On his first day in office, he issued a warning to the world.
"Nothing can stop us," said U.S. President Donald Trump in his inaugural speech, which was met with thunderous applause. That was a cold winter day in Washington a year ago, marking the beginning of his second term.
Did the world not give it enough attention at the time?
His speech contained a reference to the 19th-century doctrine of "manifest destiny" — the idea that the United States was divinely destined to expand its territory across the continent and spread American ideals.
At that moment, the Panama Canal became his target. Trump declared, "We are going to take it back."
And now, similarly firm statements point toward Greenland.
"We must have it" has become the new slogan. It is a startling warning at a time of immense risk.
American history is filled with far-reaching, controversial invasions, occupations, and secret operations aimed at overthrowing rulers and regimes. Yet, in the past century, no U.S. president has ever threatened to seize the territory of a long-standing ally and rule it against the will of its people.
No American leader has so crudely broken political norms and threatened the long-standing alliance system that has supported global order since World War II.
There is no doubt that old rules are being trampled without consequences.
Today, Trump is described as possibly the most "transformative" president in American history — hailed by supporters at home and abroad, yet causing vigilance and anxiety among governments around the world, while Moscow and Beijing maintain a cautious silence.
French President Emmanuel Macron delivered a stern warning on the stage at the Davos Economic Forum, though not directly targeting Trump, but clearly implying: "This is heading toward a world without rules — international law is trampled, and the only law that seems to matter is the law of powerful empires."
As worries over painful trade wars increase, some even begin to fear that if the worst-case scenario occurs — when the U.S. president attempts to seize Greenland by force — the 76-year-old NATO military alliance may face risks.
Trump's supporters more firmly defend his "America First" policy, opposing the multilateral international order established after World War II.
When BBC asked Republican U.S. Congressman Randy Fine whether seizing Greenland would violate the UN Charter, he replied, "I think the United Nations has completely failed in promoting world peace, and frankly, doing the opposite might be correct regardless of what they think."
Fine introduced a bill titled the "Greenland Annexation and Statehood Act" last week in Congress.
When it seems nothing can stop Trump's steps, how should America's anxious allies respond?
In the past year filled with distortion and adjustment in foreign affairs, countless different terms have been used to find the most effective way to deal with this unpredictable president and supreme commander of the armed forces.
"We must take him seriously, but not literally." This is the argument often voiced by those who believe all problems can be solved through dialogue.
This approach worked only in forming a common stance with Europe to deal with Russia's fierce invasion of Ukraine.
Trump's positions often fluctuate: one week close to Russia, the next week leaning towards Ukraine, then suddenly aligning again with Russia.
"He's a real estate tycoon," those who explain Trump's extreme positions as just negotiation strategies stemming from his background in New York real estate say.
His repeated military threats against Iran also carry the same flavor — although it is clear that military options remain on his already crowded decision-making table.
"He doesn't speak like a traditional politician," explained his top diplomat, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, when facing questions about Trump's strategy. "He says what he means." This is the highest praise given by Rubio to the president, and he then proceeded to denigrate the "poor record" of previous presidents.
Rubio is one of the main voices trying to downplay Trump's threatening remarks about Greenland, emphasizing that Trump wants to "buy" rather than invade this strategically important icy island.
He pointed out that to counter threats from countries like Russia, Trump had been researching the option of buying the world's largest island since his first term.
But there is no denying Trump's bullying methods, his disdain for collective action, and his belief in the "might makes right" ideology.
The editor-in-chief of The Economist magazine, Zanny Minton Beddoes, described him as "a person filled with transactional thinking and naked violence and mafia-style power."
"He doesn't see the value of alliances, nor does he consider the United States as an idea or value system; he doesn't care about these at all."
And he makes no effort to hide it.
Earlier this month, in an interview with The New York Times, Trump said, "NATO doesn't scare Russia or China at all, not even a little bit. What really scares them is us."
If security is the issue, the U.S. already has garrisons in Greenland, and according to a 1951 agreement, the U.S. can send more troops and establish more bases.
But Trump's statement is straightforward: "I want to own it."
He also frequently states clearly: "I like winning." Increasing evidence shows that things are as simple as that.
His policies have been turning back and forth in the past year, leaving people confused.
Last May, in Riyadh, the capital of Saudi Arabia, we witnessed his major speech during his first trip in his second term, which received enthusiastic responses.
Trump targeted America's "interventionists," condemning them for "destroying more countries than they built ... in complex societies they don't really understand."
In June, when Israel attacked Iran, it was reported that Trump warned Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu not to use military threats to jeopardize his diplomatic efforts.
But by that weekend, after seeing Israel successfully assassinate several high-ranking Iranian nuclear scientists and security officials, Trump exclaimed, "I think that's great."
