He had the mandate. He had the message. But when the moment came, Trump blinked — again. Trump’s so-called Liberation Day was supposed to reshape the global economy. Instead, it exposed the exhausting cycle of bold talk and backpedals that defines Trump’s leadership.
Supporting Trump is not for the faint-hearted. Not because of the backlash from others, but because of the mental gymnastics required just to keep up with him. It’s the whiplash that wears you down — the cycle of being hopeful, then let down; of seeing clarity, then chaos.
I’ve never been part of the crowd that hated Trump just because they were told to. I supported him — still do, in some ways. Because he speaks truths that others are too conditioned, too cowardly, or too compromised to speak. He names things for what they are. He says the quiet part out loud.
But saying it is not the same as doing it. And that’s where the whole illusion starts to crack.
It cracked again this month with Liberation Day — the kind of announcement that should have marked a turning point. Instead, it marked yet another example of everything that’s wrong with Trump’s so-called art of the deal. All mouth. No follow-through. All noise. No conviction.
A Day of Liberation That Lasted Barely a Week
On 2 April 2025, Trump declared a sweeping tariff plan on all imports, wrapped in the grand branding of “Liberation Day.” It was pitched as the long-overdue reset of global trade — a flat 10% tariff on all imports, with even higher rates for countries running persistent trade surpluses against the United States.
For once, it looked like someone was willing to call out what has become one of the great hypocrisies in international trade: the myth of “fair trade” that’s been anything but.
For decades, countries across the globe have imposed exorbitant tariffs on American exports — sometimes proudly — while enjoying low or even zero duties on the goods they ship into the U.S. Whether it’s agricultural produce, cars, electronics or steel, these imbalances were not incidental; they were strategic. While other nations “protected” their industries, America was told to lead by example and open up.
And it goes further.
Many of these “partner countries” have effectively become middlemen for rerouted goods. Chinese products get repackaged and pushed through places like Vietnam, Mexico or even Australia. Some firms import directly from China and simply rebrand the goods to appear locally sourced. The country of origin on the label doesn’t always reflect reality — it reflects tactics.
Liberation Day was supposed to disrupt all of it. The message was simple: if you’re selling to America, you’re paying your share. If you’re benefiting from its markets, you don’t get a free pass. The tariffs weren’t about isolationism — they were about ending the one-sided openness that global elites have normalised for decades.
It wasn’t just about China. It was about the whole architecture of abuse.
But within seven days — seven days — the administration paused the tariffs for every country except China. Just like that. Gone. “Ongoing negotiations,” they said. The markets panicked. The IMF issued warnings. And Trump blinked.
Liberation Day ended before it even began.
This Was Supposed to Be the One That Counted
Trump’s hard-won second term — after the pause — was supposed to be this. One for the ages. A term of no excuses. Where he would leave a legacy — not in the tired, ceremonial way politicians usually mean it — but in a way that actually reshapes the spine of a nation.
A legacy that says: America rebuilt its industrial base. America stopped being a consumer colony. America finally forced the global economy to play fair. This was supposed to be the term that proved the first was just the warm-up.
He had the mandate: every swing state, the popular vote, the electoral college. A Republican House — slim, but intact. A Republican Senate. The machinery was there. If not now, then when?
But instead, the dithering continues. The same wobbles and hesitations that defined his first term. Despite knowing the terrain. Despite learning the hard way. Despite gutting much of the deep state that had paralysed him early on.
And still — the same need to pander to the legacy media, to appease the often manipulative markets. As if he’s forgotten that both are just different arms of the same machine. When the deep state is dormant, the media and markets step in to carry the sabotage forward. And he feeds them. Hoping they’ll finally treat him fairly. They won’t. They never have.
It’s Not the Instincts That Are the Problem
Trump gets a lot of the instincts right. He understands that America has been played. That trade has become a tool of national decline rather than shared growth. That “free trade” is often just a euphemism for one-sided submission. And he understands — correctly — that China’s economic rise was enabled by elite cowardice in Washington.
But instincts are not enough. At some point, follow-through matters. Vision needs structure. Strategy needs consistency. And leadership means holding the line — especially when it gets tough.
Liberation Day should have been the beginning of a new doctrine. Instead, it became yet another collapsed bluff. Another news cycle. Another shrug.
Support Shouldn’t Be a Test of Endurance
The exhaustion of supporting Trump comes from constantly having to interpret what he meant, instead of being able to point to what he did. You’re asked to act like every stumble is a masterstroke — like this is all some delayed-reveal grand plan. But more often than not, it’s just a plan abandoned halfway through.
It’s a feeling South Africans know too well. Trevor Noah once joked about Bafana Bafana, our national football team. Every tournament, every qualifier, we end up supporting Bafana — and some other team, and another one — just to help us qualify. Not because of our brilliance, but because some convoluted result might swing our way.
And when we sneak in? We celebrate. Until the next cycle, where we do the maths again. Deep down, we know: it’s not the logistics. It’s not the referees. It’s not FIFA. It’s us. Bafana Bafana sabotage themselves.
That’s what supporting Trump feels like. Always hoping some outside force carries him over the line — not because of the strength of his follow-through, but in spite of it. And deep down, we know: it’s him. He keeps sabotaging himself.
The Final Verdict
Trump doesn’t lose because the media is unfair. Or because the markets are scared. Or because the globalists are plotting. He loses because he never stays the course. He calls the right shots, then steps off the court before the play finishes. He talks strength, then looks for applause. He starts fires, then wonders why it’s hot.
Liberation Day was supposed to be a defining moment. It was supposed to reshape the global economic order. It ended in retreat — not because it was attacked, but because Trump didn’t stick with it.
So no — this is not the art of the deal. It’s the art of the delay. A style with no substance. A fight with no finish.
And the tragedy of it all? He wasn’t wrong. He just didn’t have the conviction to stay right.
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