I just want their loyalty.
As President Trump travels to Ankara for a NATO summit, the seventy-year-old alliance finds itself once again navigating the tension between collective security and the temperament of its most powerful member. European nations arrive bearing tribute — billions in new defense spending and Ukraine aid — hoping that numbers rendered in gold-lettered presentations will satisfy demands that are, at their core, about deference rather than dollars. What unfolds in Turkey will reveal whether an alliance built on shared values can endure when its anchor nation measures loyalty in flattery, and whether the theater of summitry can substitute, at least for now, for the substance of strategy.
- Trump arrives in Ankara having spent weeks publicly fuming about NATO's ingratitude, threatening to skip the summit entirely unless Erdogan's hosting gave him reason to attend.
- European allies are scrambling to present $139 billion in new defense spending and $70 billion in Ukraine aid as a kind of golden offering, hoping spectacle will forestall disruption.
- Beneath the pageantry, real fractures deepen — U.S. peace envoys are focused on Iran rather than Ukraine, a Russian-threat strategy has been quietly shelved, and Eastern European nations fear Washington is quietly withdrawing its commitment to their defense.
- Trump's mood upon landing — after a punishing week of travel including a 3:30 a.m. return from Mount Rushmore — may determine more about the summit's outcome than any prepared agenda.
- Mark Rutte, the alliance's designated diplomat-in-chief, stands ready to perform whatever role is required, from flattering father-figure comparisons to behind-the-scenes damage control, as allies brace for a summit that could stabilize or calamitously unravel.
President Trump departs Monday for Ankara, where a carefully compressed NATO summit schedule reflects allied diplomats' quiet hope that brevity will limit the damage. He meets Turkish President Erdogan on Tuesday evening, joins NATO leaders for dinner, and sits down for the main session Wednesday morning — a meeting kept deliberately short — before separate talks with Ukrainian President Zelensky and Syrian President al-Sharaa.
For two decades Trump has viewed NATO as a system that exploits American generosity, and his second term has only deepened that conviction. He threatened to seize Greenland. His Iran strikes drew European criticism. He told Secretary General Mark Rutte he would skip the summit entirely if not for Erdogan's hosting, and when asked what he wanted from allies, his answer was simple: loyalty. Rutte responded by preparing what he calls the 'Trump trillion' — a presentation in gold Art of the Deal lettering cataloguing European defense increases. At last year's summit in the Netherlands, Rutte called Trump 'daddy,' and the White House turned the moment into a viral video set to Usher. A senior White House official noted, with apparent sincerity, that the president 'always has fun at NATO.'
The fun carries real stakes. Poland was promised 5,000 additional U.S. troops after its president was deemed sufficiently loyal. German Chancellor Merz faced weeks of public criticism after questioning Trump's Iran strategy in front of schoolchildren. Trump has begun and ended days with angry posts about NATO spending, yet behind the bluster, officials acknowledge he uses these summits to test how leaders respond to pressure.
NATO officials do not expect a withdrawal threat this year, but they know Trump likes to surprise, and much will depend on his mood after an exhausting week of travel — including a late-night return from Mount Rushmore and a rally on the National Mall in sweltering heat. Analysts warn that European leaders also face domestic pressure to be seen standing up to him, raising the risk of a more combustible dynamic.
The alliance arrives armed with numbers: $139 billion in additional European and Canadian defense spending, billions in weapons deals, and a roughly $70 billion Ukraine aid pledge — with Washington not participating but, crucially, no longer obstructing the language. Yet the deeper strategic picture is troubled. U.S. peace envoys Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner have been consumed by Iran. Work on a NATO strategy for responding to Russian threats has been quietly shelved. And Eastern European nations bordering Russia trust Washington more than Paris or Berlin to defend them, even as some Western European governments have begun coordinating with Pentagon planners on a potential U.S. military drawdown.
Even among allies sympathetic to Trump, tensions flicker. Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, a far-right leader aligned with many of his positions, recently drew a meme from Trump on Truth Social mocking her after Italy resisted allowing its bases to be used against Iran. The post rippled through the Italian press and unsettled her coalition. A senior NATO diplomat captured the mood precisely: optimistic that leaders understand what is at stake, but unable to rule out disruption — and grateful, in either case, that Mark Rutte will be there to smooth things over.
President Trump is heading to Turkey this week for a NATO summit, and the alliance is bracing itself. After a week of Fourth of July celebrations, he departs Monday for Ankara, where he will meet with Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan on Tuesday evening before sitting down with fellow NATO leaders for dinner. The substantive meeting is scheduled for Wednesday morning—deliberately kept short by diplomats hoping to minimize disruptions—followed by separate meetings with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky and Syrian President Ahmed al-Sharaa before Trump returns to Washington.
For two decades, Trump has viewed NATO with suspicion, arguing that the post-World War II alliance created to counter Soviet power has exploited American generosity. Now deep into his second term, he has grown comfortable with the theater of these gatherings, according to his associates, treating them as stages for threats and demands while watching allied leaders scramble to appease him. His skepticism has only hardened. He threatened to seize Greenland in January. His attack on Iran sent energy prices spiking and earned him criticism from European allies who questioned his strategy. He has fumed that Europe did not do enough to support American interests. And he has renewed complaints about defense spending, even as his pressure has successfully driven substantial increases.
Trump told NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte last month that he would skip the summit entirely if not for Erdogan's hosting. When asked what he wanted from allies, he was direct: loyalty. Rutte responded by preparing what he called the "Trump trillion"—a presentation with golden, Art of the Deal-style lettering showcasing increases in European defense spending over the past decade. The secretary general has learned to work the room. At last year's summit in the Netherlands, he called Trump "daddy," comparing him to a father who must use authority to stop children from fighting. The White House amplified the comment with a viral video edit set to Usher's "Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home)." A senior White House official later said the president "always has fun at NATO, contrary to what people think."
