EDITORIAL: Trump Addresses Congress — A Display of Power That Dreams of Eternity

The Favorite Issue, the Favorite Tool

If Trump had to choose a single issue to define his presidency, it would be immigration. Not the economy, not national defense, not foreign policy—immigration. It has been his political fuel since 2015, and his 2025 State of the Union address confirmed that nothing has changed. He devoted a considerable portion of his address to detailing the mass deportation operations launched since January 2025, touting the military deployment along the Mexican border, and presenting arrest and deportation figures as wartime victories.

The reality of these policies is far more complex than the triumphant picture he paints. Human rights organizations, immigration lawyers, and even some federal judges have documented cases of serious procedural violations, rushed deportations without individual case reviews, and detention conditions that raise serious questions under international law. These realities were not given a voice on the floor of Congress.

The Necessary Enemy

Trumpist rhetoric on immigration works because it identifies a recognizable enemy. In any populist narrative, an antagonist is required. For Trump, undocumented immigrants have played this role since the beginning of his political career. They are portrayed not as individuals with complex life stories, but as a threatening mass, a wave, an invasion—terms he has repeatedly used in this speech with a consistency that attests to their proven electoral effectiveness. This framing dehumanizes and oversimplifies. It transforms a complex social reality into an existential threat. And in this context, any policy, no matter how draconian, can be presented as a necessary response to an absolute emergency.

When a leader builds his narrative around a permanent enemy, one must ask what that narrative allows him to avoid explaining. The enemy takes up the space. The enemy diverts attention. The enemy absolves him of all responsibility for everything else.

The Doctrine of Aggressive Protectionism

Trump has presented his tariff policy as the cornerstone of his economic recovery. In his view—and in that of his supporters—tariffs are a tool of national power: they protect American jobs, force trading partners to negotiate on Washington’s terms, and bring back to American soil industries that globalization had relocated. This vision is consistent with the economic nationalism he has advocated for decades.

The problem—one that even his own economic advisers find hard to ignore—is that tariffs are a tax on imports—and this tax is ultimately paid by American businesses and American consumers, not by exporting countries. The 25% tariffs imposed on Canadian and Mexican imports in February 2025 sent shockwaves through North American supply chains, particularly in the automotive, steel, aluminum, and agri-food sectors. Factories suspended production. Orders were canceled. Prices began to rise on store shelves.

Canada in the Crosshairs

For Canadians following this rhetoric, the message is clear: Trump does not view Canada as an ally. He sees it as a competitor, a freeloader taking advantage of American generosity, and an economic adversary that needs to be reined in. His repeated statements about the possible annexation of Canada, his attacks on provincial premiers, his tariff threats—all of this is part of a strategy of maximum pressure aimed at reshaping the bilateral relationship on terms exclusively favorable to Washington. The State of the Union address did not soften this message. It confirmed it.

As a columnist who has been observing the Canada-U.S. relationship for years, I can tell you that what Trump describes as a “turnaround” for the United States looks, from this perspective, like a deliberate dismantling of decades of mutually beneficial economic cooperation. It is not a turnaround. It is sabotage.

Withdrawal from the Multilateral System

In his speech, Trump reaffirmed the doctrine that guides his vision of international relations: America First. In practice, this doctrine translates into a systematic distrust of multilateral institutions—the UN, NATO, the WTO, climate agreements—and a marked preference for bilateral negotiations where American power can be exercised without the constraints of collective consensus. He spoke of his supposed progress on the Ukraine-Russia and Middle East issues with the nonchalance of a man convinced that his mere presence at the table is enough to resolve conflicts that the rest of the world has failed to settle.

The reality is more nuanced. The negotiations on Ukraine have revealed an approach that deeply worries European allies: Trump seems willing to accept a settlement that would enshrine Russian territorial gains, which Kyiv and European capitals view as a capitulation in disguise. The pressure being exerted on NATO member countries to increase their military spending—while not entirely without merit—takes on a threatening tone that erodes confidence in America’s reliability as a guarantor of collective security.

