Trump doesn't have a foreign policy

Vox

5 hours ago

is a senior correspondent at Vox, where he covers ideology and challenges to democracy, both at home and abroad. His book on democracy,, was published 0n July 16. You can purchase it here.
This story was adapted from the On the Right newsletter. New editions drop every Wednesday. Sign up here.
For years, there has been an increasingly bitter foreign policy fight between two factions of the Republican Party. On one hand, you have the GOP hawks like Sen. Lindsey Graham (SC) who want the United States to impose its will on the world by force. On the other, you have the 'America First' crowd — like Tucker Carlson and Vice President JD Vance — who want the US to withdraw from international commitments and refocus its attention on domestic concerns.
The big question, as always, is where President Donald Trump lands. If Trump says that the MAGA foreign policy is one thing, then that's what it is — and the rest of the party falls in line.
On one read, Trump's early response to the Israel-Iran war settles the debate in the hawks' favor. After months of opposing an Israeli strike, Trump rapidly flipped after the attack looked more and more successful. Since then, his rhetoric has grown increasingly heated, opening the door to possible US involvement. And he has publicly attacked Carlson for criticizing the war, writing on Truth Social that 'somebody [should] please explain to kooky Tucker Carlson that, 'IRAN CAN NOT HAVE A NUCLEAR WEAPON!''
And yet, I think the factional debate remains far less settled than it seems. In fact, I believe it will remain unsettled as long as Trump is in power.
Trump's own foreign policy thinking does not align neatly with either of the two main camps. The president does not do systematic foreign policy, but rather acts on the basis of a collection of impulses that could never amount to anything so grandiose as a doctrine. Those gut instincts include a sense that the United States should look out for itself only, ignore any rules or norms that might constrain it, use force aggressively without regard to civilian casualties, and seek 'deals' with other states that advantage the United States and/or make Donald Trump look good personally.
It looks, in effect, like an internationalized version of Trump's approach to New York real estate in the 1980s and 1990s.
But its significance for US policy is widely underappreciated. His lack of ideology does not mean that he can be permanently persuaded by one faction or the other, but rather produces volatility. The president has teetered back and forth between interventionism and isolationism, depending on the interplay between Trump's idiosyncratic instincts and whoever he's talking with on a particular day.
Given the near-dictatorial power modern presidents have over foreign policy, this will likely produce something worse than ideological rigidity: an incoherent, mutually contradictory policy that ends up undermining itself at every turn. At a moment of acute geopolitical peril, when Trump's ascendant hawkish allies are calling for yet another war of regime change in the Middle East, it's easy to see how that could end in true disaster.
Trump's real foreign policy guide is his instincts
Foreign policy analysts like to talk a lot about 'grand strategy.' What they mean by this is a vision that identifies the objectives leaders want to accomplish in world politics — like, say, protecting American territories from physical threats — and then develops a series of specific policies designed to work together in accomplishing that goal.
Both the right's hawks and the America First crowd have distinct visions of grand strategy.
The hawks start from the premise that the United States benefits from being the world's dominant power, and from there they develop a series of policies designed to contain or eliminate threats to that dominance from hostile powers like Russia or China. The America Firsters, by contrast, believe that remaining a globe-spanning power costs the United States too much in blood and treasure — and that the American people will be both safer and more secure if the US reduces its involvement in non-essential conflicts and lets other countries settle their differences without American help.
When you start from each of these grand strategic premises, you can basically deduce where most members of each bloc land on specific issues. The hawks love Israel's war in Iran, while the America Firsters fear it might pull in the United States more directly. The hawks believe in aggressively trying to contain Chinese influence in East Asia, while the America Firsters seek accommodations that don't risk a nuclear war over Taiwan. The hawks (mostly) support arming Ukraine against Russia, while the America Firsters are overwhelmingly against it.
On all of these issues, Trump's actual policy is all over the map.
He first tried to negotiate a nuclear agreement with Iran, which the hawks hated, but swiftly flipped to supporting Israel's war. His China policy has been inconsistent, pairing initially harsh tariffs and talk of trade 'decoupling' with a negotiated climb-down and vagueness on Taiwan. On Ukraine, where Trump cozies up to Russia's Vladimir Putin and berates Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy in the Oval Office, the policy substance is even more muddled — he has cut US aid to Ukraine while simultaneously extending President Joe Biden's sanctions on Russia, and even threatened new ones if Putin won't make a ceasefire deal.
Trump's second-term record, in short, is a tangle of incoherent policies and whiplash-inducing policy shifts. There is no consistent vision of the world, just whatever Trump decides policy should be in the moment — regardless of how much it contradicts what he's said or done previously. And while all presidents have to develop new policies based on events, the Trump administration makes confusing and radical policy shifts over the course of very limited time periods (Exhibit A: the still-fluctuating tariff rates).
