We are the company we keep, so it’s no surprise that US President Donald Trump warmly welcomed Conor McGregor to the White House on Saint Patrick’s Day this year. Both men share many things in common: questionable charisma and popularity aplenty, yes — but most notably their convictions of serious sexual assaults in a civil court. 

McGregor took the invitation to the US’ most esteemed address as an opportunity to misrepresent the Irish people’s opinions on issues such as immigration and the economy, as well as to springboard his apparent bid for the Irish presidency. It remains to be seen, however, if he can waltz into Áras an Uachtarán as easily as he did its American counterpart.

On the other hand, Trump used this political play date to subtly hint to leaders across the world that he favours personality over policies. While this is no departure from what we know to be true, it proves to be a particularly callous example of his departure from the norms of diplomacy. With McGregor running wild around the White House on Saint Patrick’s Day, Taoiseach Micheál Martin was slotted in on the Tuesday before March 17th; bumped off centre stage on his country’s national day.

Trump’s Bizarrepolitik — a misconstrued attempt to replicate the 19th century proto-German political philosophy Realpolitik, which advocates for actually attainable results from government instead of broader, less tangible ideals proposed to the electorate — manifests itself mainly in his parading of world leaders in front of his (increasingly hand-picked) White House press pool.

Trump may think that he’s playing chess as Europe plays checkers, but in reality he’s been dealt a hand of jokers in a game of go-fish. His techniques to wrestle control of world affairs to his Republican Party simply won’t work, and the Irish example proves this.

In his recent meetings with world leaders, he has repeatedly attempted to gain the upper hand by embarrassing or blitzing his contemporaries in front of the world’s media. His reasons for this methodology are plenty: to begin trade negotiations with force, to (sub)consciously urge the other party to align themselves with his policies, or to simply show brute strength. 

While this makes for riveting social media clips, this approach has in fact rarely worked out in Trump’s favour. World leaders now travel to Washington more well versed on his psychological warfare tactics than his actual foreign policy specifics, and act accordingly. Starmer revealed an envelope from King Charles and presented it to Trump without warning, leaving him stunned, and perhaps even touched. Macron flexed the breadth of flirting French-style, lulling Trump into a false sense of security regarding their future collective reaction to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. It was only Zelenskyy who truly faltered in this environment, greatly outnumbered with the US Vice-President and Secretary of State also present in the Oval Office.

This set up proves to be a complete inversion of his proposed Realpolitik of putting “America First”. Here, effecting tangible change to improve the lives of his citizens — say, for example, strengthening ties with allies or productively advocating for trade balancing — plays second fiddle to a stroking of his ego or a bollocking of his opponent. 

Trump’s Bizarrepolitik subsequently causes us to totally rethink US-Ireland relations more broadly. For better or for worse, the Irish conduct politics from a uniquely depersonalised approach — while the well-known quip that older people vote for a politician purely “because he fixed the local road” remains largely valid, this stems from a deeply communal perspective. 

It must be acknowledged that politicians in Ireland are generally void of personality. Micheál Martin has no compelling narrative, Simon Harris lacks a charismatic voice, and Mary Lou McDonald struggles to centre her party on a singular voice. This is not meant to ridicule our political leaders, but instead to demonstrate the stark differences in politics on either side of the Atlantic.

This divide is clearly demonstrated in Trump’s invitation to McGregor on Saint Patrick’s day, in which Martin’s dismissal mirrors the replacement of any true Realpolitik in Trump’s presidency. 

To not only platform, but further propagate, the deliberately misleading views of a man recently found liable of battering and raping a woman, Nikita Hand, flies in the face of the values widely held by the people of Ireland — Tánaiste Simon Harris said in New York that McGregor is “the very worst of masculinity” and “represents the polar opposite” of Irish values.

It also goes without saying that McGregor is unrepresentative of the Irish people by nature of his never running for public office, low level of personal popularity across the country, and the comparatively short amount of time he spends in the country each year.

Since he descended a golden escalator in Manhattan’s Trump Tower, Trump’s presidency has long blurred the line between actual governance and eye-catching entertainment — but in politics, performance can only go so far until people say the show’s over. The runtime of Trump’s productivity with international leaders is proving shorter than expected, as he has already had to use an overzealous understudy to provide unnecessary substance on our nation’s closeup.