’s strike on Iran is just the latest nail in the coffin of Trump’s peacemaker persona. But his lurch towards imperial violence doesn’t come from a place of strength. Like so many strongman leaders before him, Trump is unleashing terror abroad to mask his own weakness at home.
The end of America first
Trump’s original foreign policy strategy was simple: redirect resources away from the US’ many complicated entanglements in the Middle East and towards an escalating trade war with China. In doing so, he would protect American lives and bring back jobs – the rest of the world could look after its own problems.
It was an argument that blended nationalist economics with a form of selective isolationism, and it resonated with Trump’s base. There was also a clear advantage to US capital, which feared losing technological dominance to rapidly advancing Chinese competitors. There was just one problem: Trump was never likely to win the trade war.
Trump belatedly realised this when China threatened to cut off access to rare earth metals – the essential materials that underpin advanced manufacturing, electronics, and military systems. China has spent decades building near-total dominance over the rare earth supply chain, and the US is heavily dependent on Chinese processing capacity.
Threatened with losing access to some of the most important inputs for US manufacturing, Trump was forced to back down. That made him look weak. And Trump – like any strongman – can’t afford to look weak.
The strongman image cracks
Trump’s promise to the American people was clear: I will protect you.
Convincing people that he could perform the role of supreme protector required creating the illusion of total strength. He initially succeeded in building a strongman persona. In fact, many of the aspects of Trump’s character that liberals found grotesque – from his attitudes towards women, to his business dealings – were the foundations of his appeal to his base.
But Trump’s climbdown over the trade war undermined this image of strength. And it wasn’t long before more chinks in his armour began to appear.
The most significant was the affordability crisis. Across the US, Americans are increasingly unable to afford the basics. Interest rates remain high, rents are climbing, food prices remain elevated, and healthcare premiums are extortionate. Many are struggling to make ends meet and are covering the difference with debt.
Trump’s supporters are not immune from these problems. His argument that the affordability crisis is a ‘hoax’ peddled by the Democrats just isn’t convincing when peoples’ grocery bills continue to soar. It increasingly looks like Trump doesn’t have the power to protect people from rising prices.
Then there’s the Epstein files. Trump promised to act as the protector of women by releasing the files and prosecuting the perpetrators – until it was revealed that he and his supporters were deeply embedded in the webs of coercion and abuse that underpinned Epstein’s empire.
A despot cornered
The trade war, the affordability crisis, the Epstein files – all these issues made Trump look weak. And he has responded with grotesque displays of violence and domination, in a desperate attempt to restore his strongman image.
First came his attacks on the American people: the horrifying spectre of people being abducted in the streets; the murders of Renne Good and Alex Pretti; the proliferation of detention camps, and the horrific human rights abuses committed within them. As I’ve argued before, the spread of this domestic terror is all part of Trump’s desperate attempt to appear strong.
Then came increasingly violent rhetoric abroad. Trump repeatedly issued threats towards Ukraine and Greenland in an attempt to access the resources he required to beat China in the trade war. In threatening the US’ allies, Trump sought to show that he would stop at nothing to protect America’s interests.
Then, came the return of the forever wars. Trump told us outright that his invasion of Venezuela was motivated by a desire to secure access to the country’s oil reserves, in direct violation of international law. As I argued at the time, the brazenness and illegality were part of the strategy – Trump needed to convince his base that he was strong enough to invade whoever he wanted, consequences be damned.
The return of forever wars
Despite these attempted displays of strength, Trump’s support continued to wane. Military escalation in Iran was the natural response. It helped that he could rely on support from the region’s own Trump – Israel’s genocidal leader, who knows his position is only secure for as long as his country is at war.
But, once again, the strategy of these embattled strongmen looks doomed to fail. They may have taken out Iran’s dictator, Ayatollah Khamenei - who recently stepped up his own of domestic terror in response to his growing unpopularity - but a political vacuum has emerged in his place. The old regime may yet consolidate around a new leader. Genuine regime change is likely to require boots on the ground.
The plan was to launch a set of targeted strikes as immediate, spectacular proof of American military dominance. Instead, the US may end up embroiled in another forever war that drains both blood and treasure. With only a quarter of Americans supporting his strikes on Iran, Trump’s plan has only undermined his popularity at home, while unleashing chaos abroad.
The trap of strongman politics
Trump built his political identity on personal dominance: the dealmaker, the protector, the man who bends reality to his will. But the structural constraints of the global economy – from China’s rise to the persistence of domestic inequality – have repeatedly exposed the limits of that narrative. In response, he has resorted to ever more chaotic displays of force.
This arc is a familiar pattern among threatened despots. Their legitimacy rests upon the projection of an image of total strength. The problem with this strategy is that it is a zero-sum game. When people believe the despot is powerful, he is popular. But as soon as that power begins to fray, the image of untouchability collapses – and the entire political project goes with it.
The strongman responds with ever more theatrical displays of force. First, he threatens his enemies at home – casting them as traitors, or domestic terrorists. Then, he might decide to ignite a conflict abroad – both to redirect attention, and to project power. But if these strategies fail, as they often do, they end up revealing weakness rather than demonstrating strength.
The more Trump needs to prove he is in control, the more destabilising his actions become. The strike on Iran was a risky, high stakes attempt to reassert authority at a moment when his economic strategy has run aground and his domestic legitimacy begins to fray. Read in this way, this latest act of violence reads less like the move of a confident hegemon and more like the reflex of a threatened one.


Trump is an empty vehicle for a declining empire lashing out for a spatial fix to its internal contradictions.
Trump, a vicious bully who often makes our world speechless, will wait for his reckoning by all those bullied in the world.