Why Trump’s America Is Rejecting Globalization

In November 2016 in the U.S., we might well see a face-off between an interventionist Democrat and an isolationist Republican for the first time since the 1940 presidential election, when Franklin D. Roosevelt triumphed over Republican Wendell Wilkie.

These two positions are both expressions of American nationalism and have appeared regularly from the birth of the republic to the U.S. entry into World War II. How should we interpret the resurgence of this isolationism in 2016? How can we explain how Donald Trump can be defined by some American commentators as a modern Jacksonian, named after Andrew Jackson, the seventh U.S. president, who held office from 1829 to 1837? It is a flattering comparison, and a deceptive one; Jackson was, first and foremost, a proud soldier. The business model Trump has created is simply a representation of himself, that of a successful CEO.

Being a populist is very fashionable in 2016; being a protectionist is still acceptable, even if it makes no sense from an economic viewpoint; but, being an isolationist when you aspire to become the president of the world’s leading superpower, which still has a number of unique international responsibilities, is that not something of a paradox — even if isolationism and interventionism are both expressions of nationalism?

But nationalism can take two forms. One involves putting up walls, the other, building bridges. It is clear Donald Trump is following the former tradition, and Hillary Clinton the latter. She who if elected would become the first female president in the history of the United States takes a completely “classic” approach to her relationship with the rest of the world. More spontaneously interventionist than Barack Obama, she takes the same line as her husband, or Ronald Reagan, a mix of humanist idealism and cold pragmatism. What is new and maybe even revolutionary about the 2016 election is the possibility that a character who is so deeply anachronistic in terms of strategic thinking could become the Republican Party candidate, despite, or rather thanks to, his outrageous remarks.

The main reason for this evolution is undoubtedly rooted in the relationship America has with globalization. In the last few years of the 20th century, it seemed the United States was the main beneficiary of globalization. This was true, objectively speaking. However, a significant number of American citizens no longer share this view and now consider themselves to be victims of globalization. In rallying around Trump’s isolationist and protectionist discourse, they feel they are protecting themselves from a process they no longer seem to be able to control. America may have begun to grow again, and it may have an unemployment rate that the majority of European countries could only dream of, but one statistical reality cancels all these out: More than 80 percent of Americans have not managed to regain the quality of life they enjoyed in 2007, before the financial and then economic crisis hit their country.

They are not just blaming their current political leaders, or combining economic frustrations and racist prejudices: “What could we expect from a black president?” They are blaming the rest of the world too. They blame the Chinese for engaging them in unfair competition, even though the cost of the Chinese workforce has risen considerably over the last few years. They blame Europeans, who do little or nothing to share the burden of security. And they blame Middle Eastern countries, which “thank” you for your help by essentially turning against you and almost openly financing terrorism.

There is, of course, some truth in these views. There are traces of Reagan in Trump’s proclamations about putting “America and Americans first.” But there is a mix of nationalism, an inward-looking attitude, populism and particularly narcissism (“the key to my campaign is me; my energy, my entrepreneurial know how”)* that smacks a little of former French President Nicolas Sarkozy. This is a new indication of changing emotions in the modern world.

At the beginning of the 1960s, John F. Kennedy encouraged Americans to ask what they could do for America. He was a “Berliner” who supported West Germany in the Cold War. He presented himself as the natural heir of the founding fathers, even though his Catholic faith and Irish origins clashed with this image. He represented America in a young, elegant, almost aristocratic form. Donald Trump is the absolute antithesis of both Barack Obama and JFK. Perceived from a purely rational point of view, Trump’s view of the world may appear totally contradictory, or even incoherent. However, while the United Kingdom lives in the shadow of a potential Brexit and the United States is in the shadow of Trump’s candidacy, the world is being confronted by a triumph of the most negative kinds of emotions. We can no longer ignore the risks inherent in the world’s number one military power rushing headlong toward deeply irrational behaviors.

Of course, the American public will — hopefully — end up constituting the greatest defense against Donald Trump. The vast majority of blacks, Hispanics and women will oppose him, not to mention the visceral rejection of his character and his opinions by the wealthy and educated classes. But we can no longer simply bat away his foreign policy visions. We have done so for far too long, and now we are paying the price. The time of intellectual, or even social, arrogance is over.

*Translator’s note: Although accurately translated, the exact quote could not be sourced.