The specter of geopolitical chaos

What worries serious geopolitical analysts most about the Trumpist approach to world affairs is the elevation of unpredictability to a method. Trump believes—and has explicitly stated on several occasions—that unpredictability is a strategic advantage. If your adversaries never know what you’re going to do, you keep them in a state of constant uncertainty. This logic may work in certain trade negotiations. Applied to international security, however, it creates structural instability. It encourages regional actors to take risks they would not have taken if the United States were a predictable power. It weakens deterrence.

Unpredictability is not a strategy. It is the absence of a strategy disguised as a posture. And when the world’s greatest military and economic power operates without a coherent guiding principle, the entire world bears the risk.

A president who presents himself as above the institutions

One of the most striking aspects of Trump’s address to Congress is his relationship with the institutions he is supposed to serve. He did not speak to Congress as a president who cooperates with the legislative branch. He spoke to it as a leader who informs his subordinates of what he has accomplished and what he intends to do. This stance is not new for Trump, but it has taken on a more pronounced dimension during his second term, in which he benefits from a Republican majority in Congress largely committed to his cause and a Supreme Court whose composition favors him.

The separation of powers—the fundamental pillar of American democracy since the 1787 Constitution—is under pressure it has not faced in decades. Presidential executive orders have multiplied at an unprecedented rate since January 2025, deliberately bypassing the legislative process. Several of these have been blocked by federal courts, triggering a confrontation between the executive and judicial branches that Trump does not hesitate to fuel publicly by attacking the judges who stand in his way.

The opposition silenced or rendered powerless

On the floor of Congress, Democratic lawmakers watched the speech with the quiet despair of people who know there is little they can do for the time being. Some displayed silent messages. Some refused to applaud. A few left the chamber at certain points. These are symbolic gestures, and Trump knows it. His speech was not addressed to them. It was directed at his voters, his donors, his movement. Congress was merely the backdrop. The real audience was elsewhere—in living rooms, kitchens, and bars across America, where people watched their president promise them that everything was getting better, that America was winning again.

There is something deeply troubling about a State of the Union address that deliberately ignores half the country. Democracy is not just an electoral system. It is also the obligation to govern for everyone, including those who did not vote for you. Trump does not seem to feel that obligation.

The Gradual Blurring of the Line Between the Man and the Office

There is a tradition in liberal democracies whereby the president embodies the office but does not confuse it with his own person. “I am the president” is different from “I am America.” Trump has long since erased that distinction. His 2025 State of the Union address is a particularly striking illustration of this: in his words, America’s successes are his personal successes, and America’s problems are the fault of his enemies. In this narrative, there is no reality independent of his own will. He is the recovery. Not the agent of the recovery—the recovery itself.

This is the narrative structure of the cult of personality. It is not unique to the right or the left—it runs through the political history of all regions. But when it takes root in the world’s leading democracy, it produces systemic effects that affect us all. The decisions of the occupant of the White House affect the stability of the dollar, collective security in Europe, global supply chains, and global climate policies. An American president who sees himself as infallible and irreplaceable is a global systemic risk.

The Base: A Block of Loyalty with No Apparent Weaknesses

What makes Trump politically invulnerable in the short term is the strength of his electoral base. Tens of millions of Americans watched this speech with pride and enthusiasm. To them, Trump says what no one else dared to say, does what no one else dared to do, and represents an America they recognize—and that recognizes them. Their attachment is not irrational in the sense that it defies all logic—it responds to a real logic of identity, culture, and economics that liberal elites have ignored for too long. But this loyalty comes at a cost: it shields Trump from accountability, from correcting mistakes, and from the reality that sets in when his policies produce effects opposite to those he promises.

Understanding Trump’s base does not mean absolving him. It means recognizing that his power is not based on a collective illusion, but on real, misdirected anger. That anger deserved a serious response. Instead, it got Trump.

