This article also appears in a collection of essays, Harris v Trump, written by Lowy Institute experts on the implications for Australia of the US presidential election.
The interests of the world’s democracies — including Australia — are served when the United States is well governed, cohesive, appealing, and strong. During the Trump presidency, America was poorly governed, divided, ugly, and weak.
There is no evidence that Donald Trump’s beliefs have altered over the past four years. Indeed, Trump 2.0 may be less restrained than Trump 1.0.
Alliance scepticism
In foreign policy, Australians’ instincts run counter to Trump’s impulses. Trump is sympathetic to isolationism; Australians are inclined towards internationalism. Trump swoons over autocrats and strongmen; Australia is an old democracy and a free society.
Trump is also an alliance sceptic, whereas Australians are alliance believers. Last time around, Trump treated allies not as friends but as freeloaders. He threw shade on the principle of collective defence; he handled carelessly intelligence that allies provided to Washington.
Trump’s plans to “make America great again” neglect a fundamental pillar of American greatness — its system of global alliances. Both China and Russia would dearly love to have alliance networks as powerful and cost-effective as that of the United States.
Questions on trade, China, and AUKUS
Canberra should brace for turbulence on the issues of trade, China, and AUKUS. Trump is hostile to free trade and has promised a 60 per cent tariff on all Chinese imports, a 100 per cent tariff on Chinese cars, and a 10 per cent tariff on all other imports to the United States. These tariffs and the retaliation they would provoke would be extremely damaging for a trading nation such as Australia.
It is hard to predict where Trump would take US relations with China.
It is hard to predict where Trump would take US relations with China. The Biden administration has maintained a stable relationship with China, despite Beijing’s bluster. Many are concerned that Trump would be overly combative. Just as concerning, however, is the possibility that Trump would be attracted to the idea of a grand bargain with China, perhaps trading away the security interests of the United States and its Indo-Pacific allies in return for trade concessions. After all, this is the man who fêted Xi Jinping at Mar-a-Lago with “the most beautiful piece of chocolate cake”.
We have heard second hand that Trump supports AUKUS. His running mate JD Vance told me at the Munich Security Conference in February that he is a “fan of AUKUS”, which has broad support among Republicans and on Capitol Hill. However, given Trump’s predilection for ripping up deals made by his predecessors, the situation is not without risk.
Australia’s playbook
For Australia, the personal relationships at the summit would be different this time.
During Trump’s last term in office, Australia was led by two Liberal prime ministers, Malcolm Turnbull and Scott Morrison. This time, Trump’s Australian counterpart would be a Labor prime minister, Anthony Albanese. It is hard to think of two leaders who are more different from each other — in terms of origins, personalities, and values — than Albanese and Trump.
If Opposition Leader Peter Dutton were elected prime minister in 2025, he may have an easier relationship with Trump. Certainly, Dutton’s worldview is more likely to be sympathetic to Trump’s. However, ideological compatibility is no guarantee of harmonious relations with such a mercurial figure. A number of conservative leaders, including Theresa May and Benjamin Netanyahu, got on Trump’s wrong side last time.
Critics, sympathisers, and pragmatists
I argued recently that during Trump’s term in office, allied leaders fell into three categories: critics, sympathisers, and pragmatists.
Angela Merkel was a prominent critic who never seemed comfortable with Trump and publicly contradicted him on refugees, tariffs, and other issues.
But picking a fight with the world’s most powerful person is not always smart. Allies rely on the United States, which has the capacity to project military power anywhere on Earth, to protect them from adversaries such as Russia and China and provide global leadership. Being at daggers drawn with Washington is rarely in an ally’s interest. Merkel’s poor relations with Trump, for example, contributed to his 2020 decision to withdraw 10,000 troops from Germany — a decision that Biden later reversed.
Sympathisers figure that they need to get close to Trump in order to influence him.
Scott Morrison was a sympathiser. He identified himself politically with Trump, even joining the president in Ohio in 2019 to address a crowd of Trump supporters. In May this year, during the criminal trial at which Trump was convicted on 34 felony counts, Morrison visited him at Trump Tower. “It was nice to catch up again, especially given the pile on he is currently dealing with in the US,” Morrison later posted on X. “Good to see you DJT and thanks for the invitation to stay in touch.”
Sympathisers figure that they need to get close to Trump in order to influence him. True, Trump’s administration was animated by egomania and narcissism, and Trump relishes flattery. Praise can lead to goodies such as investment, political support, and decorations. But being intimate with Trump is unlikely to be popular back home — or good for the soul.
Japan’s example
The pragmatists included former Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, who worked hard on his personal relationship with his fellow conservative Trump.
In November 2016, Abe was the first world leader to call on the president-elect at Trump Tower. Over the next four years, he had dozens of conversations with Trump in meetings, on the phone, and on the golf course. Abe was courteous and attentive without sacrificing his dignity or submerging himself in Trump’s political identity.
As a businessman, Trump was a fierce critic of Japanese trading practices and ran newspaper advertisements accusing Japan and other allies of “taking advantage of the United States” by failing to pay for Washington’s protection. But through his skilful dealings with Trump in office, Abe managed to soften that hostility. As president, Trump was well disposed to Japan and even signed off on a trade deal between Washington and Tokyo.
Malcolm Turnbull was also a pragmatist. When Trump threatened to walk away from an Obama-era deal between the United States and Australia on asylum seekers and to impose tariffs on Australian steel and aluminium imports, Turnbull argued him down. He did so mainly in private, however, resisting the temptation to talk down to Trump in public.
The Australian prime minister — whether it is Albanese or Dutton — may find the prospect of fraternising with Trump distasteful. But if this situation comes to pass, they will need to grimace and bear it. The alternatives — to turn away from the United States or hug Trump tight — are worse.
Australia would also need to work closely with other parts of the US system, including Congress, the agencies, and the military. Australia would need to continue to build up its own national capabilities and work with other allies and like-minded nations, especially in our region, to reinforce the liberal international order that Trump disparages.
As beneficiaries of that order, Australia may need to serve in its bodyguard.
