How Nato's ‘Daddy strategy' finally conquered Donald Trump

Telegraph

5 hours ago

You might call it the 'Daddy strategy'. When Nato chiefs pondered how to handle Donald Trump at their summit in The Hague, they appear to have decided that mere praise and flattery were inadequate for the task. Instead, they turned high diplomacy into the art of calculated subservience.
Just as the Congress of Vienna of 1814-1815 was arranged around glittering balls and concerts – with a symphony conducted by Beethoven himself and the British delegation alone getting through 10,000 bottles of wine – so this summit in The Hague was designed to serve one purpose and one alone: satisfying Mr Trump's wants, needs and wishes.
If Mark Rutte, the Nato secretary general, had believed that Mr Trump yearned for 10,000 bottles of vintage, he would have arranged for their supply. Had he thought that Mr Trump wished to meet Beethoven, Mr Rutte would have attempted a resurrection.
As it turned out, the man who became the longest-serving prime minister in Dutch history – and happens to be 58 years old – publicly hailed Mr Trump as 'Daddy'.
When the president spoke of Iran and Israel as if they were squabbling children who had to be separated, Mr Rutte helpfully interjected: 'Daddy has to sometimes use strong language.' He was rewarded with a self-satisfied smile from the target of the adulation.
On arrival at The Hague, Mr Trump was swept to the elegant 17th-century splendour of Huis Ten Bosch palace – the Dutch version of Buckingham Palace – where he dined with other Nato leaders before staying overnight as the guest of King Willem-Alexander and Queen Máxima of the Netherlands.
Then, on Wednesday morning, as most leaders were bombarded with questions from the media as they drew up at the summit venue, Mr Trump was allowed to make his own entrance via a separate door. He would not have to deign to share the limelight with the small fry, namely the other 31 members of the alliance.
The summit sessions themselves were compressed into a three-hour sprint and the declaration cut to the barest minimum. One Nato official used to describe summit conclusions as 'our Bible' because they described everything that alliance headquarters in Brussels was charged with implementing.
But the Bible has been getting shorter. The Vilnius summit declaration in 2023 exceeded 11,000 words. Last year's conclusions in Washington totalled nearly 5,000 words. And the summit with 'daddy' Trump at The Hague? Just 424 words in five paragraphs.
All of this reflects the central fact about Nato, present since the alliance's birth in 1949. Its founding purpose was described by Lord Ismay, the first secretary general, as: 'Keeping the Russians out, the Americans in and the Germans down.'
The last goal has thankfully fallen away, but the first two are more urgent than ever. Alas they are also inter-dependent: keeping the Russians out requires the Americans to stay in. Why? Because one fact has remained constant since 1949 – and will not change in the foreseeable future: America is the pre-eminent superpower whose military strength towers over all of Europe combined.
The United States alone accounts for 66 per cent of total Nato defence spending; the other 31 allies provide only a third put together.
Hence Mr Trump's rage – which was shared by his predecessors – that America is paying too much and the Europeans are shamelessly free-riding. These European allies expect the US to honour its pledge under Article V of the Washington Treaty to come to their defence – even at the risk of nuclear war – and yet they consistently fail to pay their way.
European leaders privately admit that this extraordinary imbalance amounts to the biggest threat to Nato's future. They know that it must change. They are also aware that Europe's willingness to skimp on defence has created an extraordinary disparity of power around the Nato summit table.
Very few international clubs have one member providing fully two thirds of the heft. This stark fact gives Mr Trump what he prizes most and positively enjoys using: leverage over other nations. Hence the imperative of giving him what he wants. The only alternative, as Mr Rutte once put it, is to 'learn Russian'.
The summit's brief communiqué reflects this yawning imbalance of power. All allies, including America, reaffirm their 'ironclad commitment to collective defence as enshrined in Article V'. But in return for getting Mr Trump to sign up to this pledge, Europe has agreed to raise defence spending from the current target of 2 per cent of GDP to 3.5 per cent, with another 1.5 per cent on top for related infrastructure.
Put simply, they have given 'Daddy' everything he wants while gilding the substance with artful subservience.
Asked why he had called Mr Trump 'Daddy', Mr Rutte conceded that 'it's a bit of a question of taste', but denied that it was demeaning. 'He's a good friend,' said Mr Rutte, pointing out how the president was 'forcing' Europe to spend more on defence. 'Doesn't he deserve some praise?' he asked.
Daddy himself certainly thinks so. When he appeared at the final press conference, tired on his feet but visibly elated by the attention, Mr Trump's words revealed the triumph of Mr Rutte's 'daddy strategy'.
'It was a fairly long trip but worth it,' said Mr Trump. 'Tremendous things have been accomplished.'
The stay in the Palace was evidently a home-run for the hosts. Mr Trump announced that he had 'slept beautifully' and the King and Queen were 'beautiful people'. In fact, the royal couple were worthy of his highest accolade: 'They're central casting,' he said.
And the overall effect was exactly what the secretary general was hoping for. 'I came here because it was something I was supposed to be doing,' said Mr Trump. 'But I left here a little bit different.'
He described how every leader had spoken with 'love and passion' about their countries. 'They want to protect their country,' said Mr Trump. 'They were so respectful of me.'
He continued: 'Almost every one of them said 'thank God for the United States, without the United States we couldn't have Nato.'
Then Mr Trump said the vital words which signalled that all had been forgiven. 'It's not a rip off,' he declared of Nato. 'And we're here to help them.'
Now, instead of 31 delinquents, there was only one. Spain has refused to increase its defence budget to 5 per cent of GDP and Mr Trump denounced this decision as 'very terrible'. He vowed to conduct trade negotiations with Spain in person – apparently unaware that such matters are handled by the EU – and promised to 'make them pay twice as much'. Daddy is not nice to all his children.
And the family had made another gesture for the sake of his happiness. The summit declaration was the first since 2022 that failed to condemn Russia's invasion of Ukraine. One sentence in paragraph three stated that the allies 'reaffirm their enduring sovereign commitments to provide support to Ukraine,' but without saying why that support was necessary.
If they had told the truth and blamed Daddy's other friend, Vladimir Putin, he would not have approved. Daddy went home happy, but pleasing him carries a price.