Daniel DePetris

Joe Biden is out, Donald Trump is in, and ‘the golden age of America has begun.’ Trump’s second inaugural address on this frigid January afternoon was, as one might expect, laced with grievances, bombast, self-congratulation and big promises. The speech was a preview of the dozens of executive orders primed for the president’s signature hours later, some of which, such as declaring a national emergency along the US–Mexico border, were at the core of his campaign. While Trump stuck with domestic issues, there were several broad foreign policy themes he chose to highlight.

On 29 December, former US president Jimmy Carter died peacefully at his ranch house in Plains, Georgia, at the age of 100. Over the last few years, most people knew him as the old head of state in the rocking chair, surrounded by family and friends, whose sense of morality and numerous good works were the stuff of legends. Whether it was building houses for the poor or establishing an institution that monitored elections around the world, nobody could accuse Carter of living an unproductive life after the presidency. The former peanut farmer from Georgia, however, was also given a bad wrap. He is frequently remembered as the bumbler whose one-term in office was weak and ineffectual.

On Saturday afternoon, US intelligence officials leaked an assessment: the Assad regime, which has ruled Syria for over half a century, could very well collapse in a manner of days. As one official told CNN, ‘Probably by next weekend the Assad regime will have lost any semblance of power.’ It turns out that Washington was giving Assad too much credit. Less than eight hours later, a regime that had locked up hundreds of thousands of prisoners in dudgeons across the country, and used chemical weapons against its own people on multiple occasions to keep itself in power, was burning up and heading for the ash heap of history.

What on earth is Donald Trump thinking? That’s what many realists and restrainers inside and out of Washington are asking themselves after news broke late last night that Marco Rubio, the senior senator from Florida, is set to be tapped as secretary of state in the next administration.  The reactions haven’t been uniformly bad, mind you. Other candidates rumored to be under consideration, such as Vivek Ramaswamy, caused many in the US foreign policy elite to wretch in fear. Others, like former national security advisor Robert O’Brien and Senator Bill Hagerty, who served as US ambassador to Japan during Trump’s first term, would have been predictable choices with whom most could live.  Rubio, however, is one of the most hawkish options Trump could have picked.

President Joe Biden only has a few more months before he steps out of the White House, hands over the keys to his successor and spends his remaining days soaking in the Delaware sun. But before he enjoys retirement, the lifelong public servant has a big piece of unfinished business: scoring a major foreign policy win that will secure his place in the history books. Unfortunately, dreaming about being a statesman is one thing; being one is quite another. The two conflicts that would give the president that coveted status — the wars in Gaza and Ukraine — aren’t presently amenable to diplomatic resolution. And while Biden and his advisors may be committed to doing the impossible, all the commitment in the world won’t do much if the combatants are intent on slugging it out.

There’s no point sugarcoating it: the first presidential debate between Joe Biden and Donald Trump was a complete mess. Biden was listless, frail and confused. Trump was defiant, ranting and often incoherent. Kim Darroch, Britain’s former ambassador to the United States, summed it up well. ‘Every answer from Trump, if you listen to them carefully, is a mixture of wild exaggeration and total fantasy…his performance is pretty terrible too, but it was fluent and confident nonsense rather than stumbling, losing my train of thought nonsense.’ I suspect most Americans would agree with him. Yet it’s important to resist the temptation to extrapolate from a single event. Domestic politics is one thing, international politics is another.