As student protests have raged through France, with some hijacked by looters, headlines proclaimed that the disorder was a gift to far-right presidential candidate Marine Le Pen. Le Pen’s bread and butter has always been law and order, and she quickly seized the moment, noting that “In six months, the French people will be able to choose a different path—one of authority and restored security.”

Watching from across the Atlantic, U.S. President Donald Trump has not missed the opportunity to blame the unrest on “out of control mass migration,” echoing Le Pen. Trump continues to make Europe a favored target, repeating his administration’s warnings about “civilizational erasure” in Europe and excoriating it for being a mirror of exactly what he does not want the United States to be: heavily regulated, multicultural, and pluralist. Le Pen rarely mentions the American president these days, but she shares with him—and other rising European far-right parties—an openly hostile approach toward the European Union.

Trump and his team have repeatedly said that Europe needs “tough love,” and they continue to prod and provoke Europe back to its ancient greatness, taking inspiration from Trump’s “America First” policies. Nominally, Trump administration officials seem to want to build a fraternity of national chauvinist illiberal governments—encouraging Europeans to adopt a similar every-country-for-itself approach to Trump’s own.

But can America First actually be replicated outside America, and can far-right forces in Europe advance a collective America First–like agenda? Although the U.S. administration strategy to influence European politics is a threat to European democracy, the risk for Europeans is to get wrapped up in ideological debates about illiberalism without recognizing the nefarious power play of an external actor seeking to divide them.

A Plan to Divide and Conquer  

The Trump administration’s ideological battle goes far beyond campaign slogans highlighting the state of European economies and societies. It is a deliberate playbook with three overlapping goals: getting favored European ideological politicians and parties into power, pushing European governments and the EU to adopt policies aligned with the America First agenda, and weakening the EU’s normative and economic power by supporting anti-European forces. Here’s the part that some Europeans, including the far right itself, don’t seem to have caught on to: All three of these goals add up to pushing Europe toward a new reality where, whether by intent or effect, the United States can maximize its leverage over individual member states. The playbook’s tools include denigration of the EU, funding opportunities for nationalist and anti-establishment organizations through State Department grants, public endorsements of politicians and parties, and economic and administrative pressure (such as a visa restriction policy for people responsible for what the administration views as censorship of Americans). 

Some European far-right parties’ agendas fit neatly into this playbook. For example, the fight against illegal immigration, the rejection of identity politics, and the anti-regulation agenda closely align with Trump’s political priorities and attacks on the European Union, whose regulations are perceived by the U.S. administration as discriminatory toward U.S. companies. In her recent interview with the Economist, far-right German leader Alice Weidel leaned into her skepticism toward supranational institutions, and her support for economic nationalism, and stricter border control and expulsion of illegal migrants.  

The Trump administration’s messages diffused through its playbook have been seen by many in Europe as a moral threat to the core principles of the EU, as they empower far-right parties that directly threaten European democratic foundations. But the threat is also a strategic one, because there’s no viable way for Poland or Germany or France to go it alone in 2026.

Many of the far-right parties’ agendas are nationally focused and rarely include proactive cooperation with other entities, as that often implies compromise on sovereignty.  But the reality is that their countries are not superpowers, and their bandwidth to act unilaterally for self-interest is substantially more limited than that of the United States—because of their size, geographic positions, and the collective institutions they are part of.

To implement an analogue of the America First agenda in their own countries, these parties have to work together, including through EU institutions. They cannot do this unilaterally because no country has a sustainable upper hand on others, and existing interconnections between economies does not allow decoupling. For example, European countries cannot impose tariffs on one another, nor can they face common challenges such as illegal immigration without some coordination. Domestically, they can promote an illiberal agenda, but when it comes to economic and security issues, their individual capabilities and leverage are insignificant compared both to America’s and to the EU as a whole. The example of the UK—as one of the largest economies in Europe—provides a cautionary tale: The economic fallout began almost as soon as Brexit went into effect, and the UK public now widely regards the move as a mistake. If the UK can’t go it alone, smaller countries should be skeptical of their own abilities to do so.

