Nobel prize nominations, gushing tributes, and even a “daddy” moniker.
The Trump presidencies have changed diplomacy in many ways, especially in the personalisation of US foreign policy – but the obsequiousness displayed by many world leaders is perhaps the most unedifying.
In 2025 alone, Israel, Pakistan and the presidents of five African countries – Gabon, Guinea-Bissau, Liberia, Mauritania and Senegal – have all endorsed Trump for the Nobel Peace Prize.
Last month, NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte buttered up Trump as he flew into an historic summit in the Netherlands, texting him:
“Donald, you have driven us to a really, really important moment for America and Europe, and the world. You will achieve something NO American president in decades could get done… Europe is going to pay in a BIG way, as they should, and it will be your win.”
Rutte followed this up with what Susan Glasser called an act of “strategic self-emasculation”, describing Trump’s intervention in Iran-Israel tensions as “Daddy has to sometimes use strong language”.
The logic is that effusive praise costs very little in material terms, but it can generate disproportionately greater returns.
But as jarring as these words and deeds may be, they do have a clear purpose: appealing to Trump’s vanity and perpetual desire for validation to avoid his wrath or receive favourable treatment.
It’s worth making the best possible case, then, for obsequiousness as a diplomatic tactic.
The logic is that effusive praise costs very little in material terms, but it can generate disproportionately greater returns. Whatever embarrassment Rutte or others might personally feel from their comments, they would likely argue that words are cheap, that grovelling has utilitarian justifications, and that with the passage of time they will be judged favourably by their constituencies for doing what it takes to protect their interests.
Rutte said as much to The New York Times when pressed on his fawning approach to Trump:
“I was prime minister of the Netherlands for 14 years, so I know about criticism, but I don’t care. In the end, I need to do my job. I have to keep the whole of NATO together.”
Viewed in isolation, the results seemingly speak for themselves. Last month’s NATO summit has been hailed as a success with nearly all treaty members pledging to spend 5 per cent of GDP on defence and the United States now committing to sell more Patriot missiles to Ukraine with European funding. Israel, meanwhile, has only grown its influence in Washington and cemented US support for sustained pressure on Iran.
Taking the path of obsequiousness also appears lower risk given the recent experiences of leaders facing humiliating Oval Office encounters. South African president Cyril Ramaphosa was forced to defend his country’s record on violent crime. Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy fell into an ugly confrontation over his country’s gratitude for US assistance.
At the same time, leaders keeping a low profile and so far avoiding direct in-person with Trump, such as Australia’s Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, have faced criticism at home for neglecting the US relationship.
Zooming out from these individual interactions, however, the limitations of stroking Trump’s ego become clearer.
Obsequiousness can be a useful tactic in “one-shot games”, to borrow game theory parlance. If there is only one foreseeable interaction with Trump, a foreign leader should use every possible means (including exaggerated praise) to extract as much as possible from that transaction.
However, diplomacy is an ongoing series of interactions – “repeated games” – where the prior behaviour of a counterpart is a major consideration in each future negotiation.
The President and his envoys have sufficient self-awareness to see through endless empty compliments.
Arguably, personal affirmations to Trump from foreign leaders could predispose him to being more sympathetic to their countries in future negotiations. However, the more likely result is that aggressive, predatory negotiators such as Trump see these tactics as a mark of weakness and an opportunity for further exploitation.
Trump may be incredibly vain, but he’s not entirely stupid. The President and his envoys have sufficient self-awareness to see through endless empty compliments and recognise that those who resort to obsequiousness are negotiating from a point of vulnerability. Moreover, such extreme deference creates a hierarchical dynamic, inviting Trump to begin each further negotiation with unilateral demands.
Consider Rutte and NATO’s starting point in future negotiations with the US. Trump will expect submissiveness, forcing treaty members to pre-emptively offer even further accommodations to the United States.
Former Australian prime minister Malcolm Turnbull has argued that Trump – like any bully – is better met with steady resolve, even if that makes for tense conversations. He learnt this in pressing Trump early in his first term to honour an agreement struck by the Australian Government with the Obama administration:
“Standing up to Trump over the refugee deal has incurred his anger in the short term, but his respect in the long term. And that respect I won would be of immense value to Australia when the next big issue arose.”
Foreign leaders should heed this lesson. Pandering to Trump’s narcissism is not just an act of national debasement, it makes every future negotiation more difficult. Maintaining self-respect and upholding national dignity is more than a matter of principle. It also has practical, long-term consequences for diplomatic effectiveness.
