When Donald Trump returned to power in early 2025, Europe’s far-right parties welcomed the moment with enthusiasm. For years, many nationalist leaders across the continent had looked to Washington for validation, and Trump’s renewed presidency—combined with vocal support from his administration—felt like a breakthrough. His rhetoric against liberal elites and global institutions resonated deeply, offering these movements a sense of legitimacy and momentum.
At the time, figures such as Germany’s Alternative for Germany co-leader Tino Chrupalla openly celebrated the alignment. After attending a rally near the German-Polish border, he praised a speech delivered in Munich by U.S. Vice President J. D. Vance, calling it one of the best he had ever heard from a foreign politician. For Europe’s far-right, the endorsement from the White House appeared to signal a new era of influence and acceptance.
Yet just over a year later, that enthusiasm has largely dissipated. What began as excitement gradually turned into discomfort and, in many cases, outright rejection. The relationship between Trump and his European ideological allies has become strained, revealing the risks of aligning too closely with a leader whose actions are often seen as erratic and unpredictable.
According to reporting highlighted by El Pais, this shift is evident in the increasingly public disagreements between Trump and key European figures. Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, once considered one of his closest allies on the continent, has distanced herself from his positions. Their recent clash—sparked by Trump’s criticism of Pope Leo XIV—underscored the growing divide. Meloni condemned his remarks as unacceptable and has also taken a more cautious stance on his military actions in Iran.
The fallout extends beyond Italy. Across Europe, nationalist parties are reassessing their relationship with Washington, particularly as Trump’s policies begin to carry tangible political costs. In Hungary, for example, the presence of J. D. Vance during Viktor Orbán’s reelection campaign failed to deliver the expected boost. Instead, analysts described it as a political liability that may have hurt more than it helped.
Even within parties that once embraced Trump enthusiastically, rhetoric has shifted. Chrupalla, who previously applauded American support, has since called for the withdrawal of U.S. troops from Germany and criticized American and Israeli military actions in the Middle East. Similar sentiments have emerged in France, where Jordan Bardella of the National Rally has questioned the coherence of Trump’s strategy in Iran, describing it as lacking a clear ideological foundation.
This transformation reflects a broader realization among Europe’s far-right movements: Trump’s backing comes with significant risks. His trade policies, including tariffs that threaten European industries, have alienated key voter bases such as farmers and industrial workers. His foreign policy decisions—ranging from interventions in Venezuela to controversial ambitions involving Greenland—have raised concerns about national sovereignty, a core principle for nationalist parties.
The war in Iran has further amplified these tensions. Trump’s aggressive posture and unpredictable objectives have made it increasingly difficult for European allies to defend or align with his actions. For parties that built their identity on defending national interests, association with policies perceived as destabilizing or unlawful presents a serious challenge.
Political analysts argue that Trump’s image in Europe has deteriorated significantly, weakening his value as an ally. Dominique Moïsi of the Institut Montaigne notes that populist movements once saw the United States as a model, believing Trump’s rise would pave the way for similar victories in Europe. That narrative, however, is now being questioned as American leadership becomes more controversial.
Evidence of this shift can also be seen beyond Europe. Elections in Canada and Australia in 2025 demonstrated how association with Trump-style politics can backfire. In both cases, conservative candidates initially favored in the polls lost ground, partly due to voter concerns about aligning with Trump’s agenda. In Canada, threats by the U.S. president to annex the country galvanized opposition, helping liberal candidate Mark Carney secure a victory.
Back in Europe, Trump’s influence continues to shape voter perceptions, even indirectly. Italian Prime Minister Meloni’s failed referendum on judicial reform has been partly attributed to the growing gap between her nationalist rhetoric and the economic consequences of her association with Trump. Similarly, British political figure Nigel Farage has expressed unease with Trump’s rhetoric, particularly his extreme statements regarding Iran.
Hungary offers another telling example. Viktor Orbán, long considered one of Trump’s closest allies in Europe, suffered a significant electoral defeat despite strong backing from figures within the U.S. administration. Analysts suggest that the attention from Washington may have distracted from domestic campaigning and undermined Orbán’s credibility as a defender of national interests.
For many observers, this highlights a deeper contradiction within the global far-right. These movements are rooted in nationalism and sovereignty, yet they rely on transnational alliances—particularly with the United States—that can undermine those very principles. As Nathalie Tocci of Italy’s Institute of International Affairs points out, such alliances are inherently fragile, as nationalist agendas often conflict with one another.
Spain’s Vox party illustrates the complexity of these dynamics. Unlike some of its European counterparts, Vox has maintained close ties with Trump’s administration, extending its influence into Latin America. However, this relationship is asymmetrical, with the Spanish party deriving more benefit—and facing greater risk—from the connection. Analysts suggest that Vox now finds itself constrained by Trump’s unpredictable decisions, particularly in the context of the Iran conflict.
Differences in political positioning also play a role. While parties like France’s National Rally are seeking broader appeal ahead of potential electoral victories, others like Vox may feel less pressure to distance themselves from Trump due to their current standing in national politics. In Germany, the Alternative for Germany is internally divided, with factions differing on their approach to the United States and the broader MAGA movement.
The evolving relationship between Trump and Europe’s far-right underscores a shifting political landscape. As his policies generate controversy and his global image declines, proximity to Trump is no longer a guaranteed asset. Instead, it has become a potential liability—one that can alienate voters and complicate political strategies.
For Europe’s nationalist movements, the challenge now is clear. If they hope to expand their influence and achieve electoral success, they may need to recalibrate their alliances and redefine their identity. Distancing themselves from Trump could prove not only prudent but necessary.
In this new reality, confrontation with the U.S. president may even offer political advantages. As analysts suggest, opposing Trump—once unthinkable for many of his European admirers—could now serve as a way to regain credibility and appeal to a broader electorate. The transformation is striking: a figure once seen as a powerful ally has, in many cases, become a toxic presence on the European political stage.
