World about US

18-01-2026

How the World Sees Trump's Second America: Brazil, Japan and Israel

The return of Donald Trump to the White House and the first steps of his second administration have triggered a new wave of debates about America — from São Paulo to Tokyo and Tel Aviv. The focus is not only on the personality of the U.S. president, but on how "Trump's second America" breaks international rules, reshapes trade, alters the security architecture and influences domestic debates in other countries. While within the United States there is dispute over democracy, migrants and "affordability of life," abroad the primary concern is how Washington's new policies will affect their economies, security and regional balance of power.

The first significant layer of discussions is linked to the U.S. turn away from multilateral institutions. Japanese analysts dissect in detail Trump’s unprecedented January 7, 2026 decree withdrawing the U.S. from 66 international organizations and treaties at once, including U.N. bodies and the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change. In the business outlet Tsugino Jidai they explain that this is a logical continuation of the MAGA-2 course: replacing "international rules" with a purely transactional logic of deals, where Washington uses the weight of the dollar and the market as leverage. The review's author states plainly: this is the "U.S. departure from coordination through rules to unilateral use of tariffs and sanctions as instruments of deals," and ponders the consequences for Japanese companies — from ESG standards to access to financing from multilateral development banks. In a popularized take for a broad audience, Asahi Shimbun emphasizes that even within the United States the question arises: can the president unilaterally terminate such treaties without Congressional approval? — thus Japanese press cautiously signals the legal and political fragility of Washington's new course.

The Brazilian agenda is different: local columnists and international commentators connect the American move with a weakening of the global climate agenda, which is critically important for the Amazon and agricultural exports. In pieces in the vein of Maria Silva’s column in Folha de S.Paulo it is emphasized that the U.S. withdrawal from climate architectures undermines the negotiating positions of southern countries: without Washington’s participation, carbon credit markets and climate finance risk becoming a "club of northern countries," where the Global South will again act as a supplier of raw materials rather than an equal partner. Journalists remind readers that Brazil is caught between two fires: on one side, EU pressure over "green" standards; on the other, the United States withdrawing from climate regimes while simultaneously using them as tools of trade pressure.

In Israel, the U.S. pullout from multilateral institutions is viewed primarily through the lens of security and the legitimacy of American power. In analysis around the June U.S. strikes on Iran’s nuclear infrastructure, extensively covered by Israeli media, CNN commentator Stephen Collinson — quoted in a Ynet piece — described the strikes as a moment when "Iran’s power was castrated and U.S. might rose to new heights," but he immediately warned: if Iran’s program ultimately survives, Trump could put "the U.S. and the whole world on a destructive path." Israeli analysts extend the thought — in Haaretz and Ynet they discuss that Washington’s rejection of international arms-control frameworks turns American power into something more autonomous but also more unpredictable, including for allies. In this context, the importance of multilateral institutions is debated not as an abstract liberal ideal but as a mechanism that limited spikes of risk in the Middle East.

The second major node of international reactions is "Trump’s obsession with tariffs," as Israeli economic commentator Sever Plotker bluntly calls it in a Ynet article titled "The U.S. Will Pay for Trump’s Tariff Obsession." He points out that the new tariffs — 25% on imports from Canada and Mexico and 10% on China — are in reality not paid by foreign governments but by the American consumer: he estimates this could add more than $3,300 a year to the expenses of the average family and drive inflation to 3.5–4%. In his view, Trump is mistaken three times: first, about who pays tariffs; second, that they will substantially fill the treasury; third, in believing that protectionism will strengthen the U.S. economy. For Israel this debate is not theoretical: local exporters have already faced an increase in the baseline U.S. tariff rate to 17%, later partially softened to 15% after difficult negotiations that the Israeli press described as a painful but beneficial compromise that temporarily protected key industries.

Japanese business media view the same tariffs from a completely different angle — as a structural risk to supply chains in Asia. Tsugino Jidai analyzes in detail the "Trump tariffs" on timber and furniture: since 2025 additional 10% tariffs were imposed on imports of softwood lumber and 25% on certain wood products, and from January 1, 2026 rates on some items will rise to 30% and even 50%. However, following negotiations with allies, the U.S. agreed to limit the aggregate tariff on imports of these goods from Japan and the EU to a 15% "ceiling" cap. Japanese commentators note that, on the one hand, the agreement cements Tokyo’s special status as a priority Washington partner, and on the other forces Japanese businesses to build long-term strategies based on the reality of constant tariff turbulence. In a series of analytical pieces on geo-economic risks for 2026, authors on the same platform emphasize that "Trump’s second administration has turned tariffs and rare-earth restrictions into everyday foreign-policy tools," and they predict that in 2026 the balance in Japanese corporate strategy between "cost" and "supply security" will finally shift in favor of the latter.

The Brazilian perspective is more politicized and tied to domestic debates about the development model: in columns in Folha de S.Paulo and Estadão economists argue whether Brazil should respond symmetrically to American protectionism. Some draw parallels between Trump’s tariffs and historical protectionist waves in Latin America, warning of a risk of "returning to the 1930s" with falling competition and rising corruption in state companies. Others, by contrast, see hard tariff policies as an opportunity for Southern countries to reassess what they view as unfair WTO rules and to build more favorable value chains — but only if Brazil does not remain a passive object of American tariff warfare and instead becomes an active player, forging alternative coalitions with the EU, China and Africa.

