A large part of political analysis tends to interpret the behavior of the United States under Donald Trump as a product of exceptional personal traits, combining populism with a tendency towards confrontation and disregard for diplomatic norms. However, this interpretation, despite its prevalence, remains inadequate. It isolates the phenomenon from its structural and strategic context, transforming it into an individual anomaly, instead of reading it as an expression of a deeper shift in how the United States manages its conflict with the most significant rising power in the international system, namely China.
Trump, with his crude style and provocative rhetoric, was not an unexpected actor within the American establishment. He was not an aberration from it as much as he was a moment of revelation for what had accumulated within influential sectors of the Republican Party. These sectors came to believe that the diplomatic system that had governed American foreign policy since the end of the Cold War was no longer capable of dealing with the pattern of China's rise. China did not pursue a path of direct confrontation, but rather adopted a quiet, calculated, and gradual expansionist policy, avoiding military conflict, and quietly accumulating economic, technological, and energy influence in a way that is difficult to contain within traditional liberal rules.
In this context, classical American diplomacy was no longer an effective tool to curb China. On the contrary, it began to be seen as a framework that gave Beijing time and space to expand its influence without direct cost. From this, a new perception began to crystallize within Washington: if China was moving wisely within the system, then confronting this rise required transcending some of its rules. Not through direct confrontation with Beijing, but by circumventing it, and striking at the joints of its non-military expansion, especially in the areas of energy, supply chains, and geopolitical influence.
Here, Trump's nomination for a second term can be understood, despite the Republican Party's prior knowledge of his unconventional style and confrontational practices, even after his loss to Joe Biden. This nomination was not merely a gamble on a controversial personality, but an implicit acknowledgment that this rough style of behavior was now seen as a functional tool in a moment of conflict with a rising power that excels at operating within the system and avoiding direct confrontation.
From this perspective, US policies during that period do not appear to be a random deviation from the institutional path, but a conscious shift towards a more confrontational tactical pattern. A pattern that redefines power, not as the ability to build long-term consensus, but as a direct pressure tool used to break down barriers that are difficult to overcome under traditional diplomacy. In this framework, transcending "political correctness" becomes a working tool, not a moral burden, and breaking liberal rules becomes a means to achieve goals that were difficult to reach under an international system that gives China the advantage of quiet movement.
This shift re-imagines the international system as a zero-sum arena. Not because Washington rejects multilateralism in principle, but because it believes that China benefits from it more than it should. There is no place for value discourse or normative commitments unless they translate into tangible material superiority. This represents a clear break with the traditional liberal conception of American leadership, which has long relied on combining power and legitimacy.
The problem here lies not only in the sharpness of this approach, but in its assumption that breaking the rules will automatically weaken China. Harsh pressure may achieve quick tactical gains, but at the same time, it creates strategic vacuums. These vacuums do not remain unoccupied, but may push China itself, and other powers, to accelerate the construction of alternative networks that reduce dependence on the US-led system.
This circumvention policy is clearly evident in arenas that, at first glance, seem far from China. American dealings with Venezuela, for example, were characterized by unprecedented political and economic escalation. Crippling sanctions and attempts to isolate the regime were justified by fragile democratic rhetoric. But this behavior becomes more understandable when Venezuela is read as a primary source of Chinese oil, and a vital node in the energy network that Beijing is working to secure outside American control.
The same applies to Iran. The conflict does not stop at the nuclear file or regional behavior. Rather, it extends to Iran's position in the global energy equation, and its role in supplying China and its partners with oil. Here, American pressure becomes an attempt to reset the energy arteries that feed China's rise, not merely an endeavor to prevent nuclear proliferation.
Even the Palestinian situation, specifically the war on Gaza, and attempts to impose alternative political paths under names such as peace councils, cannot be separated from this context. The blatant American bias, and the marginalization of international law, reflect the logic of crisis management from a position of power, and the imposition of geopolitical realities in a region central to trade and energy, thereby limiting China's ability to expand its political and economic influence there.
However, this approach does not mean a permanent break with traditional American behavior. What we witnessed was closer to a phase of maximum pressure, aimed at modifying the rules of the game, before returning to a more disciplined facade in form. The United States has historically combined shock and repair, and roughness with the re-production of acceptance. What is imposed by force is not later abolished, but re-presented in more acceptable language.
Nevertheless, another possibility cannot be ignored. This roughness may not be an expression of excessive confidence, but of a structural anxiety about a Chinese rise that is difficult to contain. The American economy faces accumulated internal challenges, while China continues its quiet expansion, without direct provocation, and without giving Washington a clear pretext for confrontation.
In this framework, American behavior can be understood as an attempt to circumvent an adversary that avoids confrontation. But this circumvention is fraught with risks. The rougher the approach, the greater the incentives for China and other rising powers to build a system less dependent on the American center.
Therefore, reducing this phase to the person of Trump or his style remains a misleading simplification. The real question is whether the United States is capable of curbing China's rise by breaking the rules, or whether this approach will, paradoxically, accelerate the reshaping of the international system in a way that diminishes American influence itself. This question does not concern a specific phase, but touches the core of the ongoing struggle over the shape of the global order and the limits of power in an era of multipolarity.
