The Art of the (Middle East) Deal

Though elected on an isolationist promise, President Trump’s Middle East doctrine has alarmed MAGA purists by embracing strength and strategic entanglement.

Within hours of bombing Iran’s nuclear facilities in Fordow, Natanz, and Isfahan, Trump, with characteristic bombast, declared victory and called for peace, while warning both Iran and Israel to respect his unilateral ceasefire. The so-called ‘12-day war’ ended leaving Trump’s anti-interventionist supporters in ideological freefall.

For a man elected to end forever wars, a careful examination shows that Trump’s Middle East doctrine has proven anything but isolationist. The Iran strikes disappointed the MAGA faithful, sending many of Trump’s supporters into paroxysms of rage.

Trump is willing to engage in short, kinetic bursts of action to secure national interests. His administration has certainly renounced the liberal interventionism that followed the Cold War, which was protracted, expensive and morally freighted, and replaced it with a doctrine of calibrated unilateralism. Each strike is a show of force and each threat a test of nerve in this Trumpian doctrine.

Trump’s Middle East doctrine marks a clear departure from his predecessors. Whereas George W. Bush pursued grand ideological crusades in Iraq and Afghanistan, and Barack Obama sought to recalibrate American influence through diplomacy and multilateralism, Trump has favoured coercive pragmatism.

The clearest example remains Trump’s 2020 assassination of Qasem Soleimani, Iran’s most powerful general and regional powerbroker. Where conventional politicians might have balked at killing a sovereign state's top commander, Trump pressed the button. “To terrorists who harm or intend to harm any American, we will find you; we will eliminate you,” he said, before issuing a warning to Tehran: “We are ready and prepared to take whatever action is necessary.”

Trump has weaponised economic coercion with the same theatrical style. In 2019, when Turkey launched an offensive against America’s Kurdish allies in Syria, Trump responded by threatening to “destroy” the Turkish economy, imposed sanctions on officials, hiked tariffs and dispatched Mike Pence and Mike Pompeo to Ankara. Within two weeks, a ceasefire was brokered. Sanctions were lifted and American forces withdrew.

The same playbook was deployed over the fate of Andrew Brunson, an American pastor imprisoned in Turkey. When President Erdoğan refused to release him despite a diplomatic quid pro quo, Trump imposed Magnitsky sanctions, doubled tariffs on Turkish metals and tanked the lira. Erdoğan eventually yielded.

If coercion is the stick, recognition is the carrot. On a surprise visit to Riyadh in May this year, Trump, to the shock and surprise of many, announced the end of American sanctions on Syria, now under new leadership of Ahmed al-Sharaa, once the commander of Jabhat al-Nusra - al-Qaeda’s Syrian franchise. “It’s their time to shine,” Trump declared.

What binds these episodes together is Trump’s rejection of post-9/11 orthodoxy. In 2017, he declared America would “no longer use military might to construct democracies in faraway lands.” He praised the Gulf states for charting their own course while criticizing erstwhile American regimes for having wasted trillions in Baghdad.

Trump’s message, in this sense, has remained consistent, if not always comfortable for his most ardent backers. His decision not to immediately withdraw from Afghanistan early in his presidency earned him scorn from Breitbart, a longtime cheerleader.

Still, he has largely governed as he promised - not by retreating, but by refusing to remake the world in America’s image.

This doctrine has delivered episodic wins on Trump’s terms but limitations are evident in his struggle to contain more complex conflicts. Despite lofty rhetoric and arm-twisting, Trump has failed to bring either the Gaza war or the Russia-Ukraine conflict to heel. Allies may chafe and MAGA purists may grumble, but for Trump, projecting power remains the proof, and not the contradiction of ‘America First.’