Wednesday 9 November 2016: a misty, drizzly day in Washington DC, an overwhelmingly Democrat city in trauma after the shock victory of Donald Trump in the election the previous day. A Washington rarity, a declared Trump supporter, was among a group of guests for lunch in the residence that day. I took him aside and asked whether Trump would be as radical and disruptive as the giants of American political journalism were predicting. “Not at all,” he said: “I know the guy. All that red meat was just for the campaign. I expect him to govern as a mainstream Republican.”
Fast forward to London, Wednesday 6 November 2024. I’m speaking at a business dinner about the election outcome and what will come next. I mention Trump’s commitment to levy 20% tariffs on all imports into America. One participant says he has just spoken to a friend in Arizona who knows Trump personally. This friend has said: “It’s not about instant action. Trump will use the tariffs as a threat, to persuade countries to act to get trade flows into balance.” Another participant says: “Trump has won his second term now. So he doesn’t need to fight any more. Surely he’ll calm down and focus on his legacy?”
There are a hundred questions to ask about this election. Why were the polls so wrong, again? Why was Joe Biden ever allowed to run, and wreck the field for others, when he was so transparently past it? Why did Kamala Harris do so catastrophically badly among Hispanic and African-American men: is it really just because she is a woman? And what does it say about western democracies that the most important election of all has been won by a man for whom the truth is a distant land, seldom visited? But the most immediate question for the UK is – how should the government prepare for Trump 2.0?
Trump is profoundly unpredictable. He thrives in, indeed deliberately creates, chaos and disorder. It is impossible to be sure about how he will behave, what tone he will strike, when back in the Oval Office. But those predictions around that London dinner table of a new, mellow Trump backing away from his campaign rhetoric strike me as a triumph of hope over experience: the lesson of his first term is that he mostly does what he says he is going to do.
The British government has made an intelligent start, thanks in part to some brilliant work by the Washington embassy: the phone call after the assassination attempt, the dinner in Trump Tower. But Trump expects people to pay court to him; rewards don’t generally follow. So the groundwork, though necessary, guarantees nothing. Challenging times lie ahead, especially on climate change, tariffs and Ukraine.
On climate change, Trump will take America out of the Paris deal, and step up exploitation of oil and gas. The world is already disastrously behind the curve on reaching net zero by 2050: US withdrawal from Paris will make this worse. Though it won’t undo all the damage, the partial remedy here is to work with individual US states, notably environmentally aware California.
On tariffs I expect the exact opposite of a mere threat. I think Trump will impose tariffs on all US imports immediately and say: “If you want them lifted, offer me something to rebalance trade”. The EU will almost certainly retaliate; and the UK will face a difficult decision. Do we match EU retaliatory tariffs? Or do we seek a bilateral deal, like a free trade agreement? I think an FTA would be on offer from Trump, as in 2017: but the top US demand, as was the case then, would be unrestricted access to the UK market for the low-cost products of the US agricultural sector, hormone-treated beef and chlorine-washed chicken included. So the stark choice would be: side with the EU or sacrifice our agriculture?
On Ukraine, to the extent there is a Trump plan, it seems to involve a ceasefire, creation of a demilitarised zone between the two frontlines, and the opening of negotiations on a permanent peace deal. But JD Vance has suggested that Russia might keep the territory it has captured, and Ukraine might have to promise never to join Nato. In short, it would look like a defeat. I cannot see Zelensky accepting it, and I would expect him to appeal to Europe to backfill for American weapons subsequently denied. So another difficult decision for the prime minister: try to rally Europe to reject US ideas and increase support for Ukraine, or pack up our tents, accept defeat and go home?
Three points leap out of this bleak analysis. First, the Democratic party is continuing to misread the American electorate. The biggest issue in this election was always going to be “the economy, stupid”, after the ravages of inflation over the past four years. Yet they never had a coherent, convincing plan, and Harris was never able to escape from the shadow of the Biden record. Instead they led with issues like reproductive rights, seemingly oblivious to the damage this was doing to their standing in the once-loyally Democratic but also socially conservative Hispanic community, which in the event went massively for Trump: 14 points up on his 2020 result. There are lessons here for centrist parties across Europe: focus on the concerns of the broad mass of the electorate, not the issues that energise your base: in short, stop talking to yourself.
Second, we are likely to shortly face some pivotal decisions about whether we side with Europe or an isolationist and protectionist US. And on these two issues our beliefs and values point towards Europe. In this context, the government’s painfully slow and minimalist approach towards the UK/EU reset isn’t good enough. We need the UK/EU security pact soon, so that we have the structures and processes in place with which to manage the issues coming down the road. And we need stronger bilateral partnerships with France and Germany, notwithstanding the current political mess in the latter.
And third, the government needs to brace itself for the inevitable storms ahead. Back in November 2017, out of a clear blue Washington sky, Trump retweeted some Islamophobic videos by a far-right group called Britain First, ambushing Theresa May on an African tour. Pressed by the British media to comment, she said that the president “had been wrong to do this”. Trump initially responded angrily, saying May should concentrate on fighting “radical Islamic terror” in Britain, but he later, in an interview with Piers Morgan, retracted and half apologised. And though they were never soulmates, in subsequent encounters there was an undercurrent of respect from Trump. The lesson: sucking up is seen as weakness, straight talking may initially prompt a sharp response, but ultimately wins some respect.
In which context, the storm clouds are already gathering on one headline issue. Since his election success, Trump has reaffirmed his intention, as his first priority, to deport 10 million illegal migrants. Imagine how this is going to look: the midnight knocks on doors, the children torn from schools, the deportation camps, the legal challenges, the fraught negotiations with the countries to which they will be returned. The 2018 “children in cages” story went global: this will be bigger. And imagine the interventions in prime minister’s questions, not from Kemi Badenoch, but from Keir Starmer’s own backbenchers: does the prime minister condemn these inhuman policies? Not easy.
Kim Darroch was British ambassador to the US between 2016 and 2019
