A World on Edge as Trump’s Second-Term Disruption Reaches a Boiling Point

One year into Donald J. Trump’s return to the presidency, the defining feature of his second term is no longer simply controversy or polarization. It is destabilization — at home and abroad — unfolding with a speed and intensity that has left allies alarmed, markets shaken and democratic institutions under sustained pressure.

On Tuesday, the Dow Jones Industrial Average fell nearly 900 points in a single session, capping weeks of volatility driven by a combination of unilateral tariffs, erratic foreign policy signals and mounting fears of economic slowdown. Inflation has begun to tick upward again, unemployment is rising in key manufacturing regions, and businesses face renewed uncertainty as the White House announces — and sometimes retracts — sweeping trade measures without congressional consultation.

But the market turbulence is only one manifestation of a broader crisis.

Across Minneapolis, masked and heavily armed federal immigration officers have conducted raids that local officials describe as a “militarized occupation.” The Justice Department has escalated investigations into Democratic governors and mayors who resist federal directives, while President Trump has publicly mused about deploying active-duty troops inside U.S. cities. Civil liberties groups warn that the line between federal law enforcement and political intimidation is rapidly eroding.

Internationally, the picture is even more stark.

In just the past month, the Trump administration stunned Latin America by detaining Venezuela’s president and transporting him to the United States to stand trial — an unprecedented move that many international law experts argue violates established norms of sovereignty. President Trump then declared that Venezuela’s oil revenues would be seized, sold, and deposited into an offshore account in Qatar controlled by Trump-aligned entities, a claim that has triggered outrage among U.S. allies and scrutiny from ethics watchdogs.

At the same time, Trump has renewed threats to bomb Iran, floated punitive actions against multiple European nations, and intensified his fixation on Greenland — a fixation that has become emblematic of his governing style. The president has repeatedly suggested that Denmark or Norway should “give” Greenland to the United States, linking the demand to his long-standing grievance over not receiving the Nobel Peace Prize.

That grievance took center stage this week in Davos, Switzerland, where the annual World Economic Forum transformed into an emergency summit focused less on trade and climate than on how to manage an American president increasingly described, in private and now in public, as a global threat.

“The old order is not transitioning — it has been disrupted,” said Mark Carney, the former governor of the Bank of England and now prime minister of Canada, in a widely praised address. Great powers, he warned, are weaponizing economic integration itself: tariffs as coercion, supply chains as leverage, and financial systems as instruments of dominance.

“When we negotiate bilaterally with a hegemon,” Carney said, “we negotiate from weakness. That is not sovereignty. It is the performance of sovereignty while accepting subordination.”

His remarks were widely interpreted as a direct rebuke of Washington — and of Trump personally.

Outside the conference halls, a symbolic protest unfolded in the Alps. A group of local residents climbed a mountainside after sunset, lighting hundreds of torches to spell out a message visible across the valley: No Kings.

The image ricocheted across social media, shared by journalists, activists and even some European lawmakers. It captured a growing consensus among U.S. allies: that Trump’s leadership is no longer merely unpredictable, but fundamentally incompatible with the postwar international system.

That assessment stands in sharp contrast to the president’s own self-image.

On the same day world leaders debated how to contain him, Trump spent nearly two hours at a White House podium delivering a rambling address celebrating what he called “the most successful year any president has ever had.” He claimed credit for “stopping eight wars,” lamented not receiving “a Nobel Prize for each one,” insisted that Norway “controls the shots” of the Nobel committee, and declared that God himself was “very proud” of his presidency.

He also veered into personal anecdotes, racialized attacks on Somali Americans, and boasts about reinstating Columbus Day — moments that underscored the gulf between the gravity of the global moment and the president’s rhetoric.

The consequences of that gulf are now tangible.

According to multiple reports circulating among aviation trackers and confirmed by journalists monitoring flight data, Air Force One appeared late Tuesday to turn back toward the United States while en route to Davos. The White House has not offered a clear explanation, citing possible technical issues, though aides privately acknowledged that Trump was furious over the hostile reception awaiting him in Europe.

Whether the plane turned around for mechanical reasons or political ones, the symbolism was unmistakable: an American president so isolated that the world’s premier gathering of political and economic leaders had become inhospitable terrain.

At home, cracks are widening within Congress. Democrats are preparing a war powers resolution aimed at limiting Trump’s authority to take military action related to Greenland — a measure that, according to lawmakers, may attract more Republican support than similar efforts tied to Venezuela. Several GOP senators have privately expressed concern that Trump’s territorial ambitions risk dragging the United States into direct confrontation with the European Union.

“The question isn’t whether we can operate in Greenland,” said Michael Steele, the former Republican National Committee chairman, on MSNBC. “We already can. The question is what the president actually wants.”

Steele’s answer was blunt: land.

“He’s a developer,” Steele said. “Developers want property. He wants the map. He wants the flag. He wants to say he expanded America’s footprint.”

That interpretation has gained traction among diplomats and analysts who see Trump’s foreign policy not as strategic doctrine but as an extension of personal branding — a quest for attention, accolades and visible symbols of dominance.

California Governor Gavin Newsom put it more crudely, criticizing world leaders for what he called “rolling over” for Trump. “Handing out crowns, dangling Nobel Prizes — it’s pathetic,” Newsom said. “And from an American perspective, it’s embarrassing.”

The economic fallout may prove the most decisive constraint on Trump’s ambitions. Economists warn that his tariff regime — hundreds of billions of dollars in new taxes on imports — is already hitting farmers, small manufacturers and exporters, many of them in regions that overwhelmingly supported him. Supply chains are tightening, consumer prices are rising, and foreign retaliation looms.

Ironically, advisers say, the economy is where Trump is most politically vulnerable. Yet those same advisers continue to praise his instincts, reinforcing what critics describe as an emperor-with-no-clothes dynamic inside the White House.

The central question now is not whether Trump’s presidency has destabilized the world — that debate is effectively over — but who, if anyone, will stop him.

Will Europe act in unity rather than accommodation? Will Congress assert its constitutional authority? Or will it fall, once again, to the American public to impose limits at the ballot box?

As one European official put it quietly in Davos, “We are living in a time of monsters.”

The world is watching to see whether the United States chooses to confront that reality — or surrender to it.