A narrative of victory that leaves out the losers

Grand narratives of economic recovery have this in common: they focus on the winners and ignore the losers. Trump’s address to Congress celebrated job creation in traditional industries—manufacturing, fossil fuels, and construction. He cited reduced immigration as a victory for American workers. What he didn’t mention: the women losing reproductive rights in states where restrictive laws have been proliferating since the Dobbs ruling. The LGBTQ+ communities targeted by a series of federal executive orders since January 2025. Black and Latino Americans whose programs providing access to education and employment are being methodically dismantled in the name of combating what the administration calls equity and diversity policies.

These omissions are not oversights. They are deliberate political choices. The Trump coalition—white, rural, predominantly male, evangelical—has its victories. The rest of America has its losses. And in a speech designed to celebrate, there is no room for the losers.

The Rhetoric of Unity to Better Divide

Trump concluded several passages of his speech with calls for national unity—a classic trope of the genre. “We are one nation.” “Together, we will rebuild.” ” These phrases ring hollow when the rest of the speech is built on identifying internal enemies—the liberal elites, the mainstream media, government officials who resist his policies, judges who block his executive orders. You cannot simultaneously call for unity and build your power on division. This contradiction lies at the heart of Trumpist politics: it is embraced, never acknowledged.

The unity proclaimed in presidential speeches is meaningful only if it is followed by policies that bring it to life. When words say “together” and actions say “them against us,” it is the actions that speak the truth.

Trump and the War Europe Refuses to Lose

On the issue of Ukraine, Trump made remarks that sounded like a warning to European allies. He presented his diplomatic efforts with Vladimir Putin as a courageous peace initiative that his predecessors had not dared to undertake. He suggested that the war could end quickly if the parties accepted his terms. What he did not say explicitly—but what his previous positions and statements imply—is that these terms would likely include some form of recognition of Russia’s territorial gains in eastern Ukraine and Crimea.

For Ukrainians, for Poles, for the Baltic states, for all those living in the shadow of Russian military power, this approach is not diplomacy. It is capitulation masquerading as pragmatism. It sends a devastating signal: aggressors who persist long enough can negotiate the legitimization of their gains. It undermines the very logic of deterrence upon which European collective security has rested since 1945.

NATO Under Pressure: The Widening Rift

Trump has reiterated his criticism of NATO allies that do not spend 2% of their GDP on defense. In substance, this demand is legitimate—the principle has existed for years and has been reaffirmed at successive NATO summits. However, the way Trump frames this demand—as a threat to withdraw U.S. protection if the quotas are not met—undermines confidence in the strength of U.S. commitments. A military alliance that operates on the basis of financial coercion rather than shared strategic solidarity is an alliance whose credibility is crumbling.

One can desire peace in Ukraine without accepting a peace that rewards aggression. The distinction is not subtle. It is fundamental. And Trump, in his speech, chose to ignore it.

The Enemy of the People Is Back

Trump didn’t miss the opportunity, in his State of the Union address, to take aim at the mainstream media. It’s a classic move in his repertoire, as predictable as the applause from his supporters that follows. Journalists are liars, major news organizations are mouthpieces for liberal propaganda, and fake news comes from the mainstream press—not from him. This narrative, repeated tirelessly since 2015, has had a lasting impact on public trust in the media—trust that was already weakened by economic changes in the industry and by actual mistakes made by some news organizations.

The problem with this rhetoric is not that it identifies real media failures—there are some, and they deserve criticism. The problem is that it serves to preemptively discredit all fact-checking, all verification, and all fact-based challenges. If all media outlets lie, then the only reliable source of truth is Trump himself. This is the logic of informational authoritarianism: controlling reality by discrediting those who have the tools to document it.

Fact-checking as an act of civic resistance

In the face of this offensive, fact-checking organizations—PolitiFact, FactCheck.org, and the fact-checking teams at The Washington Post and The New York Times—continue to meticulously document the gap between what Trump says and what the data shows. This work is essential. It doesn’t convince those who are already convinced—the tribalization of the information landscape has progressed too far for that. But it serves as an archive, a record, and a documented counterweight to the Trump administration’s constant rewriting of reality. That is why this administration seeks to weaken it, discredit it, and deprive it of public funding wherever possible.

