For decades, American foreign policy was defined by carefully choreographed visits. Leaders arrived at welcoming ceremonies, held planned talks with allies and adversaries, and ended with joint statements of shared values and cooperation.
That script has been flipped. Now, diplomacy begins with a public grievance – usually a tweet – accusing partners of freeloading on trade or defense. The pre-visit storm creates pressure, weakening the host nation’s position and pushing it to the table with concessions in hand.
This is not “America First.” It is “America Only.” The message is clear: pay up or face the consequences.
This pattern repeated across regions, but it began in the Gulf in May this year. Before starting his trip, President Donald Trump demanded that countries “pay their fair share” for regional security. Afterward, the numbers flowed: massive arms deals, tech investments and infrastructure announcements – some into the trillions.
The White House celebrated a $600 billion pledge from Saudi Arabia, including an $80 billion tech investment and a $142 billion arms package. The UAE pledged $1.4 trillion over 10 years, while Qatar signed deals worth $1.2 trillion, according to the White House’s own figures. Even tiny Bahrain, which is home to the U.S. Fifth Fleet, was pushed into signing $17 billion in energy and tech contracts despite having a GDP of just $47 billion.
None of this was framed as cooperation. It was sold as proof that Trump’s tough talk works. But what it really showed was something else: power used not to lead, but to extract.
Even alliances became rackets, where Washington dictated the terms and allies paid "protection money."
A 15% tariff threat loomed until Seoul agreed to a massive package: $350 billion in direct U.S. investments and $100 billion more for American natural gas. Trump even spun the deal as military cost-sharing, pointing to South Korea’s $1.47 billion agreement to host U.S. troops. Even after the trade deal was secured, Trump kept playing his trump card. On Truth Social, he railed, “WHAT IS GOING ON IN SOUTH KOREA?” – a warning shot just as South Korean President Lee Jae Myun arrived in Washington for his first official visit. Soon after, the trip concluded with yet another investment pledge: Hyundai, Samsung, Korean Air, and others pledged a combined $150 billion.
Even the long-standing ally and the second-largest economy in the world, Europe, was cornered. Before touching down in Europe, Trump launched a familiar barrage: complaints about trade imbalances, gripes about defense spending, and threats of tariffs. The result was a climate of instability that pushed European leaders to de-escalate. Call it diplomacy if you like. To many, the "tariff truce" in July was "collection day." Europe paid to keep the tariffs – and the chaos – away. The bloc agreed to cap imports and buy American: $750 billion in energy, plus another $600 billion in other goods, though analysts questioned whether these figures reflected firm commitments or inflated projections.
Even when the EU blinked, it was not easy for others. Trump threatened a blanket 25% tariff on all Japanese imports, zeroing in on its autos. When Tokyo didn’t bite, he raised the stakes, saying tariffs could hit 30%, maybe even 35%. Not long after, Japan agreed to invest $550 billion in the U.S.
Trump justified his tariffs as a way to fix trade deficits. But the math never added up. Brazil proved it: despite running a trade surplus with the U.S., it was slapped with the steepest rate of all: 50%. Countries like Japan or the EU may run goods deficits with the U.S., yet they balance those with financial surpluses. A coherent plan would have accounted for that.
Instead, tariffs became ransom notes. They went up, down or disappeared entirely depending on what Trump wanted at the table. They weren’t tools of economic reform, they were threats designed to give him the upper hand in every negotiation.
Trump threatened China with tariffs as high as 245%, but after Geneva, he settled for just 30% – far too little to correct the gap. When Beijing had leverage, the shakedown collapsed. And with rare minerals as its trump card, China holds leverage that will make the coming days far harder for Washington.
India, trying to balance its energy ties with Russia, became the next target. The Trump administration responded with a 25% tariff hike, effectively doubling duties on Indian goods. The move was publicly framed as pressure on Moscow, but the timing and severity of the tariffs were also a clear message to Delhi: pick a side. If India cuts energy or defense deals with Russia, those billions must go somewhere else, and Washington is ready with open arms.
So far, Delhi hasn’t paid tribute. On Aug. 27, tariffs on Indian goods were raised again, this time to 50%, yet India held firm. Officials in New Delhi insisted they would continue to buy oil “from where we get the best deal,” signaling that Washington’s pressure may not work so easily against a nation determined to guard its strategic autonomy.
Of course, proponents of this approach argue that it is a necessary corrective to decades of what they see as weak, feckless foreign policy. They claim that the U.S. has been taken advantage of and that only by leveraging America's economic might can a truly "fair" deal be achieved. They see the "investments" as proof that the strategy works. As U.S. Trade Representative Jamieson Greer wrote in The New York Times, “reform is at hand,” and “elites in Washington and on Wall Street seemed all too eager to applaud.”
But applause doesn’t erase the cost. Countries once willing to live in America’s shadow are now stepping into the light. Faced with Trump’s unpredictability, states began building their own shields. Türkiye, once dependent on U.S. aircraft, turned itself into a defense producer, exporting drones and engines. Europe, long reliant on NATO, held its first defense summit and pledged billions for an independent arms industry, mobilizing up to 800 billion euros ($930 billion). Poland is already looking for ways to pay its share, proposing to raise corporate taxes from 19% to 30% by 2026.
India and Pakistan diversified suppliers, while Beijing and Moscow were quick to sell weapons, though they offered influence, not guarantees. The trend was unmistakable: countries that once tolerated dependence were now racing to stand on their own.
Trump’s approach treated every country like a tributary state in a protection racket. But that only works as long as they stay dependent. Once dependents start protecting themselves, the racket falls apart – and with it, America’s claim to leadership.