The third line of discussion running through Tokyo and Tel Aviv is U.S. strategic unpredictability on security issues, primarily regarding China and Taiwan. Japanese analysis frequently features the "Taiwan scenario" and how the new administration in Washington might respond to a crisis. Political scientist Taiga Wada, writing for Tsugino Jidai, discusses the "opacity of Trump’s Taiwan policy" and notes that amid tough rhetoric toward China (tariffs, sanctions, export controls) it remains unclear whether Washington is prepared to take real military risks to defend the island. He recalls joint Japan-U.S. statements that mention Taiwan but stresses that Japanese business and government need to plan for the worst-case scenario: "The uncertainty of the world’s most powerful state is also a risk, and Japanese companies must prepare for it."

Israel views the same unpredictability through the prism of Iran and Gaza. After the summer U.S. strikes on Iran’s nuclear infrastructure in 2025, the Israeli press described Trump as a leader who "changed the Middle East with one strike" — possibly removing the threat of Israel’s nuclear annihilation but at the same time bringing the region closer to full-scale war if Tehran decides to retaliate against American or Israeli targets. A Ynet commentator quotes Collinson: "The summer night of mid-June 2025 may go down in history as the day the Middle East changed forever," but adds: "the risks to Israel are greater the fewer international frameworks tie down America." Against this backdrop, Trump’s own statement that he will "reveal the composition of the Peace Council for Gaza" in early 2026 — a body he said would include "kings, presidents and prime ministers" — is met in Israel with a notable degree of skepticism. A Ynet piece notes that "everyone wants to be there," according to Trump, but Israeli commentators wonder: what real powers will such a council have and won’t it simply become a decorative showcase for Washington’s unilateral decisions?

The fourth common theme is the impact of American policy on domestic socio-economic debates abroad. In Israel there has been wide resonance around a detailed analysis of "how Trump changed America in a year and what his new goal is," where Ynet states that 2025 was the worst year for the U.S. labor market since 2003 (excluding recession years), and by early 2026 medical insurance premiums "soared into the heavens" after Trump and Republicans in Congress refused to extend the Obamacare subsidies that had helped 30 million Americans obtain coverage. The author notes that the word affordability has become one of the key terms in American politics in 2025 and has already entered the Israeli agenda as a marker of middle-class crisis in Western countries. A separate block of analysis is devoted to migration policy: mass deportations alongside a record low in illegal crossings at the southern border are seen as evidence that Trump fulfilled his hard-line promise — but at the cost of gross human-rights violations, including the detention of U.S.-citizen children. For Israeli readers this serves both as a window into American reality and as a mirror for their own debates about migrant rights and the Arab minority.

In Brazil the social aspect of American changes is reflected through the lens of inequality and "cracks" in American democracy. Center-left authors in Folha de S.Paulo compare the Republican tax reform, which delivers the greatest benefits to the wealthiest layers, with historical projects of Brazilian governments when fiscal policy increased income concentration and spawned political radicalism. On the pages of cultural and political magazines, interest is growing in American debates about racial inequality and voting rights: Trump’s utterances, such as that "in four years you won’t have to vote — we will fix everything so well that elections won’t be needed," which in the West are criticized as hints at undermining democracy, are often viewed in Brazil as a warning: "if America flirts with authoritarianism, then our institutions could be much weaker than they seem."

Japan reacts more restrainedly in socio-political terms, but American domestic politics still becomes a factor in discussion there. In financial analysis for Ynet aimed at international investors, Israeli expert Nir Michael Maimon notes that if Trump intensifies pressure on the Federal Reserve — up to replacing its chair in 2026 — and insists on sharp rate cuts, this will lead to a cheaper dollar and higher commodity prices. For Japan, where the Bank of Japan has already begun a cycle of rate increases, such fluctuations in the U.S. mean a difficult choice: either follow the Fed and risk domestic financial stability, or stand aside, in which case the yen would become an even more attractive safe-haven currency, hurting exports. Here, the American domestic political struggle for control over institutions (the Fed, courts, the electoral system) acquires international significance — not as an abstract debate about democracy but as a question about global liquidity parameters and borrowing costs.

Finally, everywhere — from Rio to Jerusalem and Tokyo — people debate the trajectory of American democracy under Trump. Israeli liberal commentators react particularly sharply to his phrase addressed to a religious audience that "if you go out and vote now, you won’t have to do it again — we will fix everything so that elections are no longer needed." Ynet interprets this as a symbolic "cancellation of the 2028 elections" and a potential threat to the democratic order. Against this background, Trump’s decision to end extended protection for his former rival Kamala Harris, which Biden had extended through January 2026, is described as an act of political revenge and a signal to all future opponents: personal loyalty can influence even basic security matters.

In Brazil such gestures are seen as further confirmation of a trend well known to Latin Americans: a president turning the state apparatus into an instrument of personal retribution. Brazilian commentators draw direct parallels between Trump’s rhetoric and the practices of local populists, warning that the "Americanization" of political conflict in Brazil — with a cult of the leader, total media polarization and delegitimization of elections — carries far more risks than benefits. In Japan, by contrast, fear of such politicization of institutions has sparked debate about the need to strengthen domestic checks and balances so that Japanese foreign and economic policy do not become hostage to Washington’s swings.

Taken together, the international picture is far more complex than the simplified image of "the world against Trump" or, conversely, "the world adjusting to the new America." Brazil reads the U.S. through the prism of a struggle between climate responsibility and a raw-material model; Japan sees it as a source of geo-economic and military risks requiring technocratic adaptation; Israel views it simultaneously as an indispensable security guarantor and a potential source of regional instability and democratic backsliding. What becomes common is this: everywhere America is ceasing to be perceived as a stable anchor of the international order and is increasingly described as a variable with high volatility. And that, perhaps, is the main shift in how the world today talks about the "American factor": not as an axis around which the system is built, but as a powerful yet unpredictable player that must be adapted to — and defended against — economically, politically and institutionally.