Can Trump and Traoré aim to be friends, not enemies?

In the grand theatre of global leadership, two men who are thousands of miles apart by geographical location and by professional training, are unintentionally drafting identical scripts on their seemingly different platforms. One is the billionaire real estate mogul who is now the President of the United States of America. The other is the youthful military captain in far away Burkina Faso, who was propelled by revolution to become the transitional leader of the troubled West African country.

In what has so far looked to the world like a skin-colour contest between Donald Trump and Ibrahim Traore, would anyone have believed that both men have actually emerged as nationalist icons who succeeded in galvanizing powerful, commanding grassroots support, while they preached a similar gospel: "put the people first". Both of them knew full well that building a nation was the same as building a house. You do not start from the top and build downwards. You start from the foundation, the people, and build up. And that is exactly what they are doing.

To understand the significance of a possible Trump-Traoré unintended and yet largely unplanned cooperation, we must examine and reflect on the broader battle, the growing war between globalization and nationalisation.

In the wake of the second world war, a new social order evolved in favour of economic and political globalization, where Western-led institutions like the United Nations, the World Bank, and the International Monetary Fund hugely dictated terms of engagement with nations and big corporations. Nations were encouraged to open their borders to capital, labour, and ideas, often at the cost of their sovereignty and cultural identity. But in recent times, the tune of the music changed and it became mandatory for the dancers to change their dancing steps accordingly.

Right from his first missionary journey in America's White House, Trump did not only reject this globalisation trend, he declared a war on it. He withdrew from the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP). He pulled out of the Paris Climate Accord. He slashed America's contributions to global institutions. Trump challenged the very architectural design of global governance. In far away Africa, Traoré became the poster child of the same resistance. Under his watch, Burkina Faso expelled French military forces, cut ties with France, and openly criticized the paternalistic relationship between them which was characterized by decades of foreign aid, and foreign exploitation, in collaboration with the nation's Judas Iscariots. Like Trump, Traoré wanted to see the emergence of international partnerships on terms of mutual respect rather than on dependency.

The truth is that the world order is shifting, and shifting fast at that. And so, new alliances must be formed. Years ago, it could have been unthinkable that a populist American President and a young African revolutionary would share common grounds. But today, that is what is just happening. Therefore, this writing is not just a call for the world to notice the symmetry of Trump and Traore ideologies, it is an earnest plea to both leaders to appreciate the fact that they are not rivals. They are not enemies. They are two similar reflections in the same mirror of national leadership. They should reach out to each other as allies, not as adversaries.

President Trump
You know, sometimes, we tend to forget in our analysis of governance that good leaders lead by example. They would say: "Do as I do," unlike the unreliable leaders who would tell their followers who are supposed to trust them: "Do as I say, not as I do." It is this subtle difference that distinguishes a statesman from a dictator. Somehow, it is also the touch that will illuminate the road for both Trump and Traoré. For Donald Trump, leadership has always been about projecting strength in business, media, and eventually in politics. Trump always spoke in absolutes, walked with audacity, and staked his legacy on visible results: lower taxes, renegotiated trade deals, record-high stock markets, and tightened immigration control. Whether one agrees with him or not, Trump embodies the persona of a man who does not just issue commands but performs them on the grand stage. In far away Burkina Faso, Captain Traoré is just doing something similar, though under a different environment. Taking over a fragile country plagued by terrorism and economic uncertainty, Traoré has, in just three years, lived up to the mantra of leading from the front. Often seen in military fatigues among his troops, refusing excessive luxuries, and advocating for local production of goods and services over foreign dependence, he represents the soldier-leader who shares the suffering and aspiration of his people.

