How Donald Trump became president of Europe

 

How Donald Trump

became president

of Europe

 

The U.S. president describes himself as the European Union’s de facto leader. Is he wrong?

 

By NICHOLAS VINOCUR

Illustration by Justin Metz for POLITICO

https://www.politico.eu/article/donald-trump-european-union-president/

September 9, 2025 8:00 pm CET

By Nicholas Vinocur

 

European federalists, rejoice! The European Union finally has a bona fide president.

 

The only problem: He lives at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C., aka the White House.

 

U.S. President Donald Trump claimed the title during one of his recent off-the-cuff Oval Office banter sessions, asserting that EU leaders refer to him as “the president of Europe.”

 

The comment provoked knowing snickers in Brussels, where officials assured POLITICO that nobody they knew ever referred to Trump that way. But it also captured an embarrassing reality: EU leaders have effectively offered POTUS a seat at the head of their table.

 

From the NATO summit in June, when Trump revealed a text message in which NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte called him “daddy,” to the EU-U.S. trade accord signed in Scotland where EU leaders consented to a deal so lopsided in Washington’s favor it resembled a surrender, it looks like Trump has a point.

 

Never since the creation of the EU has a U.S. president wielded such direct influence over European affairs. And never have the leaders of the EU’s 27 countries appeared so willing — desperate even — to hold up a U.S. president as a figure of authority to be praised, cajoled, lobbied, courted, but never openly contradicted.

 

In off-the-record briefings, EU officials frame their deference to Trump as a necessary ploy to keep him engaged in European security and Ukraine’s future. But there’s no indication that, having supposedly done what it takes to keep the U.S. on side, Europe’s leaders are now trying to reassert their authority.

 

On the contrary, EU leaders now appear to be offering Trump a role in their affairs even when he hasn’t asked for it. A case in point: When a group of leaders traveled to Washington this summer to urge Trump to apply pressure to Russian President Vladimir Putin (he ignored them), they also asked him to prevail on his “friend,” Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, to lift his block on Ukraine’s eventual membership to the EU, per a Bloomberg report.

 

Trump duly picked up the phone. And while there’s no suggestion Orbán changed his tune on Ukraine, the fact that EU leaders felt compelled to ask the U.S. president to unstick one of their internal conflicts only further secured his status as a de facto European powerbroker.

 

“He may never be Europe’s president, but he can be its godfather,” said one EU diplomat who, like others in this piece, was granted anonymity to speak candidly. “The appropriate analogy is more criminal. We’re dealing with a mafia boss exerting extortionate influence over the businesses he purports to protect.”

 

“Brussels effect”

It was not long ago that the EU could describe itself credibly as a trade behemoth and a “regulatory superpower” able to command respect thanks to its vast consumer market and legal reach. EU leaders boasted of a “Brussels effect” that bent the behavior of corporations or foreign governments to European legal standards, even if they weren’t members of the bloc.

 

Anthony Gardner, a former U.S. ambassador to the EU, recalls that when Washington was negotiating a trade deal with the EU known as the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership in the 2010s, the U.S. considered Europe to be an equal peer.

 

“Since the founding of the EEC [European Economic Community], America’s position was that we want a strong Europe,” said Gardner. “And we had lots of disagreements with the EU, particularly on trade. But the way to deal with those is not through bullying.”

 

One sign of the EU’s confidence was its willingness to take on the U.S.’s biggest companies, as it did in 2001 when the European Commission blocked a planned $42 billion acquisition of Honeywell by General Electric. That was the beginning of more than a decade of assertive competition policy, with the bloc’s heavyweight officials like former antitrust czar Margrethe Vestager grandstanding in front of the world’s press and threatening to break up Google on antitrust grounds, or forcing Apple to pay back an eye-watering €13 billion over its tax arrangements in Ireland.

 

Compare that to last week, when the Commission was expected to fine Google for its search advertising practices. The decision was at first delayed at the request of EU Trade Commissioner Maroš Šefčovič, then quietly publicized via a press release and an explanatory video on Friday afternoon that did not feature the commissioner in charge, Teresa Ribera. (Neither move prevented Trump from announcing in a Truth Social post that his “Administration will NOT allow these discriminatory actions to stand.”)

 

“I’ve never seen anything like this in my entire career at the Commission,” said a senior Commission official. “Trump is inside the machine at this point.”

 

Since Trump’s reelection, EU leaders have been exceptionally careful in how they speak about the U.S. president, with two options seemingly available: Silence, or praise.

 

“At this moment, Estonia and many European countries support what Trump is doing,” Estonian President Alar Karis said in a recent POLITICO interview, referring to the U.S. president’s efforts to push Putin toward a peace with Ukraine. Never mind the fact that the Pentagon recently axed security funding for countries like his and is expected to follow up by reducing U.S. troop numbers there too.

