Australia did relatively well last time around. After a tumultuous start with Malcolm Turnbull over a “dumb deal” refugee swap that ran contrary to all Trump’s political instincts, Australia was exempted from Trump’s tariffs on steel and aluminium and Trump subsequently hosted Scott Morrison for a state dinner equivalent. Meanwhile, Australian officials cooperated closely with their US counterparts on issues that Trump knew or cared little about, including Washington’s Indo-Pacific Strategy.
But Trump’s second term will be different. He is more influential in the Republican party, which, in turn, has majorities in both houses of Congress. Trump can also assume a sympathetic Supreme Court, to which he appointed three judges. More importantly, his rapid nomination of committed MAGA loyalists to key positions shows that he is better prepared and more determined to radically remake America and, by extension, the world.
Canberra will try to maintain cooperation with Washington on foreign policy, especially towards China. But as Georgetown University’s Evan Medeiros has persuasively argued, “the range of possible outcomes for US-China relations [in Trump’s second presidency is [now] wider than ever before. There are credible scenarios for both a big deal … or a big fall.” Trump could abandon allies and cut a bilateral deal with China or blunder into a conflict. In between those two extremes is the scenario that Australia most wants but seems least likely: a set of US policies that would constrain China, balancing its military and economic power without unnecessarily restricting trade and investment.
Trump’s election win confirms that the United States is no longer a key constant in Australia’s international environment but has become the main variable.
Trump’s domestic policies will be even more challenging and Australia can’t neatly isolate them from the bilateral relationship. Trump is focussed on dismantling the “deep state” that he thinks constrained him in government and persecuted him when he was out. But his politicisation of the Pentagon, the Department of Justice, the FBI and other intelligence agencies will necessarily impinge on the close networks of Australia-US cooperation that were least affected during his first term.
It's not hard to imagine a situation in which Trump seeks help from Canberra in pursuing revenge. In 2019 he infamously demanded that Ukraine investigate Hunter Biden in return for aid. Trump also called Morrison seeking information related to what he called the “witch hunt” investigation into claims of possible collusion between the Trump campaign and Russia, following revelations about Australia’s then High Commissioner to London Alexander Downer passing tips to the US embassy in London.
Trump’s win will also embolden ideologues determined to export the MAGA revolution. Richard Grenell, who will likely play a senior role in the next Trump presidency, began his ambassadorship to Germany back in 2018 by declaring his intent to empower European conservatives. Social media has periodically focussed MAGA wrath on Australian domestic policies, from gun control to Covid-19. And Elon Musk’s ascendancy increases the likelihood that Canberra’s efforts to control Australia’s information environment and curb the power of social media will put it at loggerheads with Washington.
There is no guidebook for the many complex challenges that Trump 2.0 will pose for Australia. The lessons from Trump 1.0 are of limited relevance and offer little clarity. Former ambassador to Washington Joe Hockey often advocated a more accommodating approach, whereas Turnbull insists that “the only way to win the respect of people such as Trump is to stand up to them”.
Canberra’s instinct will be, as former official Richard Maude argued in March, to “manage through” pragmatically – to pick fights carefully, to be tough in private when needed while disagreeing politely in public, to build support for Australia in the administration, Congress and big business, and to work around Trump wherever possible.”
But Canberra must also be clear with itself about its red lines. The health of Australian democracy depends, at least in part, on the health of liberal democracy globally. Maude advocates “protecting the alliance but not normalising what Trump represents”. The risk is that “managing through” can incrementally blur such distinctions.
The best way to minimise the danger is to ensure objective assessment and rigorous decision making. Canberra should recognise that decades of alliance and close personal relationships foster cognitive biases – including blind spots and wishful thinking – when it comes to thinking about the United States. And it should actively counter them.
Trump’s election win confirms that the United States is no longer a key constant in Australia’s international environment but has become the main variable. Decision makers need not catastrophise. But they should simulate scenarios that were previously hard to imagine in order to prepare for inevitable future crises, identify trade-offs, and decide in advance what Australia is prepared to do and why.
