“Nothing personal, just business.” This might as well be the guiding principle of Donald Trump’s foreign policy— cold, calculated, and ruthlessly transactional. Gone are the days of diplomacy based on shared values or long-term alliances. Under Trump’s leadership, the USA has reduced its global commitments to a series of profit-driven deals, where allies must either “pay up” or be discarded. From NATO to Ukraine, from India to Israel, and from China to the European Union, no country has been spared the brunt of Trump’s “America First, Allies Last” doctrine.
The most striking example of this shift has been his handling of NATO and European allies, whom he has consistently berated for what he calls “free-riding” on U.S. security guarantees. Trump’s frequent complaints that European nations are “not paying their fair share” in defence spending culminated in his open threat to withdraw the USA from NATO altogether. His demands for increased military contributions, though long debated within NATO, were delivered with an unprecedented bluntness that rattled allies.
Germany and France, long regarded as pillars of European security, found themselves at the receiving end of Trump’s ire, with German Chancellor Olaf Scholz cautioning that a US retreat would be tantamount to “handing Europe over to Russia.” Meanwhile, Trump’s administration imposed 25 percent tariffs on European steel and aluminum, citing vague “national security concerns”, triggering a full-blown trade war. The European Union retaliated with counter-tariffs, deepening a transatlantic rift unseen since World War II.
Nowhere has Trump’s transactional approach been more explicit than in his dealings with Ukraine. His administration’s reluctance to provide military assistance unless Kyiv “paid in return” shattered long-held norms of US strategic commitments. Trump’s rhetoric took an even more disturbing turn when he suggested that Ukraine should “give up minerals” in exchange for continued US military aid, effectively turning a war-torn nation’s suffering into a bargaining chip. In contrast to past US presidents who framed Ukraine’s defence against Russian aggression as a matter of democratic principle, Trump approached it as a financial ledger.
His mocking of Volodymyr Zelensky’s repeated pleas for U.S. support, coupled with his demand that Ukraine should “start thinking about how to return the $500 billion we’ve given them,” painted a grim picture of a superpower wielding its influence not as a global leader, but as a debt collector. Adding insult to injury, Trump dismissed Zelensky as a mere “comedian” and even labeled him a “dictator in disguise,” casting doubt on the legitimacy of Ukraine’s leadership while Russia continued its onslaught.
A similarly profit-driven mindset dictated Trump’s Middle East policy, particularly regarding Gaza and Israel. The decision to move the US Embassy to Jerusalem in 2018 was framed as a diplomatic victory, but it was also a move that alienated Palestine and much of the Arab world, solidifying the perception that the USA had abandoned even the pretence of neutrality. The so-called “Deal of the Century”— a peace plan dictated largely by Israeli interests— offered Palestine little more than an ultimatum to accept territorial losses without significant political concessions. Trump’s crowning diplomatic achievement in the region, the Abraham Accords, which normalized ties between Israel and several Gulf nations, was less about regional peace and more about lucrative arms deals. Countries like the UAE secured $23 billion in US fighter jets and drones as a reward for aligning with Washington’s strategic realignment.
In a more alarming development, Trump proposed a plan to “take over” Gaza, suggesting the permanent displacement of its 2.2 million Palestinian residents and repurposing the territory, a move widely condemned as a blueprint for ethnic cleansing. This proposal not only violated international law but also threatened to destabilize the region further, as neighbouring Arab nations like Jordan and Egypt rejected any attempts to resettle Palestinians within their borders. Such actions exemplify how Trump’s transactional approach prioritized short-term gains and alliances over long-standing commitments to human rights and regional stability.
Trump’s trade wars were not limited to adversaries but extended even to the USA’s closest neighbours. His imposition of tariffs on Canadian steel and aluminium under the guise of national security strained relations with Ottawa, provoking retaliatory measures. Meanwhile, his administration forced Mexico into a renegotiated NAFTA— now the USMCA— under the threat of trade restrictions, exemplifying his willingness to strong-arm even allied nations. Further straining relations, Trump made a controversial remark suggesting Canada should consider becoming a US state, a statement that sparked outrage in Ottawa and reinforced his dismissive attitude toward allied sovereignty.