"Sane-washing" is a term created by Edward Luce of The Financial Times several months ago, used to describe how the world has politely packaged Trump, with world leaders bringing "glittering gifts and golden praises" to visit him, trying to get him on their side.
Luce wrote in his latest column: "Trump's defenders — a group larger than true believers — have been working non-stop to make his policies seem reasonable."
Last October, this was fully demonstrated. World leaders were summoned to Sharm El-Sheikh, a Red Sea resort in Egypt, to attend his grand announcement of the "three thousand years later, we finally arrive at Middle East peace" celebration.
His peace plan's first phase led to the urgently needed ceasefire in Gaza, and the emergency release of Israeli hostages.
It was Trump's strong diplomacy that forced Netanyahu and Hamas to agree to the ceasefire. This was seen as a major breakthrough only Trump could achieve.
Unfortunately, it wasn't the dawn of peace. At that time, no one spoke the unspoken subtext.
Last year, Trump's approach was framed as "manifest destiny"; this year, with the invasion of Venezuela, his policies were rebranded as an updated version of the early 19th-century Monroe Doctrine — the "Donroe Doctrine."
Trump now fully embraces this idea and, with the support of his enthusiastic followers, continues to strengthen his belief: the United States can act freely in its backyard — and even further — to protect American interests.
Sometimes he is called an "isolationist," sometimes an "interventionist." But always, there is a slogan that brings him back to the White House: "Make America Great Again."
His letter to Norwegian Prime Minister Jonas Gahr Støre highlights his strong dissatisfaction with not receiving the Nobel Peace Prize this year.
In the letter, Trump wrote, "I no longer feel obligated to focus solely on peace, although that will still be a major consideration, but I can now also consider what is good and right for the United States."
When I asked him about this moment, Norwegian Foreign Minister Espen Barth Eide cautiously responded, "It's a good time to keep the Nordic temperament."
Norway has shown a calm and firm attitude in defending Greenland, Denmark, and collective security in the Arctic.
Europe's response remains sliding on this slippery political ice surface.
Macron vowed to launch the EU's "trade rocket launcher" to counter tariffs and limit U.S. access to the profitable EU market.
Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni — one of Trump's closest allies in Europe — vaguely mentioned it was a "problem of understanding and communication."
UK Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer strongly and publicly defended Greenland's territorial integrity, but to maintain the strong personal relationship he has built with Trump over the past year, he hopes to avoid retaliatory tariffs.
Trump has "taken off his gloves" and begun to act aggressively, publicly posting messages sent to him in private by world leaders — those leaders still try to keep him friendly through traditional diplomacy.
The French president told him, "Let's have dinner in Paris on Thursday before you return to the United States." While praising other diplomatic achievements of Trump, he didn't hesitate to raise questions: "I don't understand what you're doing about the Greenland issue."
NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte wrote, "Can't wait to meet you." Rutte once jokedly called him "old man" during the 12-day war between Iran and Israel last year due to Trump's strong hand.
Rutte and other officials attribute the recent significant increases in defense spending by NATO countries to Trump's direct threats.
These can be traced back to his warnings during his first term, which pushed U.S. presidents to call for, and NATO itself gradually began to acknowledge under the threat of Russia.
Across the Atlantic, a country long living under the huge shadow of the United States is trying to find another path forward — despite numerous obstacles.
Last week, Canadian Prime Minister Trudeau visited China and was candid, saying, "We must accept the current state of the world, not what we hope it to be."
This was the first visit by a Canadian leader to Beijing since 2017 — after years of tense confrontation, this trip clearly conveyed a signal about this rapidly changing world.
This week, Trump again made shocking threats on social media, hinting at annexing his northern neighbor. He posted a map of the Americas, including Canada and Greenland, all covered by the American flag.
Canadians are well aware that they could still be the next target.
Former central bank governor Carney rose to the highest position in Canada precisely because Canadians believed he was the best person to face Trump head-on.
He immediately adopted a "tit-for-tat" countermeasure, imposing retaliatory tariffs. For Canada's smaller economy, which relies on the southern neighbor for over 70% of its trade, this was too painful.
Tuesday at the Davos stage, Carney also focused on this turbulent moment.
"The American hegemony once provided global public welfare, including open sea lanes, stable financial systems, collective security, and frameworks for dispute resolution," he stated bluntly, "we are now in 'a break,' not a transition."
Wednesday, Trump will also deliver a speech on the same stage, and the world is watching.
The New York Times asked him this month what could stop him, and he answered, "My own morality. My own thoughts. Only they can stop me."
That is why now, an entire fleet of allies is trying to persuade, flatter, and even pressure him — to change his mind.
But this time, whether they succeed is uncertain.
Source: BBC
Original: toutiao.com/article/7598620547517268530/
Statement: The article represents the views of the author.