This foreign policy ping-pong can only be understood if you see Trump as someone who is allergic to foreign policy doctrine. You can spin his allergy positively (he's pragmatic) or negatively (he knows nothing and doesn't care to learn). Perhaps both are true to a degree, but the evidence — like his refusal to read briefing documents — tilts heavily in the latter direction.
What we get, in place of doctrine, are Trump's instincts about interests, deals, and strength.
We know he thinks about current US policy in zero-sum terms, such as that NATO and trade agreements cannot benefit both sides. We know he's indifferent to legal constraints from domestic and international law. We know he's willing to use force aggressively, authorizing attacks against terrorist groups in his first term that produced shockingly high civilian body counts. And we know he sees himself as the consummate dealmaker, with much of his policy seemingly premised on the idea that he can get leaders like Putin and China's Xi Jinping onside.
Sometimes, of course, these instincts combine and crash into each other — with Iran as a case in point.
Trump spent quite a lot of effort in his second term trying to negotiate a new nuclear deal with Iran. In both April and May, he explicitly warned Israel not to attack Iran. Yet now he seems fully on board with Israel's war, posting bellicose Truth Social posts suggesting Iranians should ​​'immediately evacuate Tehran.'
Trump's jumping from negotiations to cheerleading war is not a result of him changing his foreign policy worldview. It's that he wanted to be the dealmaker and then was persuaded, by a combination of Israeli pressure and his own lack of patience, that the talks weren't working. Hence, Trump decided, war would be the order of the day.
'Now Mr. Trump is seriously considering sending American aircraft in to help refuel Israeli combat jets and to try to take out Iran's deep-underground nuclear site at Fordo with 30,000-pound bombs — a step that would mark a stunning turnabout from his opposition just two months ago to any military action while there was still a chance of a diplomatic solution,' the New York Times reports.
But even amid said deliberations, Trump pines to be the dealmaker — suggesting in an ABC News interview this weekend that war 'had to happen' for talks to succeed, and that it 'may have forced a deal to go quicker.' His more hawkish allies see Israel's offensive as the opening shots in a war of regime change; Trump sees it as the art of the deal.
It is, in short, a category error to try to align Trump with one GOP foreign policy faction or the other. He's just Trump — a man with a long track record of endorsing and ordering armed violence, but also a deep faith in his near-magical dealmaking powers.
Trump's real policy is chaos
So, if Trump's guide is his instincts, why do the factional disagreements splitting the GOP matter?
Because we know for a fact that Trump can be easily influenced by the people around him. While he has some fixed and unchangeable views, like his peculiar idea that trade deficits are inherently bad, there are many areas on which he doesn't have a strong opinion about the facts — and can be talked in one direction or another. This is the well-known phenomenon of Trump making public pronouncements based on whoever he spoke to most recently.
In Trump's first term, this ended up having a surprisingly stabilizing effect on policy. He was surrounded by more establishment types like Jim Mattis and Mark Milley, who would frequently talk him out of more radical policies — or else quietly make policies on their own that were consistent with longstanding bipartisan consensus.
There were still many Trumpian moments — everyone forgets that we were shockingly close to war with North Korea in 2017 — but the overall foreign policy record wasn't as radical as many feared.
As we all know, the second term is different. The Mattis types are gone, replaced instead by loyalists. The factional disputes are not between Trump's allies and establishmentarians who wished to check him, but rather between different strains of MAGA — some more hawkish, others more dovish. But neither is big on stability, in the sense of wanting to ensure Trump colors within the longstanding lines of post-Cold War US foreign policy.
This creates a situation where each faction is trying to persuade Trump that their approach best and most truly embodies his MAGA vision. The problem, however, is that no such vision exists. Each will have successes at various times, when they succeed at tapping into whichever of Trump's instincts is operative at the moment. But none will ever succeed in making Trump act like the ideologue they want him to be.
What this means, in concrete policy terms, is that the chaos and contradictions of Trump's early foreign policy is likely to continue.
In the post-9/11 era, presidents have accrued extraordinary powers over foreign policy. Even explicit constitutional provisions, like the requirement that Congress declare war or approve treaties, no longer serve as meaningful checks on the president's ability to use force or alter US international commitments.
This environment means that the twin factors shaping Trump's thinking — his own jumbled instincts and his subordinates' jockeying for his favor — are likely to have direct and immediate policy consequences. We've seen that in the whiplash of his early-term policies in areas like trade and Iran, and have every reason to believe it will continue for the foreseeable future.
In a new Foreign Affairs essay, the political scientist Elizabeth Saunders compares US foreign policy under Trump to that of a 'personalist' dictatorship: places where one man rules with no real constraints, like Russia or North Korea. Such countries, she notes, have a long track record of foreign policy boondoggles.
'Without constraints, even from elites in the leader's inner circle, personalist dictators are prone to military misadventures, erratic decisions, and self-defeating policies,' she writes. 'A United States that can change policy daily, treat those who serve its government with cruelty, and take reckless actions that compromise its basic systems and leave shared secrets and assets vulnerable is not one to be trusted.'