His perception of foreign policy as a series of real estate transactions was also evident in his bizarre proposal to buy Greenland from Denmark. Despite the Danish government rejecting the idea outright, Trump reacted petulantly, cancelling a planned visit to Copenhagen and calling Denmark an ungrateful ally. Similarly, his suggestion that the USA should reclaim the Panama Canal decades after its transfer to Panama, stirred unnecessary diplomatic tensions, reflecting a neo-colonial mindset that alienated Latin American nations. These incidents underscored the sheer unpredictability of Trump’s foreign policy, where even historic treaties and longstanding agreements were subject to his transactional whims.
The central question now is whether the USA can sustain its global leadership under such a mercenary approach. While the Trump administration justifies its actions as “America First”, the reality is that this philosophy has weakened US influence, alienated key allies, and emboldened adversaries who see Washington as an unreliable partner. As the world recalibrates its alliances, one thing is certain: the era of unconditional US support is over, and those who once relied on US leadership must now brace for an era of unpredictability and hard bargains.
Despite the spectacle of camaraderie between Donald Trump and Narendra Modi, the US-India relationship under Trump quickly soured, exposing the transactional nature of his foreign policy. In 2019, he revoked India’s preferential trade status under the Generalized System of Preferences (GSP), stripping $5.6 billion worth of Indian exports of duty-free access to the US market. He repeatedly branded India the “tariff king” and an “abuser” of trade relations, despite India holding a $45.6 billion trade surplus with the USA. His administration’s relentless focus on trade deficits led to the imposition of retaliatory tariffs on India just hours before a scheduled diplomatic meeting, a move that reinforced his belief in aggressive economic nationalism over stable alliances.
Beyond trade, Trump’s hardline immigration policies extended to India as well. In a span of just two weeks, his administration deported over 330 Indian nationals, with many subjected to a grueling 40-hour journey in shackles. The timing of these deportations, occurring right before Modi’s visit to Washington, was particularly humiliating for a leader who had closely aligned himself with Trump. It must, therefore, have been a humiliating time for Modi, who has long been a fan of Trump, with whom he shares the same authoritarian inclinations.
This episode epitomized how Trump’s approach to foreign relations reduced even strategic allies to mere bargaining chips, where loyalty was no shield against his administration’s punitive measures. His disregard for long-term partnerships in favor of immediate leverage not only strained US-India ties but also exposed the fragility of alliances under his self-serving, transactional diplomacy.
The same model of aggressive, short-term economic self-interest applied to Trump’s relationship with China, though in a more adversarial form. His administration’s trade war with Beijing, meant to correct long-standing imbalances, ended up hurting US consumers and businesses more than it did China. By imposing $370 billion in tariffs on Chinese imports, Trump triggered retaliatory measures that cost the US economy an estimated $1.7 trillion in stock market losses and wiped out 300,000 US jobs.
While his administration justified these policies as necessary to curb Chinese influence, the actual results were chaotic and contradictory— one moment escalating tensions, the next lavishing praise on Xi Jinping, only to later blame China for the covid-19 pandemic. The inconsistency highlighted the absence of a coherent long-term strategy, leaving both economic and diplomatic relations in a state of unpredictability.
Trump’s approach to geopolitics has been fundamentally shaped by his belief that traditional alliances are not partnerships, but transactions. Whether it is NATO, Ukraine, India, or China, his policies have been dictated not by shared strategic goals, but by immediate financial gains and political leverage. The USA, long seen as a stabilizing force in global affairs, has under Trump shifted towards a model where allies are expected to “pay up or shut up”.
The central question now is whether the USA can sustain its global leadership under such a mercenary approach. While the Trump administration justifies its actions as “America First”, the reality is that this philosophy has weakened US influence, alienated key allies, and emboldened adversaries who see Washington as an unreliable partner. As the world recalibrates its alliances, one thing is certain: the era of unconditional US support is over, and those who once relied on US leadership must now brace for an era of unpredictability and hard bargains.
