“I’m telling you, these countries are calling us up, kissing my ass. They are. They are dying to make a deal. ‘Please, please, Sir, make a deal. I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything, sir!’”
When Donald Trump claimed the U.S. was making $2 billion a day from tariffs, he didn’t just lean into his typical bluster—he went full protection racket. And then he added his personal touch: “I’m telling you, these countries are calling us up, kissing my ass.” The line wasn’t just crude; it was the clearest window into Trump’s transactional worldview. In his mind, foreign leaders weren’t negotiating—they were groveling. They weren’t looking to find common ground; they were begging for his mercy.
A GLOBAL HUMILIATION TOUR
Trump’s imagery isn’t just unpresidential—it’s absurd. The image of diplomats frantically dialing up the White House, groveling for relief from tariffs Trump himself imposed, sounds less like a legitimate trade policy and more like a cutscene from a mob movie. And the boss? The boss loves it. The boss thinks it’s “legendary.”
But there’s a reason no other world leader talks like this. “Kissing my ass” isn’t a sign of respect—it’s a sign of delusion. It’s what you say when you’ve conflated fear and deference with genuine admiration. Foreign governments weren’t pleading out of love for Trump’s brilliance; they were simply trying to navigate the chaos he created. And for Trump, that’s exactly the point: create the problem, then demand tribute to solve it. It’s not genius. It’s not leadership. It’s the oldest con in the book.
THE RON VARA PLAYBOOK: PSEUDO-WISDOM AT ITS FINEST
Of course, Trump wasn’t alone in crafting this economic shakedown. Peter Navarro, his trade adviser and the ghostwriter behind the fictional Ron Vara persona, supplied plenty of fuel for this fire. Navarro invented Ron Vara to deliver simplistic, fearmongering warnings about foreign economic competition. Trump’s approach to tariffs took Navarro’s playbook and put it on steroids.
Ron Vara’s “wisdom” was never wisdom at all. It was a cartoonishly dumbed-down version of economic commentary—more suitable for a late-night infomercial than a legitimate trade strategy. Trump’s tariffs turned that pseudoscientific fearmongering into official policy. He borrowed from Navarro’s tendency to exaggerate threats, crank up the chaos, and then boast about the mess as if it were all part of a master plan.
FROM PROTECTION RACKET TO NATIONAL EMBARRASSMENT
This whole strategy—if you can call it that—reads like “Protection Rackets for Dummies.” First, Trump imposes the tariffs. Then he brags about the billions supposedly pouring in. And finally, he claims other countries are begging to “make a deal.” It’s the geopolitical equivalent of smashing store windows and then offering to sell the owners protection. Except in this case, the store owners are foreign nations, and the shattered glass is the global trade landscape.
Worse still, Trump’s chest-thumping about foreign leaders “kissing my ass” doesn’t play well on the world stage. It feeds the perception of America as a bully, not a partner. Instead of strengthening alliances, it makes the U.S. look erratic and arrogant. And instead of solving the real issues—like market stability and fair competition—Trump’s rhetoric ensures the focus remains on his theatrics rather than substantive results.
THE LEGACY OF BLUSTER
The long-term damage from Trump’s “ass-kissing” doctrine is clear. Allies have lost trust. Businesses have lost money. And America’s reputation has lost any semblance of stability. Trump may revel in the sound of his own hyperbole, but the rest of the world hears a leader who mistakes chaos for strategy, intimidation for success, and bluster for respect.
So when Trump boasts about countries calling him up, kissing his ass, what he’s really revealing is the truth behind his trade policies: they weren’t designed to strengthen the U.S. economy. They were designed to inflate his ego. And in the end, the only thing “legendary” about Trump’s tariffs is the damage they left behind.
This post has been syndicated from Closer to the Edge, where it was published under this address.