In a move that surprised absolutely no one and yet left jaws permanently unhinged, Donald J. Trump — president, current criminal defendant, and eternal main character of American life — recently proclaimed that world leaders would kiss his ass to get favorable trade deals if he returns to the White House. And just like that, U.S. foreign policy was once again reduced to a very vivid image of global leaders lining up to pucker up for the 45th president’s rear end.
Welcome back to the Trump Doctrine — or, as it’s now more accurately known, Butt Diplomacy™.
A Foreign Policy of Flesh
Let’s be clear: Trump wasn’t speaking metaphorically. He doesn’t do metaphors. He was speaking with the raw bravado of a man who thinks the United Nations is a reality TV show where the person with the best insults wins. According to him, international trade agreements hinge not on economics, diplomacy, or mutual benefit — but on the gravitational pull of his own buttocks.
It’s the kind of statement that would have sunk any other politician. But Trump? He floats, untethered by shame, logic, or anatomical modesty.
The Cheeks That Launched a Thousand Tariffs
This isn’t the first time Trump has leaned into bizarre body part bravado. Remember his hand size comments? Or his obsession with being called “strong”? The man has turned the political arena into a schoolyard brawl where dominance is measured not in policy wins, but in how many people you can bully into acknowledging your physical (and metaphorical) largeness.
Now, his posterior has become the centerpiece of his economic platform.
Forget the Trans-Pacific Partnership or NAFTA 2.0. In Trump’s vision, the entire global economic order will revolve around his glutes. Presidents, prime ministers, maybe even the Pope — all lined up like contestants on The Apprentice: International Edition, praying for a chance to smooch the seat of power.
The GOP’s Silent Squirm
Republicans, once the party of “family values,” “personal responsibility,” and the occasional beige scandal, are now awkwardly nodding as their presumptive nominee turns diplomacy into an episode of Jackass. The party that used to clutch pearls over tan suits and Dijon mustard is now effectively endorsing a foreign policy that sounds like a deleted scene from Borat.
Notably absent from the conversation? Policy proposals. Details. Coherence. But that’s the point — Trump doesn’t do policy, he does theater. And this is the performance: Big, loud, and always, always about him. Every tariff, every negotiation, every meeting — it’s all just a prelude to his ultimate fantasy: a parade of global elites paying tribute to his derriere.
America’s Rear-View Mirror
There’s something darkly poetic about all this. In 2016, Trump promised to “Make America Great Again.” By 2025, his campaign slogan may as well be “Make America Kiss My Ass.”
And let’s not kid ourselves — for a sizable chunk of voters, that’s the appeal. It’s not about lower taxes or job growth. It’s about vengeance, humiliation, domination. If Barack Obama’s presidency was about hope, Trump’s is about spite. And his posterior, apparently, is the battleground.
In a nation where politics is increasingly performative, Trump’s butt has become a stand-in for American exceptionalism. It’s not about what the U.S. can offer the world — it’s about what the world can offer Trump. And if that means a few figurative (or, heaven forbid, literal) kisses on the backside, so be it.
Satire, or Just Tuesday?
The great challenge of writing satire in the Trump era is that reality keeps doing the job for you. A few years ago, suggesting that a presidential candidate would brag about global leaders kissing his ass would be The Onion-level absurdity. Now, it’s just another Tuesday.
So what do we do with this?
We laugh — because otherwise, we’d scream. We write columns like this one, because the only response to such absurdity is more absurdity. And we vote, ideally for someone who doesn’t believe that America’s future depends on the elasticity of their butt cheeks.
The Final Word
Maybe one day we’ll return to a political discourse where leadership is about vision, not vanity. Where power isn’t measured in body parts, but in principles. But until then, we live in Trump’s world — where the ass is mightier than the sword, and international diplomacy begins (and ends) with a cheeky proclamation.