TOI correspondent from Washington: For nearly a decade, US President and MAGA supremo Donald Trump has shaped his political identity around a simple, powerful pledge: to end “America’s endless wars.”
He derided the foreign policy establishment as reckless interventionism and insisted that only he could resist the military-industrial complex.
“I’m the most militaristic person, but I don’t want to use that,” he often said, describing himself as a “peace president.”But heading into 2026, Trump’s second term tells a very different story — one marked by aggressive interventions in Venezuela and now Iran, open threats against Greenland, Mexico, and Canada, and a worldview that combines red-blooded nationalism with high-stakes brinkmanship.
Iran strikes US forces; At least 3 American soldiers were killed and 5 others were seriously injured in the escalation
The most dramatic rift with Trump’s previous stance as a pacifist came in January, when US forces launched a lightning operation in Venezuela that culminated in the arrest of its president, Nicolas Maduro, and his wife, Celia Flores. The raid – which the White House described as a “counter-drug mission” – effectively beheaded the government in Caracas. But that was “small beer” compared to what happened in Iran, where he eviscerated the country’s supreme leader.
Trump framed the action in Venezuela as law enforcement. “We are eliminating drug terrorists who threaten American communities,” he said, adding that the United States would oversee a “stable transition.” Critics, including many Democrats on Capitol Hill, have called regime change by another name.Behind the anti-drug logic lie broader geopolitical calculations. Maduro’s government has deepened ties with Moscow and Beijing, providing each with a strategic foothold in the Western Hemisphere.
The operation, which critics described as part of the “Donroe Doctrine” — a condensed reinterpretation of the Monroe Doctrine — signaled that Trump saw the Americas as a sphere where U.S. dominance would be imposed, if necessary, by force.This resoluteness extended north. Trump revived his old ambition to “take over” Greenland from Denmark, and at one point suggested military options if negotiations stalled.
“We will do something about Greenland whether they like it or not,” he said in January, before softening his tone in Davos amid a NATO backlash. This incident shook European allies and highlighted a foreign policy that treats the lands as sovereign territory as much as strategic real estate.Nowhere is the contradiction between Trump’s rhetoric and his actions more evident than in Iran. In June 2025, after “Operation Midnight Hammer,” Trump declared that US strikes had “completely and completely eliminated” Tehran’s nuclear capabilities.
“They will never have a nuclear weapon,” he said triumphantly, presenting the mission as a decisive end to the threat.But eight months later, he authorized “Operation Epic Fury,” a sweeping joint offensive with Israel targeting nuclear and missile facilities and senior regime figures. In a televised speech, Trump offered a very different assessment. He added, “The regime has continued to develop its nuclear program and plans to develop missiles to reach American territory.”
“We will ensure that Iran does not obtain a nuclear weapon… This regime will soon learn that no one should challenge the power of the American armed forces.
“This juxtaposition is jarring: a president who claimed to have eliminated the threat now cites his “imminent” return as justification for more war. US intelligence assessments last year indicated that Iran was not actively seeking a nuclear weapon, raising questions about the severity of the threat.
Administration officials say Tehran tried to rebuild its capabilities after the 2025 strikes, necessitating a renewal of the force.
For Trump, the distinction may be less about technical intelligence judgments and more about a show of force. Within its framework, peace is not achieved through negotiated balance, but rather through overwhelming domination.At the forefront of these actions is Trump’s long-term preoccupation with the Nobel Peace Prize.
He has repeatedly claimed that diplomatic efforts such as the Abraham Accords deserve recognition and has publicly expressed his regret that “Norway foolishly chose not to give me the award.” He has repeatedly claimed to have “ended eight wars” and saved “tens of millions of lives,” suggesting that his critics ignore the stabilizing effects of his insistence.
In his letters to Norwegian officials, he implied that perceived insults reduced his incentive to “think purely about peace.”The irony is unmistakable. Trump equates peace with surrender, that is, conflicts that end through coercion or decisive force. By this logic, escalating crises to the breaking point and then imposing outcomes can be seen as a peacemaking process. The result is a presidency that is both isolationist and interventionist. Trump remains skeptical of multilateral institutions, has reduced foreign aid, and demands that allies shoulder more of the burden.
However, he has demonstrated his willingness to deploy American power unilaterally in pursuit of strategic influence. Proponents believe that decisive leadership works to restore deterrence. Critics see the erosion of alliances and a pattern of regime change processes that were once denounced as folly.The central paradox remains: the leader who rose to prominence condemning foreign entanglements now presides over an era of increasing military engagements. In Trump’s evolving doctrine, the slogan “America First” does not mean withdrawal from the world. He means reshaping it – by force if necessary – while insisting that the ultimate goal is peace, and perhaps the medal he might pin on himself to prove it.