But the fun comes with real consequences. Trump has rewarded leaders he perceives as friends—Polish President Karol Nawrocki's country was promised 5,000 additional U.S. troops—while moving to punish those he views as insufficiently deferential. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz faced weeks of open criticism after questioning Trump's Iran strategy during a public conversation with schoolchildren. The president began and ended one recent day with angry posts about NATO, declaring that "the United States spends more money on NATO than any other country, by far, to protect them, without getting any benefit from so doing." Yet behind the public bluster, the White House official acknowledged, Trump sees these summits as opportunities to impose pressure, leaning into his tough-guy persona to see how leaders respond.
NATO officials do not expect Trump to threaten withdrawal this year, as he did in 2018, but they know he likes to surprise. Much will depend on his mood when he lands in Turkey—arriving on what is expected to be his first international trip aboard a refurbished luxury Boeing 747 that he pushed Qatar to provide as Air Force One. One senior European diplomat fretted that Trump would arrive exhausted and angry after a grueling week of travel, including a 3:30 a.m. Saturday return from Mount Rushmore and a rally on the National Mall in sweltering heat. Max Bergmann, an expert on U.S.-Europe relations at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, warned that Europeans are "nervous that the way [Trump] feels about NATO is that this is not fundamentally in U.S. interests," making the summit potentially "more calamitous," especially as European leaders face domestic pressure to be seen standing up to him.
NATO officials are arriving armed with numbers designed to appeal to Trump's priorities. They will trumpet an extra $139 billion spent on defense by European allies and Canada last year. They plan to make a show of signing billions of dollars in weapons deals and letters of intent. They are negotiating a pledge of about $70 billion in military aid for Ukraine for this year and next, to be announced at the summit—with Washington not participating but, notably, not opposing the language, a shift from its sometimes obstructive stance last year. Yet core security issues have been overshadowed by Trump's disputes with the alliance. Ukraine and Russia have stepped up attacks on each other in recent weeks, but U.S. efforts to mediate a peace deal have stalled. Trump's peace envoys, Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner, have focused on Iran, and the White House has not empowered other officials to engage. The alliance has shelved work on a strategy for responding to Russian threats, a consequence, European diplomats say, of White House caution about portraying Moscow as an adversary.
European leaders are preparing to declare their commitment to assume greater responsibility for the continent's defense—a message many have aligned with the Trump administration's intent to pull U.S. resources. But policymakers in France and Germany have pressed their American counterparts to coordinate any military drawdown. Some Western European nations have begun working with Pentagon planners on an orderly handover. Yet the effort is creating strains. Mark Rutte is still trying to preserve a robust U.S. presence in Europe. And many policymakers in countries bordering Russia trust Washington more than France and Germany to defend them in a war with Moscow, believing that old American instincts to defend democracies would prevail, along with pressure from hawkish Republican lawmakers. A senior NATO diplomat acknowledged a sense of optimism ahead of the summit but also recognition that "things can derail." The diplomat pointed to Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, a far-right leader sympathetic to many of Trump's positions, but noted that the two have traded barbs in recent weeks over Italy's caution about allowing its bases to be used to attack Iran. Trump claimed Meloni had "begged" for a photo with him at a recent Group of Seven meeting, then posted a meme to Truth Social showing her looking at him with the headline "Restraining Order Needed." The post sparked fresh coverage in the Italian press and thinly veiled distaste within Meloni's coalition. "Can I totally exclude that something like that will happen? No," the diplomat said. "I'm optimistic because I think the leaders know what is at stake. And if something does occur, then we always have the ultimate marriage counselor, Mark Rutte, to smooth things over."
Notable Quotes
The president always has fun at NATO, contrary to what people think.— Senior White House official
Things can derail. I'm optimistic because I think the leaders know what is at stake.— Senior NATO diplomat
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does Trump keep threatening to leave NATO if he seems to enjoy these summits so much?
Because the threat itself is the enjoyment. He's not actually considering withdrawal—he's using the possibility as leverage. The drama of it, the scrambling, the flattery that follows—that's the point. It's a performance that works because everyone knows he might actually do it.
So the $139 billion in defense spending increases—did Trump actually accomplish that, or would Europe have spent it anyway?
That's the question everyone's asking. Trump takes credit for it, and he did apply pressure. But Europe was already moving toward rearmament because of Russia. Trump accelerated it and made it about him, which is what he wanted.
What's the real problem with the Ukraine aid pledge if the U.S. isn't even participating?
The U.S. not blocking it is actually progress from last year. But Trump's envoys are focused on Iran, not Ukraine. The war is escalating, and American mediation has stopped. Europe is trying to fill the gap, but without Washington's weight, it's incomplete.
Why do Eastern European countries still trust America more than France or Germany?
History. They remember when America defended democracies. France and Germany are bigger, closer, but they're not America. And they're not sure France and Germany will fight for them if Russia moves. America has the nuclear arsenal and the distance that makes it seem more reliable.
Is Mark Rutte actually going to be able to smooth things over if Trump and Meloni have another fight?
He's trying. He's learned to speak Trump's language—the flattery, the presentation style. But Rutte can only manage so much. If Trump decides to pick a fight, no amount of golden lettering will stop it.
What happens if Trump actually does something surprising at this summit?
Then NATO scrambles, as it always does. The alliance has become expert at absorbing Trump's shocks and moving forward. But each shock weakens the bonds a little more.