Donald Trump’s second term has made one thing clear: American diplomacy is no longer built on alliances; it’s built on transactions. One of the latest examples was Washington and Brussels celebrating a tariff truce at the end of July. The EU agreed to a 15% ceiling on most imports and pledged massive purchases of U.S. energy and military goods. To Trump, this was a “win.” To America’s allies, it was another reminder that strategic ties are now bargaining chips.
As his vice president, JD Vance, put it after Trump had signed the deal, American media would undoubtedly run headlines like, "Donald Trump Only Got 99.9% of What He Asked For." This style is unlike that of former President Richard Nixon’s cold, yet calculated, “realpolitik.” Trump’s approach is impulsive, short-term and purely transactional. It’s not a strategy, it’s bargaining. What appears to be defused tension between Washington and Brussels is one of the latest examples of how Trump turns global diplomacy into a marketplace. And what appears as diplomatic success is, in fact, just another symptom of a broader shift away from trust-based partnerships and toward quid pro quo globalism.
Commentators are tempted to see echoes of Nixon’s “madman theory” in Trump’s high-risk style. But that’s too generous. Nixon’s madness was calculated; his chaos was strategic. Trump’s approach is something far more volatile: pawn-shop diplomacy. Every crisis becomes a deal. Every ally becomes a customer. Every commitment has a price tag.
Perhaps the most brazen example came in February 2025, when Trump publicly tied U.S. aid to Ukraine to access to its rare-earth minerals. “We want Ukraine’s very valuable rare earths ... to secure what we’re giving them,” he said.
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy called the proposal a “pragmatic investment” for the U.S., though in reality, the deal was scaled back after pushback. It didn’t matter; the damage was done.
Six months later, in August, Russia faced an ultimatum threatening secondary sanctions on buyers of its oil exports – among them India and China – unless Moscow and Kyiv reach an agreement on ending the war. Beijing shrugged and declared its intention to continue importing in line with its own interests, while New Delhi, far more economically dependent on Washington, was forced to scramble for alternative supplies.
Nixon may have unsettled adversaries with unpredictability in his time, but he never told allies that support was conditional in the Western alliance, especially when the peace itself hung in the balance.
The same pattern played out in April 2025. Trump unveiled sweeping tariffs, including a 10% tariff on all imports, and up to 50% tariffs on cars, steel, and aluminum, timed to a “Liberation Day” press event in the Rose Garden. Allies were caught in the blast. Canada faced 35% tariffs after talks stalled; pharmaceuticals were threatened with 200% duties; and countries “aligning with anti-American BRICS” were warned of punitive levies.
Supporters saw toughness. Allies saw volatility. Nixon’s trade policy sought and built enduring frameworks, such as improving trade and diplomatic ties through the Nixon-Sato Communique in 1969 with Japan. In contrast, Trump prefers deadlines and ultimatums, alienating even long-standing partners and sparking retaliation.
In June 2025, a 12-day war erupted after Israeli strikes on Iranian nuclear sites. Trump praised Israel’s actions as “excellent” and deployed Patriots to intercept Iranian rockets. At the same time, he threatened Iran with “bombing like they’ve never seen” unless they returned to nuclear talks. Tehran walked away. In the weeks that followed, Senator Ted Cruz, in a widely shared interview on Tucker Carlson’s program, repeated unverified claims that Iran had plotted to assassinate the U.S. president, while U.S. intelligence sharing and arms transfers to Israel proceeded with no public oversight, reinforcing the impression that allies must earn America’s loyalty through concessions.
Nixon and his Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger, often operated in secrecy, aware that overexposure could kill delicate negotiations. Trump’s maximalism – unconditional support for allies, public threats to adversaries – leaves no room for quiet diplomacy.
Trump’s defenders argue that transactional diplomacy forces allies to pay more and breaks through global inertia. But the costs are mounting. Political scientist Joseph Nye once warned that Trump suffers from “transactional myopia,” trading long-term credibility for short-term gain.
In the absence of any Kissinger-like strategist to anchor U.S. policy, every instrument, including tariffs, aid packages and arms sales, is wielded as a bargaining chip. And when diplomacy becomes nothing more than a ledger of favors, trust erodes irreparably.
Allies are already recalculating. NATO members are discussing European defense autonomy more openly. Indo-Pacific partners hedge with China. Middle powers such as Türkiye, India and Brazil are focusing on charting more independent courses.
American influence was built over decades on credibility, not quarterly transactions. Once trust is lost, it is far harder to restore than to impose a tariff. Nixon’s world was cynical but ordered. Trump is transactional and chaotic. And in that chaos, the world’s alliances are being sold off, one deal at a time.
