When the head of the largest military alliance in the world calls the president of the United States “daddy,” you’d be forgiven for thinking that it’s all over for the functional independence, much less dignity, of the subordinate children.

The on-stage masterclass in deference this past summer from Mark Rutte, secretary-general of NATO and former Dutch prime minister, toward U.S. President Donald Trump may mark the most telling moment in Europe’s abrogation of power. Europeans must hope it marks something less bleak, the search for a new modus operandi in a more performative world.

When the head of the largest military alliance in the world calls the president of the United States “daddy,” you’d be forgiven for thinking that it’s all over for the functional independence, much less dignity, of the subordinate children.

The on-stage masterclass in deference this past summer from Mark Rutte, secretary-general of NATO and former Dutch prime minister, toward U.S. President Donald Trump may mark the most telling moment in Europe’s abrogation of power. Europeans must hope it marks something less bleak, the search for a new modus operandi in a more performative world.

There have been many moments during the first year of Trump’s second term that might rival the one in June, when European NATO members feared that without concerted love-bombing, the United States might go rogue and abandon an alliance that has kept the West safe for nearly eight decades.

That is why Rutte did what he did, why French President Emmanuel Macron put his hand on Trump’s knee, and why the British royal family did the decent thing and fawned over Trump during his lavish and unprecedented second state visit to the United Kingdom.

Behind these rituals of ego, is there more going on? Recent events in the Middle East suggest that there is—that the demotion of Europe is for real.

Trump provided several put-downs of European leaders during his victory lap in Sharm el-Sheikh, Egypt, hours after Hamas released 20 Israeli hostages as part of a cease-fire deal with Israel. He beckoned U.K. Prime Minister Keir Starmer to the rostrum, before turning away from him and ushering him back to the line of groupies. He described Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni as “beautiful,” and he made jokes at the expense of Macron and Canadian Prime Minster Mark Carney. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz didn’t merit a mention, which could be interpreted either positively or negatively.

If you were being generous, you might describe Trump’s utterances as affectionate one-liners. Either way, they confirmed that what Trump demands, Trump gets. If the Nobel Peace Prize is eventually conferred on him, then he will have achieved the ultimate adulation that he craves. No other gifts come close, though there are business deals aplenty that could yet be struck.

So how do the likes of Starmer, Macron, and Merz best respond? The most obvious answer is sangfroid, which they are already showing. They acknowledge, in private if not in public, that they probably will not receive any more attention or favors from the White House than leaders of other middle powers such as Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and Turkey.

It did not go unnoticed that Trump lavished praise on Abdel Fattah al-Sisi, his Egyptian counterpart and cohost of the Gaza peace summit. He told his “friend” Sisi that the “United States was with him all the way” in cracking down on unrest (aka opposition), declaring: “I ask about crime, and they almost don’t know what I’m even talking about.”

In this transactional era, Trump is looking for like-minded souls, and not just in foreign policy. I was struck while recently listening to a podcast interview with Mathias Döpfner, chairman and CEO of Axel Springer SE. Döpfner might be public enemy number one for a certain type of liberal in Germany (a badge that he wears with pride); he is also very well-networked among a certain type of conservative in Washington.

The gist of his argument is that Europe is losing relevance because of its entire approach to policymaking. It is bureaucratic, it prefers regulation to innovation, and it is nowhere to be seen on technology, particularly AI. Furthermore, it is obsessed with “woke” culture wars, does not respect freedom of expression, and is endemically antisemitic.

I bridled furiously at the last three criticisms, but now is not the time to pick them apart in depth. But I found myself agreeing, or at least not instinctively disagreeing, with the first three. That is why the Trump administration has given such a wide berth to multilateral institutions, not least the European Union. It sees no reason to go through so many hoops to work with 27 countries and their complicated bureaucracies. The nation-state is back, or rather the personal relationship with the individual in charge.

Europe is left doing what it can where it can. Like students raising their hands in a classroom, nations are bidding for certain tasks in Trump’s grand 20-point peace plan for the Middle East. The British claim that their experience with Northern Ireland gives them a unique role in peace-building, while the French and Germans have suggested that they take a lead on Gaza’s reconstruction.

The area where Europeans thought they had leveraged the most influence, even if it fragile and limited, was Ukraine. The pledge (if variously and vaguely applied) to increase defense spending to 5 percent of GDP appeared to have placated Trump.

Trump’s frustration with Russian President Vladimir Putin not bending to his entreaties at their summit in Alaska made him realize that peacemaking in the Russia-Ukraine conflict is far more difficult to achieve. He appeared to give hope to the Ukrainian President, Volodymyr Zelensky, and to the Europeans that he had begun, finally, to understand their position.

Then came his ambush of Zelensky last Friday at the White House, his seeming adoption of Putin’s positions and the announcement of a U.S.-Russia summit in, of all places, Hungary—the outlier in the European Union that is ostentatiously friendly to the Kremlin. Trump may continue to zigzag, but the portents are not good. On this conflict too, he has convinced himself that he, and he alone, can conjure some form of solution by sheer force of his character.

There are limits: The most quixotic proclamations from earlier this year—regarding control of Greenland, Canada, and the Panama Canal—may have been shelved. In the current circumstances, that is no easy achievement. While pushback is possible, it must be done determinedly and extremely politely.

Only occasionally does a leader express open defiance, such as Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez, who is refusing to increase defense spending anywhere close to American demands and who is publicly embracing a more open approach to immigration. Sánchez has so far held firm against Trump’s tariff threats, and so none have been levied yet.

After Carney pushed back on the ludicrous notion of Canada becoming the 51st American state, he had to endure brickbats and increased tariffs. But his resolve has not slackened. As for France and the U.K., their decision to recognize the state of Palestine incurred the wrath of the Israeli government, but beyond harsh rhetoric from administration members, the response from Trump himself has been noticeably muted. Perhaps therein lies a clue. Choose your battles, avoid egregious insult, keep your nerve, and be prepared for the long haul.

Until recently, one of the conventional wisdoms in European chancelleries was that it would all blow over, that Trump would lose interest in remaking the world in his own image. But that is no longer the prevailing view. Not only is Trump not losing interest, but it seems that he has succeeded in future-proofing MAGA. From U.S. Vice President J.D. Vance downward, the movement is here to stay and the post-democratic American approach to power appears immutable.

The days when an incoming U.S. president would seek out London, Paris, or Berlin as their first port of call and vow eternal goodwill are long gone.