Indeed, previously, many European far-right parties’ goals included leaving the EU or NATO. In recent years, some have renounced this goal, instead shifting to changing the institutions from within. They may have realized these limitations but also understood how the European Union can allow them to amplify their power and advocate for their interests. Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni did just this by siding with Brussels when Washington threatened tariffs on EU products—despite her ideological affinity with American conservatives on some social issues.

So far, some of these parties have been able to work together in the European Parliament through the so-called Venezuela majority, but only by cozying up with the center-right coalition on issues such as toughening migration rules and undercutting green and deforestation regulations. But an EU in which right-wing nationalism is seen as a legitimate formula for member-state policies is bound to be entangled in divisions, including among those on the right. Divisions persist on several issues: On budget, France’s far right is at odds with Poland and Romania, and economic protectionism (a tenet of America First) may hinder a coordinated European strategy. EU enlargement is an even more heated battleground, with certain countries’ far-right parties favoring accession in some cases and opposing others, while other countries reject enlargement in all cases.

Other key issues, such as Russia and immigration, could eventually widen gaps between far-right leaders emerging in Europe. Trump and several European populist parties from both the left and the right have signaled their desire to “reengage” with Moscow and lift sanctions, while for Eastern Europeans, Russia remains an existential threat. While countering illegal immigration in the EU is a strong common trend, clashes may occur between frontline countries on how to distribute the burden of repatriation.  

Signs of Backfiring

Despite the continued rise of the far right in Europe, the America First playbook has been facing greater pushback. Much of this backlash has stemmed from perceptions of threats to sovereignty, therefore producing the opposite effect.

In Hungary, far-right Prime Minister Viktor Orbán did not win reelection, despite U.S. Vice President JD Vance’s direct endorsement in Budapest. In Romania, the Trump-loving far-right candidate George Simion lost to the centrist Nicușor Dan. And the far right is not keen to advertise its ties to Trump, often seeking to distance itself from the unpopular American president. After the U.S. capture of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, Le Pen was among the first European leaders to condemn Washington for violating international law, invoking a sovereignty that is “never negotiable.” Her protégé, Jordan Bardella, rarely mentions Trump at all these days, instead preferring to cite American culture war figures such as Charlie Kirk.

Official pushback from governing parties also leaned into the sovereignty argument. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz openly warned “the American government or institutions close to the government” not to interfere in German elections. French Foreign Affairs Minister Jean-Noël Barrot posted on social media that “France will not tolerate any attempt at foreign interference in their electoral processes, regardless of where it comes from.” Recently, the State Department officially backpedaled on supporting parties in France amid concerns of conflict with a French legislative proposal that would harden penalties for online disinformation and foreign interference in democratic processes.  

The Trap of Sovereignty

America First has played an undeniable role in energizing European nationalist parties. For example, in Poland, Trump endorsed conservative presidential candidate Karol Nawrocki and later linked Nawrocki’s victory to the announcement of 5,000 more U.S. troops to be stationed in Poland. In Germany, Elon Musk’s endorsement of Weidel massively amplified the party’s outreach on social media. As the French elections approach, and protests spread to other countries such as Italy and Spain, anti-establishment sentiment and political polarization create a fertile ground for the spread of America First–like messages, fueling destruction and isolation rather than complicated collective solutions.

Contradictions in the practical implications of an America First–style approach for European countries also contribute to a scattered agenda. In other words, these movements can hold pro-life rallies, rant about “woke decadence,” and proclaim a shared civilizational mission, just as Trump does. But the illusion of more sovereignty inspired by America First will instead bring much-weakened leverage, a more isolated continent, and ultimately leave each country’s self-interest severely compromised. If Europe wanted to take a real lesson from Trump’s hardball approach to international politics, the goal would not be to foster an “illiberal international” bouquet made up of movements and governments committed to Germany First, Slovakia First, Poland First, France First, Netherlands First, and so on—that would operate under the illusion of reproducing what Trump did in the United States. Although reforms addressing voters’ concerns—including those of the far-right—ought to be taken into account, responding individually will further undermine prosperity.

Instead, all parties in Europe should see this as an opportunity to use the continent’s collective weight to push back and impose costs on aggressive behaviors, including from the United States, that threaten its sovereignty—putting Europe, not America, first.

The author wishes to thank Zoe Raptis for research assistance.