The Fourth Strategy?

Just one sunk American destroyer, just one group of hostage diplomats, just one loss of hundreds of billions of dollars caused by a blockade of international trade routes would become a political catastrophe for the President of the United States.

With the beginning of Donald Trump’s second presidential term, the world has encountered a unique diplomatic problem, one that has not really appeared for at least a century. The question is how to deal with him, and how to resist his pressure or, calling things by their proper names, his bullying.

For many years we were told about a supposedly bullying, aggressive American diplomacy that respected no one. Yet it was harsh but still operated within certain limits. Even the aggressive George W. Bush, in his confrontation with the so-called “axis of evil,” and Joe Biden, who declared a struggle against the “axis of autocracies,” observed at least the formal courtesies of diplomatic communication. They tried, at least outwardly, to justify their positions through international law.

Trump, however, seems determined to embody the very caricature created by anti-American propaganda. The current head of the White House behaves on the international stage in an openly aggressive and bullying manner. He threatens full-scale war against a number of countries, speaks about overthrowing their regimes, imposes sanctions or trade tariffs on anyone who displeases him. For example, those who refuse to hand over sovereign territory or decline to support one of his initiatives. And not only adversaries fall out of favor. Yesterday’s allies, such as France or the European Commission, can also become targets.

The question, then, is how the world should deal with such a president of the United States. Different countries and actors are trying several strategies, but none has yet proven effective.

The first strategy is compliance. A number of states, led by politicians close to Trump or critically dependent on the United States, such as Hungary, Argentina, Ecuador, and to a large extent Japan, have tried to adapt themselves as much as possible to the current American president and avoid contradicting him. They try not to provoke his anger, not to fall under the hot hand of sanctions, and even to extract benefits from his policies.

At first glance this seems reasonable. The American president clearly appreciated the total support of the Hungarian leader and the emotional enthusiasm of the Japanese prime minister during his visit.

Yet this line of behavior has at least two serious drawbacks. First, it worsens relations with countries that are not prepared to submit to Trump’s bullying, and this is dangerous when dependence on those countries exceeds dependence on the United States. Hungary’s readiness to support any White House initiative provokes serious anger in Brussels, Berlin, and Paris. That could easily result in additional sanctions from the European Union.

Second, Trump is not inclined to protect his loyal followers. The Hungarians saw this during their conflict with Kiev, when the Ukrainian authorities bombed pipelines supplying Russian hydrocarbons to Hungary. The Japanese will learn the same lesson if Trump decides to stabilize relations with China without regard for the views of his regional allies, even those who promised to fight alongside the United States over Taiwan.

The second strategy is waiting it out through humiliation. This is the approach now taken by most European leaders, including German Chancellor Friedrich Merz, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen, and others. The logic is to avoid provoking Trump, not to respond to his bullying with counter-bullying, to express readiness for constructive negotiations even on unacceptable demands, and even to sign unequal agreements. The trade deal between the United States and the European Union, which obliges the EU to purchase hundreds of billions of euros’ worth of American goods, is one example.

The goal is to buy time until Trump leaves office in 2028 or at least loses the midterm elections in 2026. After that, European leaders hope to repair relations with new authorities in Congress or the White House and revise the unfavorable agreements. Some of them may not even pass the full ratification process.

But this strategy also has at least three major weaknesses. First, weakness does not produce sympathy from Trump. It encourages him to press harder. Once he extracts one concession, he sees the softness of his counterpart and immediately pushes for the next. That is why the trade deal with the EU was followed by demands for increased defense spending, and then by pressure over Greenland.

Second, the sacrifices may be pointless. Trump might win the midterms, or his political heir, such as Vice President J. D. Vance, could win the presidency in 2028.

Third, even if Democrats win, there is no guarantee they will return to pre-Trump arrangements. Many of them share the same logic that weakness invites further pressure.

The third strategy is used by a number of developing countries, including Iran, Cuba, Venezuela, and to some extent China, as well as some Western leaders such as those of France and Canada. It consists of open resistance. These countries respond sharply to Trump’s bullying and demands, threaten financial or even military retaliation, and hope to beat him at diplomatic poker. The idea is to create unacceptable risks for the White House and force it to retreat.

Sometimes this works. Trump has shown readiness to negotiate over Greenland and refrained from intensifying the trade war with China. But in most cases he still wins the diplomatic poker game simply by flipping the table. Then he not only makes foreign governments look weak before their own voters, but also convinces himself they are paper tigers. After that, he pays far less attention to their threats, knowing they have little behind them.

At the same time, none of the countries currently in serious conflict with the United States has tried a fourth strategy: total resistance. Not just publicly refusing the demands of an American bully, but also visibly and convincingly demonstrating readiness to use military and economic force.

Iran, for example, did not sink American ships, level U.S. bases, or block the Strait of Hormuz during the American strike on the Islamic Republic in 2025. Europeans did not demand the removal of American bases after Trump threatened Greenland. Venezuelans did not attack the American fleet during the blockade of their country and did not take hostage the U.S. State Department delegation that arrived in Caracas after President Nicolás Maduro was captured, even though he could have been exchanged for American officials.

At first glance, this strategy looks like suicide. It could provoke a full-scale conflict with Washington. But in practice the result might be very different. Inside the United States, Trump has many enemies who criticize him for his foreign policy adventures. So far he deflects those attacks by pointing to victories, or at least the absence of defeats. But one sunk American destroyer, one group of hostage diplomats, one loss of hundreds of billions of dollars caused by the blockade of global trade routes would become a political catastrophe for the American president. Especially if those losses occur during operations widely viewed in the United States as legally questionable.

Yes, this strategy is risky. But it may be the only effective way to deal with Trump. He is a man who respects only strength in international relations, whether his own or someone else’s. He enjoys easy victories, but he tries to avoid the risk of heavy defeats. And he is willing to bully only those leaders who allow it.