Captain Traore
In 2016, "America First" was the slogan that defined Trump’s campaign. It was not just political rhetoric, it was the soul of his governing philosophy. For Trump, prioritizing America meant nationalising the economy, securing borders, bolstering American military, and at the same time disengaging from international entanglements that drained American resources. For critics, this was isolationist and regressive. For supporters, it was a long-overdue reclamation of national pride. Captain Traoré, on his part, did not coin a three-word slogan, or any slogan with global echoes for that matter, but his policies ring with similar intent: “Burkina Faso First.” Whether through his push to nationalize mining operations, remove French military presence, or reinforce anti-imperialist sentiments among the people of Africa, Traoré's mission remains unmistakable: restore control, restore dignity, restore sovereignty. Both men, in vastly different contexts, rejected the idea that globalization must be validated at the cost of national integrity.

It may be even more surprising that Donald Trump and Ibrahim Traoré shared another troubling reality: both men have continued to face serious threats to their lives and legitimacy. Trump survived an assassination attempt during his 2016 campaign in Las Vegas. Since then, he has endured legal attacks, FBI investigations, and a historic second impeachment. Traoré, on his part, has reportedly survived nineteen assassination attempts since he became President in 2022. That figure is definitely astonishing, particularly when placed within the context of that region's level of instability, in addition to foreign interests in the country’s mineral wealth. So here we have two men who, despite their age difference of 37 and 80, their political philosophies and nationalities, share this common belief that their leadership threatens powerful anti-nationalist forces but still have remained resilient in pushing forward.

The problem both Trump and Traoré are equally facing, however, is that they are widely misunderstood. Many innovative leaders have that experience, including even Jesus Christ. Across nations, the media portrays Trump often as a ridiculous and alarming figure: a populist demagogue that is full of authoritarian instincts. Similarly, Traoré is caricatured as a young charismatic coup leader that is cloaked in revolutionary rhetoric. But if we can only look deeper into their circumstances, we will discover that Trump actually spoke for millions of Americans who felt abandoned by the globalization process, who watched their towns hollow out as industries moved abroad. His success in 2016 was not just political, it was cultural. He gave voice to the voiceless and hope to the forgotten. Traoré, in his circumstances, is doing just the same. Burkina Faso is a nation wounded by poverty, conflict, and exploitation. Traoré’s war is not only against jihadists but also against the deeper rot of corruption and dependency. His push to reclaim gold mines and eliminate foreign military dependency is not mere theatre, it is revolution by policy.

So, now that Trump has returned to the presidency for his second missionary journey, and still retains influence over the Republican Party, an emerging opportunity should be the offing: a diplomatic handshake between two nationalist movements: one from America, one from Africa. And why not? Trump repeatedly showed interest in “strong leaders” like Vladimir Putin of Russia, Kim Jong Un of North Korea, and Jair Bolsonaro of Brazil, who acted in the best interest of their countries. So, why should he now be reluctant to respect a man like Traoré, who is doing the same for Burkina Faso as he does for America? Obviously, a Trump-Traoré alignment would pioneer a new kind of non-traditional diplomacy, one that is not managed solely through bureaucratic channels but driven by the ideology of self-determination, anti-globalism, and national dignity.

Both leaders, indeed, offer important lessons for a world that is increasingly struggling with rising inequality, broken systems, and disillusioned electorates. From Trump, we learn that populism can be both powerful and dangerous. We learn that when populism is wielded with responsibility, it can restore public trust. When misused, it can divide and create social tension. From Traoré, we learn that Africa is no longer waiting. Young leaders are emerging who will continue to challenge the neo-colonial status quo and demand new terms of engagement. Yet, we know, because it is an open secret, that if these two men, each controversial, each beloved by millions, could find a way to understand each other, understand that their missions share a common ground, the result could go beyond conventional diplomacy. It could become something much deeper: a shared commitment to national revival.

In a world in which the affairs of men and nations are dominated by bureaucrats and career politicians, Trump and Traoré have turned out as outstanding public figures. They have become proof that the people still crave for leaders who can fight for them, not those who just manage them. The critical issue now is: will Trump and Traore ever conjure the willpower to join forces, in order to expand their socio-political ideology to liberate other countries still trapped by an effacing globalisation doctrine?