Trump must remember that words still carry weight
The words of a United States president matter. They can be the difference between war and peace. Of all the criticisms of the shortcomings of Barack Obama, perhaps none caused more damage to the power and prestige of the US than his offhand remark that the use of chemical weapons by Bashar Al Assad “would be a red line” that would make him “reconsider the calculus” of US engagement in Syria’s civil war.
Ever since, I’ve heard American allies in Asia and elsewhere reference Mr Obama’s red line comment to raise serious doubts about US credibility. Incredibly though, before he was even sworn in, president Donald Trump and his appointees have made “red line” comments that make Mr Obama’s pale in comparison. Mr Trump has said he would impose import tariffs on China, Mexico and other “unfair traders”. When North Korea declared it would test a ballistic missile, Mr Trump tweeted, “it won’t happen”. Will he launch a pre-emptive strike, risking war? On several occasions, Mr Trump has questioned whether the US would adhere to long- standing “One China” policy that is the foundation of US-China relations. His secretary of state, Rex Tillerson, said in his Senate confirmation hearings: “We’re going to have to send China a clear signal that, first, the island-building stops, and second, your access to those islands also is not going to be allowed.” When asked subsequently about a stance that would spark a military confrontation with China, a Trump spokesperson said Mr Tillerson “had not misspoken”.
There is a delicious irony here. The United States, the steward of a rules-based order it was instrumental in creating, would seek to undermine it. Mr Trump’s unilateral import tariffs of dubious compatibility with the World Trade Organisation would almost certainly spark a cycle of trade retaliation that could destabilise global markets. Mr Tillerson’s threat would all but assure military clashes between two nu- clear powers. In the latter case, the US would use naval power to enforce rules of a treaty (the United Nations Law of the Sea) it has refused to ratify to militarily intervene in a territorial dispute in which it has no claim.
Mr Trump’s heralding of unpredictability as a virtue is not entirely without merit. But these threats foreshadow an entire presidential tenure’s worth of either reckless policies or credibility-shattering empty bluster. This is remarkable for an administration that has barely begun to change the curtains in the Oval Office. Or do Mr Trump’s words simply reflect a style of exaggeration for effect, what senior White House adviser Kellyanne Conway calls “alternative facts”?
In Mr Trump’s case, his views seem to reflect his life experience: he thinks the world works like a real estate deal – everything is a zero-sum game.
The idea of trade based on comparative advantage has not occurred to him. The purpose of trade rules for Mr Trump is less to assure reciprocal market access than to win, eg have a trade surplus. Similarly, a “One China” policy is merely a bargaining chip in negotiating better trade deals with China.
Mr Tillerson’s remarks, suggesting a naval blockade of Beijing’s access to disputed reefs it controls, to be fair, reflected a growing, widespread US anger and frustration at China’s imperious maritime behaviour. But like Mr Trump’s threats on trade, Mr Tillerson’s comments also reflect a dangerously inflated sense of US leverage: it is not 1953 any more.
At the end of the day, for an incoming president of what is still the world’s most powerful nation Mr Trump’s behavious is an unintended demonstration of incredible hubris.
However successful Mr Trump may be at constructing a postfact mindset, reality has a way of intruding. It is difficult not to conclude that we are in for a year of living dangerously, with ill-considered economic and political-military acts likely to cause no small bit of damage before the Trump administration gets mugged by reality.