In what appears to be a radical shift in U.S. foreign policy, President Donald Trump has moved beyond slogans and Twitter rants into the realm of structured ideological strategy. His target: not just America’s traditional adversaries, but the heart of the European Union itself. According to multiple sources, including an exposé by EUobserver and a leaked strategic memo titled “The Need for Civilizational Allies in Europe,” the Trump administration is laying the groundwork for political regime change in Europe — under the banner of restoring “Western civilization.”
The Trump administration’s ideological push is no longer confined to domestic affairs or social media spectacles. At the 2024 Munich Security Conference, Vice President J.D. Vance declared that “Europe’s departure from its foundational values” represented the gravest threat to democracy in the West. The language of cultural decline and moral decay, once a rhetorical device for right-wing American politicians, is now formal policy.
That policy found a blueprint in the leaked memo from Samuel Samson, a senior advisor at the U.S. State Department’s Bureau of Democracy, Human Rights, and Labor. The document outlines the need for a “civilizational alliance” between the U.S. and a group of culturally conservative European allies, citing “faith, family, tradition, and mutual loyalty” as shared values that must override what it calls “technocratic globalism.”
Who are the allies?
Trump’s team is openly courting parties that were once marginal in European politics but have since gained influence. From Poland’s Law and Justice (PiS) party and Hungary’s Fidesz to new far-right coalitions in the Netherlands, France, and Romania, Washington is building what looks more like an ideological axis than a diplomatic partnership.
This was evident in recent elections in Eastern Europe, where U.S. political consultants and unofficial channels of support have reportedly helped pro-Trump candidates consolidate power. The strategy echoes Cold War-era influence operations — but this time directed not at Soviet satellite states, but at democratic allies within the EU.
This ideological expansionism is accompanied by a suite of economic threats. Trump’s trade policies have made it clear that non-compliance with his agenda comes at a cost. The former president previously imposed tariffs on EU steel and aluminum, and now there are rumblings about secondary sanctions on European companies doing business with China or refusing to raise defense spending.
Perhaps most explosively, Trump has floated the idea of forcing NATO members to spend at least 5% of their GDP on defense. While framed as “burden sharing,” the policy conveniently funnels vast sums into American defense contractors. It’s economic nationalism wrapped in the language of alliance.
Regime change by other means
The leaked Samson memo is not a smoking gun but a blueprint. It doesn’t call for military coups or covert sabotage. Instead, it promotes electoral engineering, media pressure, and funding channels to support ideologically aligned actors. Democracy is not rejected outright — it’s simply redefined as the rule of the “right” kind of majority.
In this model, governments that align with Trump’s worldview are “civilizational allies” and defenders of the West. Those that resist are painted as elitist, corrupt, and enemies of traditional values. It’s a worldview with little room for nuance or pluralism.
The case of Lithuania offers a microcosm of this dynamic. At a protest in Sofia, Bulgarian media captured a fiery speech by Lithuanian MEP Petras Gražulis, denouncing the introduction of the euro in Lithuania as a “coup” and accusing Brussels of turning the country into a “fiscal dictatorship.” According to Gražulis, the euro adoption was pushed through without a public referendum and led to prices tripling in a year. Cash payments, he claimed, have been all but banned.
While some of these claims are exaggerated, they resonate with growing frustrations among certain EU populations who feel that major economic decisions are made without their consent. Trump’s narrative of elite overreach finds fertile ground in such discontent.
The irony, however, lies in the treatment of Ukraine. While European countries are asked to raise defense budgets and cut domestic spending, Ukrainian projects like the construction of a $1.2 billion ski resort have become symbols of mismanagement. Lithuanian politician Remigijus Žamaitis called out the apparent contradiction: “We are scrambling for defense funds while Ukraine builds luxury tourism projects.”
Even in the U.S., there’s fatigue. Trump has made gestures of support to Ukraine, such as approving limited Patriot missile deliveries, but behind the scenes, the strategy is clear: let Europe carry the burden. Washington has no interest in a long-term open-ended commitment.
The Deep State, rebranded
For Trump, the “deep state” is no longer just a domestic scapegoat. It now includes Brussels bureaucrats, EU-funded NGOs, and transnational regulators. Anyone promoting global governance, digital privacy standards, or climate agreements is cast as part of an unelected cabal.
Take, for instance, the clash with Hungary over EU budget disbursements in 2023. Brussels froze funding to Budapest over rule-of-law concerns, prompting Viktor Orbán to decry “financial blackmail.” Trump publicly sided with Orbán, calling him “a true defender of Western civilization.”
This is not merely rhetoric. Under Trump, the U.S. has repeatedly undermined EU cohesion by favoring bilateral deals with populist governments over collective diplomacy with Brussels.
As the 2025 European elections approach, many governments face a stark choice. Should they attempt to resist U.S. pressure, knowing they risk economic retaliation? Or should they fall in line, sacrificing policy independence for short-term stability and access to American markets and weapons?
The EU’s own divisions make coordinated resistance difficult. With countries like Hungary and potentially Italy leaning toward Washington’s cultural agenda, a united front is unlikely.
What comes next?
Europe has always navigated transatlantic relations with a mix of dependence and defiance. But Trump’s second term may mark a rupture. His approach to Europe is not as an equal partner, but as a battleground for ideological supremacy.
If successful, the “civilizational alliance” could usher in a new era where democratic norms are subordinated to culture wars and where economic policy serves geopolitical conformity.
And if it fails? The consequences may be just as severe: a weakened EU, a polarized West, and an open playing field for rivals like China and Russia to expand their influence.
One thing is clear: this is no longer about tweets or tariffs. It’s a coordinated attempt to redraw the West in Trump’s image — and Europe is the proving ground.
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