Published on: Mon, 22 Jun 2026 08:17:24 GMT
Original Story: The Trump-loving right wins Colombia’s presidency – The Economist

Global MAGA: Loyalty Tests Know No Borders

Well, isn’t this just peachy? Another day, another headline confirming that the geopolitical landscape is less about nuanced policy and more about which flavor of “right-wing populist” is currently trending on the global stage. According to *The Economist* (a publication that, bless its heart, still tries to make sense of things), the “Trump-loving right” has apparently snagged the presidency in Colombia. Because, you know, what the world really needed was another data point to confirm that the brand of politics that broke America’s collective brain is now an export commodity. It’s like finding out that Pumpkin Spice Lattes have colonized the Amazon. Unexpected, slightly unsettling, and you just know someone, somewhere, is thrilled.

For those of us who thought “America First” meant, well, *America First*, it’s increasingly clear that it actually meant “America First… unless a foreign election goes our way, in which case it’s actually ‘America First’s ideological global allies, first-ish.'” The irony, as always, is so thick you could spread it on toast, though I wouldn’t recommend it for breakfast. Tastes like cognitive dissonance.

The Globalist Paradox: You Say “America First,” We See “Global MAGA”

A New World Order, Same Old Dog Whistles

Let’s be brutally honest: the phrase “Trump-loving right” isn’t exactly a policy descriptor. It’s a vibe. It’s a brand. It’s an aesthetic. It implies a certain rejection of established norms, a healthy dose of nationalism, a penchant for strongman rhetoric, and often, an allergic reaction to anything that smells remotely like “globalism” – unless, of course, that globalism is the global spread of *their* particular brand of anti-globalism. Confused yet? Good, that’s the point. It keeps the rest of us on our toes while the true believers nod along.

This Colombian win isn’t just about Colombia; it’s another notch on the belt for a global movement that views itself as a vanguard against… well, against whatever they decide to be against that particular Tuesday. It’s a testament to the power of a political template that, despite its origins in a very specific American context, has proven remarkably adaptable to diverse national landscapes. From Brazil to Hungary, and now, apparently, to the Andean peaks, the playbook seems depressingly consistent: harness popular discontent, vilify external (or internal) “elites,” promise a return to some imagined past glory, and absolutely, positively, never apologize. It’s like a franchise model for political disruption, complete with identical menu items, just different regional accents.

The Loyalty Test: Are You With Us, Or Are You… Not?

The Unspoken Litmus Test of the 21st Century

This is where the “Loyalty Test” category really shines. In this brave new world, international relations aren’t solely about trade agreements or mutual defense pacts anymore. Oh no, that’s far too pedestrian. Now, it’s about ideological alignment. Are you on team “populist nationalist,” or are you one of those squishy “globalist elites” who still thinks multilateral institutions serve a purpose beyond being punching bags? Leaders are increasingly categorized not just by their country, but by their perceived fealty to this particular ideological current.

It’s not just about whether you admire Donald J. Trump (though that certainly helps, like a secret handshake). It’s about whether you speak the language, adopt the posture, and echo the grievances that define this particular strain of the right. It’s a litmus test of allegiance, where deviation from the script is met with swift condemnation, and adherence is rewarded with effusive praise and invitations to Mar-a-Lago. Because nothing says “serious foreign policy” like a golf club summit, right?

Trump’s Two-Tiered Foreign Policy: Non-Intervention…ish

Here’s where the rubber meets the road, or more accurately, where the hypocrisy hits you square in the face. Remember circa 2016? Our erstwhile Commander-in-Chief-to-be was practically frothing at the mouth about “globalists” and the perils of American interventionism. He lambasted previous administrations for their nation-building escapades and promised an “America First” foreign policy that would prioritize domestic concerns and avoid costly foreign entanglements. The rhetoric was clear: less meddling, more focusing on our own backyard. It sounded, to some, like a refreshing departure from decades of interventionist foreign policy. The message was, essentially, “we’re not here to tell other countries how to run their show.”

Except, of course, when we absolutely are. Or at least, when there’s an opportunity to crow about a victory for “our side.” Fast forward to 2018, and then into his presidency, and watch that non-interventionist stance perform a spectacular U-turn whenever a populist strongman aligned with his brand rose to power. Take, for instance, his very public and enthusiastic embrace of Jair Bolsonaro after the Brazilian presidential election in October 2018. Trump wasn’t just acknowledging the outcome; he was practically doing the Macarena over it. He called Bolsonaro a “great man” and a “strong leader,” even as concerns mounted about Bolsonaro’s anti-democratic rhetoric, environmental policies, and human rights record. There was no hand-wringing about “nation-building” then, no calls for Brazil to figure out its own path. Just a full-throated cheer for a kindred spirit.

This wasn’t an isolated incident. From Hungary’s Viktor Orbán to the Philippines’ Rodrigo Duterte, Trump consistently lauded leaders who embodied his own populist, nationalist ideals, often overlooking (or actively defending) their authoritarian tendencies or challenges to democratic institutions. The “America First” doctrine, which supposedly meant looking inward and avoiding foreign entanglements, quickly morphed into “America First’s Ideological Allies First.” It seems non-interventionism was just a convenient talking point until a “Trump-loving” government came along. Then, it became an international ideological pep rally. The loyalty test, it turns out, applies not just to domestic figures, but to anyone with a foreign passport who can parrot the right talking points.

The Echo Chamber Effect: When Elections Are Just Validation

International Affairs as a Reality TV Show

What’s truly fascinating (and by “fascinating,” I mean “soul-crushing”) is how these international electoral outcomes are now framed. They’re not just about the specific socio-political context of Colombia, Brazil, or Hungary. Oh no. They are presented as cosmic validation for the global populist movement. Each win is another episode in the ongoing saga of “The People vs. The Elites,” starring a rotating cast of characters who all seem to have read the same script. The complexities of local politics are reduced to a binary: either the good guys (our guys) won, or the bad guys (the globalist cabal) cheated. There’s rarely an in-between.

It turns international affairs into a giant, high-stakes reality TV show, where the “audience” (the global populist base) tunes in to see if their team is winning. And when a “Trump-loving right” candidate snags a victory, it’s not just a win for that country; it’s a win for the entire brand. It’s a signal that the movement has legs, that the “silent majority” is rising everywhere, and that the “elites” are, once again, proven wrong. The actual impact on the average Colombian citizen? Secondary, apparently, to the ideological scoreboard.

What Does “Trump-Loving” Even Mean Anymore?

The Brand, The Man, The Movement

It’s worth pausing to consider what “Trump-loving” actually signifies in this context. Is it literal adoration of the man himself? Perhaps for some, sure. But more broadly, it’s shorthand for a particular political disposition: anti-establishment sentiment, often nationalistic, skeptical of international institutions (like the UN or WHO), prone to “culture war” rhetoric, and generally, a rejection of what’s perceived as liberal globalism. It’s less about specific policy prescriptions and more about a general mood of grievance and a desire for disruption.

So, when Colombia votes in a “Trump-loving right” leader, it’s not necessarily because they’re obsessed with Mar-a-Lago or believe the 2020 election was rigged. It’s more likely that the Colombian political landscape had its own version of economic anxieties, cultural resentments, and a general exhaustion with the status quo, which found expression in a candidate who, either explicitly or implicitly, tapped into that global populist template. The loyalty, then, isn’t just to a person, but to an entire ideological ecosystem. And apparently, that ecosystem is thriving, much to the chagrin of anyone who thought 2016 was a one-off anomaly.