Here’s a newsflash for Australians: Donald Trump doesn’t worry about us too much.
We are a small fish from down under. And for most of Trump’s supporters we’re probably known either (positively) for Crocodile Dundee or (negatively) for gun control.
At a political level, it could be argued that Australia does have somewhat outsized influence in the US, largely due to our long-running defence alliance, but as all Australians who work in Washington know, that has limited currency.
This is even more the case today, given the immense instability in Europe and the Middle East that is commanding attention.
For Australia as a nation, and for Anthony Albanese, this dynamic is both a blessing and a curse.
It means that Australia can fly under the radar to some degree, leveraging the pre-existing relationship through lower-level leaders and staff to get the required outcomes, on trade for example, without being so high profile that we cause Trump a domestic political headache.
It also means that the US president has limited understanding, and interest, in Australia. Getting a meeting at all has been a battle, and he didn’t even know what Aukus was, remember? Yet the pact will cost Australian taxpayers at least $368bn and is supposed to sit at the centre of the future of the strategic relationship.
Albanese must therefore navigate the delicate balance between getting Trump’s attention and attracting too much domestic attention to something like Aukus. Handing over subs has political risks for Trump, because it could be seen as contradictory to the president’s “America First” positioning.
This was illustrated in the early days of the first Trump administration back in 2017 when I asked a question in a White House press briefing about the Obama-era deal for the US to accept asylum seekers from Australia and whether it would still stand.
This was something both governments would have preferred had stayed out of the domestic US headlines given that it contradicted Trump’s policies of tightening borders and so-called “extreme vetting” of migrants.
Once it was elevated so publicly inside the US, it blew up, leading to the leaking of a conversation between Trump and then prime minister Malcolm Turnbull in which Trump accused Turnbull of trying to export the next Boston bombers.
“That puts me in a bad position. It makes me look so bad,” Trump said during the leaked call.
From the point of view of the Australian government, this is a situation to avoid repeating at all costs.
And arguably, carefully stepped through, the government has an opportunity to find common ground that will appeal to Trump.
From my personal experience of both of them, Albanese and the Donald both talk a lot, listen less. They are not alone in this. It’s a characteristic of many politicians.
To get what he needs out of this meeting, though, Albanese will need to read Trump’s cues. And given the stream of consciousness that characterises a conversation with Donald Trump, that will be no easy task. An attractive deal will have to be on the table.
A deal on US investment in Australian critical minerals, for example, would push back on China’s increasing global domination in that space.
Confirmation of the Aukus deal could be framed as all benefit, no cost to the American audience, given the decades-long timeframe and no-strings-attached multibillion-dollar deposit involved.
No cost either to Trump, for whom self-interest is his primary if not only priority. He won’t be president when the US actually has to hand us a submarine. Someone else’s problem, among them Albanese who is facing slipping support for Aukus at home.
And despite the differences in position, Australia’s support for the US-brokered Israel-Hamas deal provides cover for both Albanese and Trump. They are differentiated in the way they frame the issues for their respective bases but are on the same page in working for the common goal of peace.
Indeed, while the White House has criticised the Albanese government’s decision to recognise Palestinian statehood, Trump himself may respect it even if he disagrees. Generally, he’s a fan of decisive leadership. The prime minister could do more of that.
Dealing with Donald Trump requires nose holding though, obviously.
Amid increased politicisation of immigration here in Australia, for example, the prime minister will have to park his values to avoid calling out the president’s appalling, heavy-handed actions against minorities.
Increasing encroachment on press and academic freedom, backsliding on climate policy, cuts to foreign aid and government services, disrespectful treatment of the Ukrainian president, claims of nepotism in official appointments, failure to release the Epstein files and a range of other actions will have to be ignored.
It’s a common theme when it comes to Trump. Even his supporters pick and choose the bits they like and the bits they don’t.
But it creates risk for Albanese who will need to hold on to his integrity and stand up for Australian values in the process, as he faces the diplomatic test of his political life to attract, and hold, Trump’s attention.
• Zoe Daniel is a three-time ABC foreign correspondent and former independent member for Goldstein
