Perhaps Trump, for all his chaos, was the rude awakening Brussels needed. Either way, the US keeps ruthlessly pursuing its own interests. Its foreign policy remains an extended Monroe Doctrine: no one meddles in American affairs, whereas America reserves the right to intervene anywhere it smells intrusion. In that calculus, the EU, through NATO, is a useful deputy. The red thread, however, was and remains the same: protecting the US. This is one of the few constants in American foreign policy: it won’t decouple from NATO, but it won’t foot the bill alone either. Trump’s strategy is less about leaving the alliance than bending it even more to US terms. Washington holds the nuclear umbrella, but it wants someone else to pay for the tanks. For Trump, NATO works best when it works for America.

China Policy

In 2017, Trump had launched the China trade war with tariffs, tech bans, and a flair for transactional drama. Biden quietly kept that pressure on, expanding on export controls and tightening alliances from ASML to AUKUS. Different tone, same strategy: contain China by any means short of open conflict.

The implications go beyond trade. This bipartisan China strategy is shaping a new world order—one of competitive multipolarity. Washington no longer assumes integration will tame China. Instead, it embraces rivalry as structural. Beijing, for its part, has responded by deepening BRICS cooperation, accelerating Belt and Road investments, and pushing for alternative financial systems: trading in yuan, building cross-border digital currency infrastructure, and questioning dollar dominance.

Whoever governs the US, the outcome has remained the same: a slow but deliberate decoupling of the world’s two largest economies. The liberal order once promised by globalisation is giving way to bloc politics. The era of convergence is over and, once the motion starts, Biden, Trump and the next US president will have to have followed the same flow.

Migration and Culture Wars

Over the past decade, the US has seen a record-breaking surge in pressure at its southern border. During his first term, Trump presided over roughly 3 million migrant encounters; under Biden, that number more than tripled, reaching 10.8 million by 2024. Yet, behind the headlines, the deportation machine stayed steady; 30,555 monthly under Biden, nearly matching Trump’s 31,250. In his second term, Trump’s start has been slower than Biden’s: during his first month, he oversaw 37,660 deportations; including removals and returns. By contrast, Biden averaged 57,000 deportations per month in 2024, significantly outpacing his predecessor. The message then remains unchanged: assimilate or leave. Immigration may stir rhetoric, but American integrative doctrine still speaks fluent continuity.

On the cultural side, the story is no less symmetrical. Where Trump polarised with purpose, Biden tried to harmonise. And for all results: no side securing more than a momentary win.

By 2024, 63% of Americans saw their state’s culture laws as ‘politically extreme'—evidence that the real culture war now plays out locally rather than federally. The cultural pendulum in American politics swings with rather predictable rhythm; periods of progressive zeal are followed by conservative backlash. The early 2020s saw the rise of "wokeism," championing social justice. However, by 2024, public sentiment had begun to shift. Polling indicated that attempts to associate President Biden with "woke" policies were losing traction. This shift reflects a broader fatigue with culture wars, as voters increasingly prioritise economic and pragmatic concerns over ideological battles.​ Over 70% of voters—including 69% of Republicans—say politicians should focus less on “woke” issues and more on the economy and inflation. Wokeism seems to approach its demise as pragmatism comes back.

In this context, President Trump's stance can be seen less as a radical departure from the prevailing political mood and more as aligning with it. His agenda resonates with a public increasingly disenchanted with social justice policies, confirming that America’s cultural landscape is less actively shaped by presidents than it is by the deeper tides of its civilisation. Trump and Biden may have offered contrasting meta-political visions—one rooted in reaction, the other in reform—but both have been swept along by the same underlying currents. Throughout the decades, the American project has tended to always circle back to the same, essential themes: protection, health, security, military. Leadership may change the tempo, but not the fundamental tune. In this dance, voters and presidents move together, not always in harmony, but always on the same stage.

Statement

Trump and Biden may have dressed differently, but they have walked similar policy paths. On immigration and culture, rhetoric diverges while enforcement aligns. Trump roars, Biden reassured, yet both have managed a restless border and deported at scale, both have navigated a polarised cultural landscape with more symbolism than structural change. If politics is performance, then America’s stage remains rather fixed. What shifts is the lighting, not the script. Continuity is cloaked in contrast.