When Donald Trump first became US president eight years ago he was dismissed as an aberration. Rather than the dawn of a new political age, his presidency was regarded as a passing frenzy.
Many liberals felt vindicated by Mr Trump’s subsequent election defeat in 2020. But the forces he had unleashed endured. By transforming the Republican Party into the Maga Party, Mr Trump vanquished his internal opponents. By building a broad political coalition – spanning working-class, black and Hispanic voters – he then routed his external ones.
With control of all three branches of government, Mr Trump ranks as one of the most powerful US presidents in history. Even before his inauguration on 20 January, his victory was reshaping global and economic affairs.
A ceasefire was finally agreed in Gaza after Mr Trump warned that “all hell will break loose” if Israeli hostages were not released by Hamas, and exerted pressure on Israel’s government. Ukraine’s Volodymyr Zelensky indicated that he is open to peace talks with Russia. In an ideological sea change, tech barons who previously banned Mr Trump from their platforms – such as Meta’s Mark Zuckerberg – paid fealty to him (the former UK deputy prime minister and latterly Meta executive Nick Clegg resigned his post in advance).
For Keir Starmer’s young Labour government, Mr Trump’s return is a grave challenge. While the Prime Minister hailed the US president’s “long-standing affection and historical ties” to the UK, the differences between the two leaders are marked.
Mr Starmer made his name in the idealistic 1990s as a human rights lawyer; Mr Trump is disdainful of the very concept. At last year’s Cop conference, Mr Starmer declared that he was restoring Britain as a “climate leader on the world stage”. One of Mr Trump’s first acts in office was to withdraw the US from the Paris Climate Agreement.
It was a “progressive moment” that Mr Starmer yearned for, hoping that Labour’s election would be followed by another Democratic victory. Yet the Prime Minister has no choice but to seek warm relations with Mr Trump.
Labour has upheld the UK’s traditional security model, of which Nato, the nuclear deterrent (reliant on US technology) and the Five Eyes intelligence alliance are cornerstones. It has ruled out rejoining the single market and customs union – placing hard limits on its European reset. And while courting China, the government dismisses talk of a new “golden age” (Chancellor Rachel Reeves’ recent trip resulted in deals worth just £600m over five years).
At a time of fragile economic growth, the UK cannot afford the costs that US tariffs would impose. “Instead of taxing our citizens to enrich other countries, we will tariff and tax foreign countries to enrich our citizens,” vowed Mr Trump. If the UK is to be spared punishment, it will need to convince the US president that he is getting what he craves – a good deal.
This will necessitate higher defence spending. Earlier this month, Mr Trump declared that Nato members should spend at least 5 per cent of GDP. That was outlandish: the US itself currently spends 3.5 per cent of GDP, compared with the UK’s 2.3 per cent. But to earn Mr Trump’s respect, the UK will need to devote billions more to defence. In a new age of great-power conflict, there has long been a case for higher military spending – and Labour must be prepared to abandon its caution on tax to fund it.
For now, Mr Trump reigns supreme – wreaking vengeance on his opponents through a blizzard of executive orders. But his rhetoric will soon collide with reality. In his inauguration speech he raged against inflation but championed inflation-generating tariffs and tax cuts. Though stock markets may surge, ordinary workers risk being squeezed.
Should Mr Trump prove a president for the rich, his rhetoric will be exposed as hollow. But to take the political advantage, as the philosopher Michael Sandel argues this week, progressives will need a “political vision that combines populism and patriotism”.
This means the Democrats truly grappling with their defeat and the excesses of economic and cultural liberalism. Until they do, Mr Trump and his ideological allies have every reason to believe they can keep winning.
[See also: The strange death of the centre right]
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This article appears in the 22 Jan 2025 issue of the New Statesman, Messiah Complex