In his second term, President Trump’s excessive personalization of foreign policy has been on full display. But far from being the deft strategist he portrays, Trump has turned American diplomacy into an impulsive, self-serving spectacle.

The most recent example is telling: Trump’s announcement of a ceasefire between Israel and Iran blindsided even his own top officials. That a decision of such geopolitical magnitude was made without the knowledge of his senior advisors speaks volumes about his go-it-alone governing style.

From suspending foreign aid to saying the U.S. should “take over and redevelop Gaza,” Trump’s uncoordinated, impulsive approach stands in sharp contrast to traditional U.S. diplomacy, which relies on strategic planning, inter-agency consensus and durable alliances. Trump’s method instead favors drama, unpredictability and personal branding — often at the expense of the national interest.

Trump has long treated foreign policy as theatrical performance, designed more to generate headlines than to achieve lasting outcomes. His habit of bypassing expert advice and established channels consistently undermines U.S. credibility — not just at home, but also among allies and adversaries.

His approach has sown confusion within his administration and distrust abroad. Allies are left wondering whether Trump’s statements reflect official policy or personal whim, and even his own Cabinet is often in the dark. Trump’s foreign policy is less a coherent strategy than a string of dramatic set-pieces crafted for maximum personal visibility.

Take the paradox of his recent Middle East gambit. Trump greenlit Israel’s preemptive war on Iran, then ordered U.S. airstrikes on Iranian nuclear sites — facilities that are subject to International Atomic Energy Agency safeguards and are monitored under Iran’s Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty commitments. After declaring victory, he touted a U.S.-brokered ceasefire as vindication of his strategy. Yet he conspicuously failed to acknowledge the crucial mediating role played by Qatar’s emir, Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani.

It was, in fact, the Qatari ruler who negotiated the truce that ended what Trump dubbed the “12-Day War.” But for Trump, who never misses a chance to claim center stage, downplaying others’ key roles is par for the course.

Trump claimed that he arranged the ceasefire between India and Pakistan following their military hostilities in early May. The confrontation was triggered by an cross-border terrorist attack in Indian Kashmir on April 22 in which Islamist gunmen targeted non-Muslims, killing 26 people.

India maintains that the ceasefire came about through direct bilateral talks after Pakistan requested a truce via the military hotline. But that hasn’t stopped Trump from repeatedly claiming credit and lobbying for a Nobel Peace Prize. “They should give me the Nobel Prize for Rwanda, or the Congo, or Serbia, Kosovo … The big one is India and Pakistan,” he recently declared.

Ironically, Trump may believe that bombing Iran helps his case for the Nobel — a prize that, over the years, has gone to a surprising roster of militarists. Theodore Roosevelt (the champion of “Big Stick” diplomacy), Henry Kissinger (the mastermind of the carpet-bombing of Laos and Cambodia) and Barack Obama (the serial interventionist who helped turn Libya into a failed state) all won it.

Yet Trump’s personalization of diplomacy brings risks that go beyond ego-driven showmanship. Major decisions made on impulse, for optics or without consulting national security professionals erode the foundations of U.S. foreign policy. They also increase the danger of strategic miscalculation.

Foreign governments cannot know whether Trump’s declarations reflect actual American policy or are merely the mood of the moment. By sidelining intelligence assessments and undercutting his own officials — as he did by floating regime change in Iran after his team publicly denied such intentions — Trump breeds internal disarray and external uncertainty.

This policy chaos is amplified by Trump’s compulsive communication style. No world leader talks more or posts more on social media. American officials are often left scrambling to explain statements they didn’t anticipate, while global actors are forced to decipher whether the next move will be announced from the Situation Room or on Truth Social.

The blurring of lines between national interest and personal gain further complicates matters. Increasingly, foreign policy appears to double as a mechanism for advancing private interests. In the past six months, Trump’s personal wealth surged thanks to a string of cryptocurrency ventures and deals, and there is mounting evidence that the Trump family’s crypto empire is influencing presidential decision-making.

Consider Trump’s handling of Pakistan in the wake of the Kashmir terror attack. Between the massacre and India’s retaliation, Pakistan hurriedly signed a major investment deal with World Liberty Financial, a crypto firm founded by Trump and his sons before last November’s election. Days later, Trump helped shield Pakistan from further Indian reprisals. Now he declares, “I love Pakistan” — a country that harbored Osama bin Laden for years and still shelters global terrorists.

In the end, Trump has reduced U.S. statecraft to spectacle. American foreign policy today looks less like the work of a global superpower and more like a one-man reality show — replete with cliffhangers, reversals, business deals and applause lines.

Such theatrics may serve Trump’s political ambitions, but they leave America’s strategic credibility — and the international order it helped build — increasingly vulnerable.

Brahma Chellaney is a geostrategist and the author of nine books, including the award-winning “Water: Asia’s New Battleground.”