The truth is not just one opinion among many. An inaccurate economic figure remains inaccurate, no matter how many times it is repeated from the presidential podium. Defending this distinction—between what is true and what is merely asserted—is one of the most important civic acts of our time.

The Threat Wearing a Presidential Suit

For Canadians, this State of the Union address deserves special attention because it confirms what signs over the past few months had already indicated: Trump views Canada as a problem to be solved, not as a partner to be treated with care. Tariffs, statements about annexation, attacks on Canadian leaders, and pressure on issues such as aluminum, steel, dairy products, and softwood lumber—all of this paints a coherent picture of a strategy aimed at restructuring the bilateral relationship on terms that are exclusively advantageous to Washington.

Canada must respond to this reality with clarity and without naivety. The response cannot be purely defensive—retreating into a shell, negotiating under pressure, or accepting concessions that would merely shift the problem elsewhere. It must be strategic: diversifying trade partnerships, strengthening agreements with Europe and Pacific nations, investing in domestic industrial capacity, and above all, building a domestic political consensus that transcends partisan divisions to defend the country’s fundamental interests.

The Lesson We Refuse to Learn

Every time Trump addresses Congress, some Canadian observers hope that the speech will offer signs of conciliation, overtures, or nuance. This speech offered none of that. There won’t be any. Trump is consistent—that is one of his most dangerous qualities. He does what he says. He says what he believes. And what he believes is that Canada has taken advantage of American generosity for too long and that it is time to rebalance the relationship by force. To continue hoping for a sudden shift toward moderation is to waste precious time that Canada should be using to prepare.

Canada needs a strategy, not therapy. Not sessions on understanding Trumpist psychology, but a concrete, costed, politically courageous plan to navigate a bilateral relationship that has fundamentally changed in nature.

What the curtain reveals when it falls

The State of the Union address ends. The applause dies down. The cameras go dark. Trump returns to the White House. And reality reasserts itself—relentless, indifferent to rhetoric, promises, and superlatives. American families are paying more for groceries because of tariffs. Ukrainians are dying in the trenches while Washington explores diplomatic arrangements that could betray them. Immigrants fear for their future in a country they helped build. NATO allies question the reliability of a partner whose president speaks of abandoning them as a negotiable option.

Trump’s historic turnaround, if it exists, is not yet reflected in the available economic or geopolitical data. What is measurable, however, is the scale of the disruption he is causing—in institutions, in alliances, in the American social fabric, and in the trust of international partners. Disruption can be creative. It can also be simply destructive. History will be the judge. But in the meantime, the present is unfolding, and its consequences are real for millions of people who had no say in this narrative.

The Question That Remains

Ultimately, this State of the Union address raises a question that Trump himself did not ask, but which runs through everything he says: Who is this economic recovery for? For the shareholders whose portfolios have benefited from deregulation? For the fossil fuel industries freed from environmental constraints? For the electoral base that finally feels recognized and defended? These beneficiaries exist. Their satisfaction is real. But a national policy is not judged solely by the winners it produces—it is also judged by the losers it creates, the risks it generates, and the debts it accumulates for future generations. On these points, Trump’s address remained stubbornly silent.

A historic recovery that leaves half the country behind, undermines its allies, treats the truth like a commodity, and concentrates power in a single pair of hands—that is not a recovery. It is a gamble. And the stakes are others’ lives.

What Remains to Be Done

Faced with this reality, inaction is not an option—neither for American citizens who still believe in institutional checks and balances, nor for allies and partners around the world who have a stake in ensuring that American democracy remains functional. Documenting, analyzing, and describing what is happening—without hyperbole but without complacency—is the contribution that those with access to a platform for expression can make. This text is one such attempt. Others will follow, as long as the situation continues to evolve and the stakes continue to demand that we speak about it with the greatest possible clarity.

Signed, Jacques Pj Provost