 

It became fashionable among the cognoscenti ahead of the NATO summit in June to claim that the U.S. president had done Europe a favor by casting doubt on his commitment to the military alliance. Only by Trump’s cold kiss, the thinking went, would this Sleeping Beauty of a continent ever “wake up.”

 

As for Mark Rutte’s “daddy” comment — humiliatingly leaked from a private text message exchange by Trump himself — it was a clever ploy to appeal to the U.S. president’s ego.

 

Unfortunately for EU leaders, the pretense that Trump somehow has Europe’s interests in mind and was merely doling out “tough love” was dispelled just a few months later when European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen signed the EU-U.S. trade deal in Turnberry, Scotland. This time there was no disguising the true nature of what had transpired between Europe and the U.S.

 

The wolfish grins of Trump White House bigwigs Stephen Miller and Howard Lutnick in the official signing photograph told the whole story: Trump had laid down brutal, humiliating terms. Europe had effectively surrendered.

 

Many in Brussels interpreted the deal in the same way.

 

“You won’t hear me use that word [negotiation]” to describe what went on between Europe and the U.S., veteran EU trade negotiator Sabine Weyand told a recent panel.

 

Blame game

As EU officials settle in for la rentrée, the shock of these past few months has led to finger-pointing: Does the blame for this double whammy of subjugation lie with the European Commission, or with the EU’s 27 heads of state and government?

 

It’s tempting to point to the Commission, which, after all, has an exclusive mandate to negotiate trade deals on behalf of all EU countries. In the days leading up to Turnberry, von der Leyen and her top trade official, Šefčovič, could theoretically have taken a page from China’s playbook and struck back at the U.S. threat of 15 percent tariffs with tariffs of their own. Indeed, the EU’s trade arsenal is fully stocked with the means to do so, not least via the Anti-Coercion Instrument designed for precisely such situations.

 

But to heap all the blame on the doorstep of the Berlaymont isn’t fair, argues Gardner, the former U.S. ambassador to the EU.

 

The real architects of Europe’s summer of humiliation are the leaders who prevailed on the Commission to go along with Trump’s demands, whatever the cost. “What I am saying is that the member states have shown a lack of solidarity at a crucial moment,” said Gardner.

 

The consequences of this collective failure, he warns, may reverberate for years if not decades: “The first message here is that the most effective way for big trading blocs to win over Europe is to ruthlessly use leverage to divide the European Union. The second message, which maybe wasn’t fully taken into account: Member states may be asking themselves: What is the EU good for if it can’t provide a shield on trade?”

 

The same goes for regulation: Trump’s repeated threats of tariffs if the bloc dares to test his patience reveal the limits of EU sovereignty when it comes to the “Brussels effect.” And that leaves the bloc in desperate need of a new narrative about its role on the world stage.

 

The reasons why EU leaders decided to fold, rather than fight, are plain to see. They were laid bare in a recent speech by António Costa, who as president of the European Council convenes the EU leaders at their summits. “Escalating tensions with a key ally over tariffs, while our eastern border is under threat, would have been an imprudent risk,” Costa said.

 

But none of this answers the question: What now?

 

If Europe has already ceded so much to Trump, is the entire bloc condemned to vassalhood or, as some commentators have prophesied, a “century of humiliation” on par with the fate of the Qing dynasty following China’s Opium Wars with Britain? Possibly — though a century seems like a long time.

 

Among the steaming heaps of garbage, there are a few green shoots. To wit: The fact that polls indicate that the average European wants a tougher, more sovereign Europe and blames leaders rather than “the EU” for failing to deliver faster on benchmarks like a “European Defense Union.”

 

Europe’s current leaders (with a few exceptions, such as Denmark’s Mette Frederiksen) may be united in their embrace of Trump as Europe’s Godfather. But there is one Cassandra-like figure who refuses to let them off the hook for failing to deliver a more sovereign EU — former Italian Prime Minister and European Central Bank chief Mario Draghi.

 

Author of the “Draghi Report,” a tome of recommendations on how Europe can pull itself back up by the bootstraps, the 78-year-old is refusing to go quietly into retirement. On the contrary, in one speech after another, he’s reminding EU leaders that they were the ones who asked for the report they are now ignoring.

 

Speaking in Rimini, Italy, last month, Europe’s Cassandra summed up the challenge facing the Old World: In the past, he said, “the EU could act primarily as a regulator and arbiter, avoiding the harder question of political integration.”

 

“To face today’s challenges, the European Union must transform itself from a spectator — or at best a supporting actor — into a protagonist.”