Yes, we all know it looks terrible. We have heard what Donald Trump has promised. But could there be silver linings to these ominous clouds? The election was two days ago. Tomorrow is another day, and this strange, faulty, thin-skinned but tough-as-nails character is notable for one thing: unpredictability.
The essence of Trump is that he is not a politician but an egotistical wheeler-dealer. He is not a strategist, let alone an ideologue. Dealers are judged by their deeds, not their words. They react to circumstance by talking, negotiating, not policymaking. Trump is said by his friends to be aware of the mistakes he made last time round. That he is desperate not to do so again is good news.
Trump was elected largely because a majority of Americans took a liking to him as a person. They shared his enemies. They could stand his faults because his vulnerabilities seemed as genuine as his authenticity. These voters were not typical Republicans of the conservative bourgeoisie. If anything, those Republicans voted Democrat. Trumps voters were the poor, the under-educated, provincial and male. This time, support for Trump was far stronger among minority groups. In Britain, these would be traditional Labour voters.
Trump has to deliver on his promise to them. He must tackle inflation and protect his supporters’ jobs and their incomes. That alone should moderate his fiscal extremism. His supposed attack on immigration cannot be as savage as he promises. Rounding up and deporting literally millions of families will be seen as inhumane and impractical. Instead, Trump will have to talk to Mexico and the rest of Latin America on border policing, as Britain must talk with the rest of Europe. Border security has become a global challenge.
Trump’s insistence on state discretion in matters such as abortion, crime and punishment – though his desire for more executions is abhorrent – is not in itself misguided. The essence of the US’s history is its ability to delegate matters of social policy to the states, to allow different Americans a degree of autonomy. This election clearly indicates that Americans thought federal centralism has gone too far. Certainly, Washington’s bureaucracy is beyond comprehension, and Trump is right to seek its correction, if only at the hands of Elon Musk.
The same applies to Trump’s protectionism. A nation’s trade is about interests, not ideology. There is a strong case, as Biden recognised, for the US fending off the Chinese dumping of electric cars, which is eradicating its domestic sector. It would be unwise to do the same to Europe, which would invite tariff retaliation. Indeed, a good test of Britain’s “special relationship” with the US – and of Brexit – would be if Keir Starmer can selectively fend off a threatened tariff on Britain. Alternatively, a collective European response might aid a desperately needed reintegration of Britain’s trade with the EU.
On foreign affairs, Trump’s known aversion to war is good. He craves to talk, as he showed in his abortive 2018 summit with North Korea. He is right that the west’s ostracism of Vladimir Putin’s Russia is a mistake, when so much currently depends on stabilising Europe’s balance of power. Trump’s realpolitik may seem fanciful, but his goal of a swift settlement in Ukraine is more likely to end the war than western demands for an impossible Ukrainian “victory”.
Whatever extreme remarks Trump has made in the past, he is entitled to ask how long Europe expects US taxpayers to bear the cost of deterring putative Russian aggression. With Germany and to an extent France both politically weakened, it is urgent to bring Nato together on a European strategy for handling Russia as long as Putin is in power. Trump’s goading could yet trigger a new relationship between Britain and Europe. Starmer should see this as an opportunity.
In short, Trump has shown a refreshing rejection of the myth cited by so many presidents of the US as “the city upon a hill”, the saviour of all mankind. He is no crusader enforcing western values on a sinful world. He holds to George Washington’s maxim that the US abroad should have interests, not favourites. If this stops him trying to “police” Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya – and perhaps soon Georgia, Moldova and even Taiwan – the world may be marginally less free. It might also be saved from what has been almost half a century of mostly senseless bloodshed and war. Trump might even “make America small again”.
The irony is that the biggest beneficiary of a Trump interlude may yet be America’s liberal progressives, who have clearly failed to sell their wares to a majority of the country’s citizens. The fact that 56% of non-graduates supported Trump suggests a strident voice from well outside the liberal camp. That voice opposes anti-police funding, the preoccupation with diversity and woke culture wars on campus. It indicates a working-class hostility to a superior elite that has shown little interest in its concerns. Progressive America must recognise its shortcomings and reargue its case. That is the opportunity Trump has so generously offered.
Simon Jenkins is a Guardian columnist
