Trumpism and the naked reality of power politics
Power, rather than principle, remains the only enduring truth in the world of politics and control. Ideals such as morality, peace, equality, human rights, democracy, and international law often operate less as binding norms and more as rhetorical devices—selectively deployed to legitimise domination and obscure the brutality inherent in power. These concepts are invoked when convenient and discarded when they threaten entrenched interests. Donald Trump, more than any recent leader, has stripped away this pretence through statements and actions that have unsettled even long-standing allies.
In Trump’s worldview, power requires neither moral justification nor legal restraint, nor does it seek validation through multilateral consensus. This uncomfortable reality was implicitly acknowledged by former Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney in his widely cited speech at the World Economic Forum in Davos. He conceded that the so-called “rules-based international order” has often functioned selectively—applied stringently to weaker states while being bent, suspended, or ignored by powerful ones. That admission came at a moment when Canada itself faced threats to its sovereignty following Donald Trump’s remarks about annexation. In that instant, the illusion of equal rules, universal human rights, international law, and democratic norms collapsed, revealing the emergence of Trumpism as a worldview rooted in domination through unrestrained power.
Journalist Zahid Hussain captures this logic with stark clarity: “The image of a blindfolded and handcuffed Nicolás Maduro being taken to a prison in New York presented the ugly face of Trumpian imperialism. It is not the first time that the US, in pursuit of regime change, has invaded a sovereign state, but the abduction of the Venezuelan president and his wife is the most brazen instance of imperialistic aggression in recent history. The military action against Venezuela has exposed President Donald Trump, who has, ironically, attempted to present himself as a ‘man of peace’ in his quest for the Nobel Peace Prize. It is a violation of international law and demonstrates the unravelling of an already collapsing global order—or whatever is left of it. Trump has made it clear that America will continue to control the oil-rich country and its resources. ‘We are going to have a presence in Venezuela as it pertains to oil,’ Trump said, asserting America’s ‘right’ to the country’s oil… Trump has threatened Colombia and Cuba with similar action. ‘America can project our will anywhere, any time,’ declared defence chief Pete Hegseth, with the imperial arrogance that has become the hallmark of the Trump administration.”
Maleeha Lodhi, former ambassador to the US, UK, and the UN, reinforces this assessment. She writes: “There is no doubt President Donald Trump has shaken up the world order through his disruptive and unilateral policies. From upending the global trading system to launching military attacks in the Western Hemisphere and beyond, he has shown open contempt for international law and the sovereignty of other nations. Trump’s ‘America First’ foreign policy means riding roughshod over others.” His deputy chief of staff, Stephen Miller, articulated this worldview bluntly when he dismissed the very notion of a “rules-based system,” declaring: “We live in a world, in the real world, that is governed by strength, that is governed by force, that is governed by power.”
To be sure, Trump operates in an international environment already marked by fragmentation and growing disregard for global rules by major and regional powers alike. The resort to hard power has become increasingly frequent under a resurgent “might is right” doctrine. Yet Trump has amplified and sharpened these tendencies, pushing the international system closer to a Hobbesian state of lawlessness. Today’s world is increasingly governed by impunity. This era of impunity is evident not only in the US assault on Venezuela and the bombing of Iran, but also in Israel’s genocide in Gaza and attacks on neighbouring states, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, and India’s military strikes against Pakistan. In each case, the perpetrators calculated that the costs would be minimal and accountability absent—and they were largely correct.
Tragically, much of the global ruling elite adheres to this same principle. Despite internal rivalries and rhetorical differences, they ultimately close ranks to defend and advance their collective interests.
George Monbiot, writing in The Guardian, exposes the class dimension underpinning Trumpism: “Trump is not seizing Venezuela’s oil wealth for the sake of the US poor. He couldn’t give a damn about them, as his ‘big, beautiful bill’—robbing the poor to give to the rich—revealed. He covets Greenland on behalf of the same elite interests, of which he is the avatar.” When the world’s richest man, Elon Musk, dismantled USAID, Monbiot argues, it was done on behalf of his class, devastating the lives of the world’s poorest. The same logic drives Trump’s assaults on democracy and his war on the living world. The ultra-rich benefit most from destruction—both in accumulating wealth and in exercising power. The World Inequality Report shows that the richest one percent account for 41 percent of greenhouse gas emissions from private capital ownership—nearly double that of the bottom 90 percent. Through consumption alone, the top one percent produce as many emissions as the poorest two-thirds of humanity. Extreme inequality corrodes every aspect of life, creating what Monbiot describes as an “Epstein class” of global predators who no longer recognise a shared humanity and dismiss others as “non-player characters,” while branding empathy as a civilisational weakness.
In Counterpunch, Henry Giroux highlights the authoritarian mechanics of Trumpism: “Under the Trump administration, the politics of diversion has hardened into a governing strategy and been normalised by a compliant mainstream media ecosystem.” Citing Reuters journalist James Oliphant’s description of Trump as a “human hurricane,” Giroux argues that what appears as chaos is in fact calculated method. Trump is not merely a disruptive spectacle but an unchecked authoritarian posing a profound threat to democracy and the planet. What masquerades as turbulence is the deliberate exercise of power—one that weaponises confusion, accelerates cruelty, and exhausts the public into submission. Through this machinery of shock and distraction, state terrorism takes shape not as a singular act but as a continuous process of calculated ruptures and systemic violence.
In this context, the responsibility of the media becomes paramount. Exposing Trumpism—its logic, interests, and consequences—is not optional. It is an essential duty if its destructive effects are to be countered and if there remains any hope of contributing to the emergence of a more just, humane, and peaceful world.