LONDON – In the seventeenth century, Puritan leader and Massachusetts Bay Colony founder John Winthrop described the new settlement as “a city on a hill” – a phrase he borrowed from the Gospel of Matthew. He envisioned it as a shining example, a community meant to inspire others within North America and beyond.
Over time, Winthrop’s words have become a recurring feature of American political rhetoric. Presidents John F. Kennedy and Ronald Reagan both drew on his “city on a hill” metaphor to articulate the values and sense of exceptionalism that defined the United States. Far from being dismissed, this vision resonated with people around the world, many of whom saw the US as a model of a liberal, open society – democratic and governed by the rule of law – and worthy of emulation.
In the years following World War II, the US demonstrated what freedom could achieve in a world still plagued by tyranny. During this period, American leaders played a vital role in shaping an international order that ushered in an era of peace and prosperity, benefiting many countries – not just their own.
The postwar US-led international order is perhaps the best example of soft power: a country’s ability to influence others through ideals, culture, and values rather than through force. By remaining committed to helping other countries succeed, America strengthened its global standing and achieved lasting greatness.
But as US President Donald Trump’s second term unfolds, his administration is openly and deliberately dismantling the foundations of American soft power. For example, Trump seems to believe in democracy only when it works in his favor, showing little understanding – or regard – for the checks and balances that protect democratic systems from devolving into raw majoritarianism.
Unlike every postwar US president before him, Trump has the instincts of an authoritarian ruler, and he governs accordingly. On the international stage, he seems more comfortable dealing with the likes of Russian President Vladimir Putin than with America’s traditional democratic allies.
To make matters worse, Trump has surrounded himself with sycophants who eagerly echo whatever they believe he wants to hear. His occasional cabinet meetings are cringe-inducing displays of obsequiousness by senior administration officials. The level of deference is as astonishing as it is embarrassing. A prime example is Secretary of State Marco Rubio’s disgraceful description of Germany as a disguised dictatorship for designating the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) as an extremist party.
At a recent cabinet meeting marking Trump’s first 100 days in office, Vice President J.D. Vance acted as toady-in-chief. For some politicians, integrity is a small price to pay for power. Once a vocal critic who called Trump “America’s Hitler,” Vance has long since decided that he prefers to stand beside actual fascists and authoritarian strongmen.
Unsurprisingly, Trump was the only one at that cabinet meeting to address America’s faltering economy. But rather than taking responsibility for the consequences of his own disastrous policies, he shifted the blame to his predecessor, Joe Biden – despite inheriting robust GDP growth and a booming stock market.
Trump’s chaotic economic agenda rests on two main pillars. The first is the belief – championed by chainsaw-waving billionaire Elon Musk – that trillions of dollars can be saved by eliminating government waste and that deep cuts are needed to finance tax cuts for the rich. Never mind that these cuts disproportionately harm the poorest Americans or gut essential foreign-aid programs that help millions of people – and help advance US interests – around the world.
The geopolitical implications could be far-reaching. As the US slashes aid budgets, China is stepping in to fill the void, expanding its influence in Africa and Southeast Asia through increased aid and investment. Consequently, China’s popularity is rising across the developing world while America’s is in free fall.
The second pillar of Trump’s economic policy is the imposition of sweeping tariffs on nearly every major trading partner, often based on flimsy or bizarre justifications. The likely outcome is not just a global slowdown but a potential domestic recession, as indicated by the 0.3% decline in US GDP in the first quarter of 2025, compared to 2.4% growth in the fourth quarter of 2024, the last of Biden’s presidency.
This raises a critical question: Who benefits from Trump’s authoritarianism? America’s universities – arguably the best in the world – are under attack whenever their research challenges the administration’s ideological positions or simply provokes Trump’s anger. The chilling effect is already visible, with outspoken Trump critics like historian Timothy Snyder and philosopher Jason Stanley departing for universities outside the US.
Free speech, which Trump and Musk have pretended to care about, is also under threat. Media organizations that fail to toe the Republican Party line have been targeted, even as some of their billionaire owners have cravenly capitulated to Trump. The administration has also flouted the rule of law, attacking judges who question the legality of its actions while trying to roll back fundamental, constitutionally guaranteed civil liberties, especially due process.
What does this mean for the values that once made America admired around the world? Has the shining “city on the hill” been reduced, metaphorically, to the kind of rubble we now see in Gaza and Ukraine? While I still have faith that the US and its people can reverse course, rebuilding the US-led international order is going to take far longer than the time it has taken Trump to tear it down.
In the meantime, the recent elections in Canada and Australia – both of which ended in resounding victories for liberal parties – offer a glimmer of hope, showing that resistance to Trumpism is possible and effective. The city on a hill may no longer shine as it once did, but its light has not gone out.
Copyright: Project Syndicate, 2025.
