The Trump administration is advancing an illiberal Atlanticism that reimagines the West in manners similar to how Putin imagines Eurasia. Sibei Sun dissects the uncanny parallels between the two geopolitical doctrines — and considers what it all means for future transatlantic relations
Throughout 2025, several observers decried the second Trump presidency as the end of Atlanticism and even the West itself. The US is undoubtedly backtracking on the shared values and commitments which has defined its relations with Europe since 1945. However, this does not mean the Trump administration rejects Atlanticism and Western cohesion altogether. Rather, Trump is promoting an alternative version of Atlanticism — one that is principally cultural and imperial rather than liberal.
To understand Trump’s illiberal Atlanticism, it is essential to dig into its uncanny parallels with Russia’s geopolitical doctrine of Eurasianism. Observers frequently emphasise how Trump ‘admires’ Putin, but this often amounts to moral shaming rather than analytically useful comparisons. We should place greater attention on how Washington’s broader geopolitical vision now mirrors Moscow’s in substance.
Repeated betrayals of Ukraine, spontaneous tariffs, and annexation threats against NATO allies make Trump seem like the ultimate anti-Atlanticist. The 2025 National Security Strategy calls for weakening the European Union and downsizing American commitments to European security. Yet the document also frames these plans as ‘promoting European greatness’ through restoring ‘Europe’s civilizational self-confidence and Western identity.’
To advance US support for so-called 'patriotic' European parties, the Trump administration warns of Europe’s ‘civilizational erasure’ and of NATO members becoming ‘majority non-European’. This endorsement of Europe’s transnational national populists, who put shared Western cultural identity before liberal norms, definitely reflects illiberal Atlanticism. That said, it is hard not to notice that Trump’s civilizationist doctrine sounds more Russian than American.
Trump’s ideal versions of Europe and the West closely match Putin’s civilizational conceptions of Europe and Eurasia in Russia’s 2023 Foreign Policy Concept. Although Trump’s transatlantic ‘West’ and Putin’s continental ‘Eurasia’ are geographically opposed, they are ideationally alike.
Although Trump’s transatlantic ‘West’ and Putin’s continental ‘Eurasia’ are geographically opposed, they are ideationally alike
Putin stresses Russia’s ‘deep historical ties with the traditional European culture and other Eurasian cultures’. He even refers to Europe as ‘the European part of Eurasia.’ Moscow aspires to pull European states away from the ‘collective West’ and into a ‘Greater Eurasian Partnership’ with Russia. The Kremlin frames its hostility toward Europe as protecting a shared continental Eurasian identity against liberal Atlanticists. Trump’s transgressions against European allies use similar justifications — securing a US-led Western civilization by disciplining its members.
Trump and Putin each claim that their own nation, and Europeans, belong to one civilizational family. They both define Europeanness in terms of cultural, ethnic, and religious heritage, not the EU’s normative values. Both brand themselves paternalistic defenders of distinctive European culture against alien outsiders and decadent European liberal elites. Both blame Europe’s many problems on an EU whose policies have eroded national sovereignty and, along with it, distinctive national identities.
Trump and Putin each insist that sovereign European nation-states, which align more closely with their own geopolitical agenda, can address European woes. Both clearly see a politically fragmented Europe held together by cultural ideas as best serving their foreign policy interests. The Trump administration may have reduced US security commitments but, much like the Kremlin, seems intent on meddling in European politics on civilizational pretences.
The parallels between Trump’s illiberal Atlanticism and Putin’s Eurasianism extend well beyond Europe. Russia has long claimed a historical sphere of influence that it calls the ‘Near Abroad’. This consists of post-Soviet states across Eastern Europe, the Caucasus, and Central Asia. Russia treats this space as an imperial domain where it frequently intervenes, politically and militarily, to curb external influences. Putin’s disastrous invasion of Ukraine was driven partly by the belief that Ukraine belongs in the Near Abroad; the so-called Russian World.
Although the US has always maintained a sphere of influence, no recent administration matches Trump’s sheer Putin-like assertiveness and impunity. The US National Security Strategy’s Trump Corollary to the Monroe Doctrine treats the western hemisphere as America’s own Near Abroad. It calls for ‘applying pressure and offering incentives to partner countries’ to counter ‘adversarial outside influence’ from 'non-hemispheric competitors'. This is clearly a reference to China, which has significantly deepened its ties with regional states, to the alarm of US policymakers.
Although the US has always maintained a sphere of influence, no recent administration matches Trump’s sheer Putin-like assertiveness and impunity
To reassert US dominance, the Trump administration has sanctioned a Brazilian justice, bailed out the Milei government in Argentina, and compelled Panama to reduce Chinese investments. Trump’s military conducted extrajudicial killings of alleged drug traffickers, seized oil tankers, and brazenly arrested Nicolas Maduro in Venezuela. As with Russia’s Near Abroad, the revived Monroe Doctrine is an imperial mandate that trumps national sovereignty and international law.
NATO allies also fear Trump’s Near Abroad-like policies. Floating ideas like annexing Greenland and making Canada the 51st US state seems like trolling, but sounds uncomfortably Putinist. Unlike subaltern Latin American nations, Trump considers Canada and Denmark civilizational kin, yet still lesser subordinates within the imperial sphere. Putin’s coveted empire extends from Europe into Asia, whereas Trump’s extends from Europe across the Atlantic. While neither leader treats Europe as its imperial heartland, they both sentimentally imagine Europe as a civilizational epicentre.
Neither Trump nor Putin treat Europe as its imperial heartland, but both sentimentally imagine the continent as a civilizational epicentre
Trump’s illiberal Atlanticism and Putin’s Eurasianism overlap in Europe. This necessitates some degree of collusion toward a ‘peace plan’ (partition) for Ukraine to demarcate Trump’s West from Putin’s Eurasia. However, as history shows, rival strongmen with ideationally aligned geopolitical doctrines are prone to eventual zero-sum collisions over contested spaces.
For now, European nation-states must partly accommodate Trump’s version of Atlanticism by enhancing their own defensive capabilities and seeking common ground with the transnational right. To soft balance against illiberal Atlanticism, EU members, the UK, and Canada should jointly construct their own coherent geopolitical doctrine — one that adapts to current transatlantic realities instead of reviving the liberal order of yesterday.