In an age where political discourse is dominated by spectacle, bombast, and relentless self-promotion, the United States could benefit from the quiet, introspective cynicism of Graham Greene’s The Quiet American. Just over a month into his presidency, Donald Trump’s White House has been defined by incendiary rhetoric, brash nationalism, and transactional realpolitik, often prioritizing bold declarations over measured diplomacy.
Greene’s novel, set in the early days of US involvement in Vietnam, offers a cautionary tale about the dangers of American arrogance abroad and the perils of well-intentioned but reckless intervention. In sharp contrast to the noisy bravado of Trump’s America First agenda, the novel’s subdued skepticism and moral ambiguity provide a much-needed counterpoint—one that values humility over hubris, reflection over reaction, and a deeper understanding of global complexities over simplistic slogans. By embracing the lessons of The Quiet American, the U.S. might find a way to temper its overconfidence and rediscover the virtues of quiet, thoughtful leadership.
Nowhere was Trump’s brand of crude, transactional diplomacy more evident than in his infamous White House meeting with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky. Rather than treating Zelensky as an ally in need, Trump saw him as a political pawn, leveraging US military aid in exchange for personal political favors and access to mineral rights. His actions reflected not the measured caution of a statesman but the brazen opportunism of a dealmaker.
The Ugly American (1958) by William Lederer and Eugene Burdick exposes the same brand of arrogant, self-serving diplomacy. A scathing critique of US failures in Southeast Asia, it depicts American officials as clueless about local cultures, dismissive of foreign leaders, and more obsessed with power than democracy.
In the novel, the titular character epitomizes the worst of American diplomacy – arrogance, ignorance, and a failure to connect with the very people they seek to influence. It lays bare the blundering incompetence of US officials in Southeast Asia, highlighting the stark contrast between those who flounder in hubris and the rare few who succeed through humility and cultural understanding. Rather than heeding this critique, Trump personifies the very essence of the “ugly American.” His foreign policy is marked by a fundamental disregard for diplomacy, a penchant for public insult over quiet negotiation, and a willful ignorance of global complexities.
Trump’s treatment of Zelensky was a textbook example of this arrogance. In their meeting, he radiated condescension, seeing Zelensky not as the leader of a nation fighting for survival but as a supplicant expected to show gratitude. His infamous 2019 phone call, conditioning military aid on Ukraine investigating Joe Biden, was the very embodiment of the cynical, transactional politics condemned in The Ugly American. Instead of building trust and strengthening alliances, Trump leveraged US power to strong-arm an ally, putting his personal interests above America’s commitment to global stability and democracy.
Some Republicans, like US Representative Don Bacon and Senator James Lankford, broke ranks from MAGA to rip into the calamitous Oval Office screaming match witnessed between Trump, Vice President J.D. Vance, and Zelensky. Bacon condemned the debacle as an embarrassment on the world stage, warning that such reckless behavior undermines US credibility with its allies. Lankford echoed these concerns, arguing that berating a wartime leader seeking support only emboldens Russia and weakens US leadership. Their criticism reflects a growing unease among establishment Republicans about Trump’s erratic foreign policy approach.
Beyond damaging US alliances, Trump’s display of statecraft ignorance only serves to reinforce the image of the Ugly American – a brash, arrogant leader who bullies allies, disregards diplomacy, and alienates global partners. Instead of projecting strength through strategic leadership, his outburst showcased impulsiveness and a fundamental misunderstanding of international relations, further isolating the United States on the world stage.
“A bad day for America’s foreign policy. Ukraine wants independence, free markets, and rule of law. It wants to be part of the West. Russia hates us and our Western values. We should be clear that we stand for freedom,” Bacon sent in a text message to The Hill.
The current administration’s actions stand in stark contrast to the leadership portrayed in The Quiet American, where moral complexity and humility outweigh blind ideology and self-serving ambition. Greene’s protagonist, Fowler, represents a skeptical, world-weary approach to foreign affairs – one that acknowledges the limits of American influence and the unintended consequences of intervention. His foil, Pyle, embodies the naive yet destructive idealism of US foreign policy, convinced that his actions are noble even as they lead to chaos. Trump, however, lacks even Pyle’s misguided altruism; instead, his approach to diplomacy remains purely self-interested, with no regard for long-term consequences or ethical considerations.
Trump’s handling of Ukraine is emblematic of a broader failure—a failure to understand that leadership requires more than bluster, that true strength comes not from coercion but from trust, and that the world is far too complex to be reduced to simple deals and slogans.
The United States needs and deserves much more than another loud, reckless leader who thrives on spectacle over substance. It needs a Quiet American—a leader who grasps the nuances of power, listens as much as they speak, and understands that real influence comes through wisdom and restraint, not bluster and self-interest.
The consequences of this approach have been profound. Trump’s dismissive attitude toward allies and his transactional view of diplomacy have weakened America’s global standing, making it harder to build coalitions and promote democratic values abroad.
There’s still time for this new administration to learn to embrace the lessons of Greene’s novel and reject the arrogance of The Ugly American. Only then can it restore its moral authority and reassert its role as a responsible global leader.
James Borton is a non-resident senior fellow at Johns Hopkins SAIS Foreign Policy Institute and the author of Dispatches from the South China Sea: Navigating to Common Ground.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author(s) alone and do not necessarily reflect those of Geopoliticalmonitor.com.