Anchorage as a symbolic watershed

There are places that, more than others, become watersheds of history. Not so much for what happens there on a material level, but for what manifests itself there in symbolic and communicative terms. Anchorage is one of these places. It was here that a scene unfolded that will remain etched in the memory of international diplomacy as the moment when Donald Trump’s performative democracy showed all its cracks, until it revealed itself for what it really is: a narrative castle without foundations, fragile in the face of those who know the oldest and most solid art of realpolitik.

The fragility of performative diplomacy

Donald Trump has built his power and political narrative on a simple but powerful principle: turning every gesture, every word, every press conference into a spectacle. His is a performative diplomacy, based on the belief that perception matters more than substance, that image can replace reality. But in Anchorage, in front of Vladimir Putin, this system shattered. The illusion of controlling the global stage dissolved in a few moments: a handshake, an unscripted applause, an invasion of proxemic space were enough to reveal the fragility of the Trumpian device.

A point of no return

In this analysis I will try to show why Anchorage marks not only a tactical failure, but a point of no return in the parable of Trump’s political communication and, with it, of performative diplomacy as an exclusive tool for managing international relations. I will do so by moving along two lines: on the one hand, an analysis of the scene, proxemics, symbols and narratives; on the other, a strategic reflection on the consequences of this failure, which opens up a new phase in world politics.

The dance of perceptions

The real game in Anchorage was not only played out in communiqués or high-sounding phrases, but in gestures, images and silences. It was there that the defeat of Trumpian performative diplomacy took place, and it was there that Putin proved once again that he knows the art of strategic communication better than a leader who has made the stage his strength.

The cancelled applause

It all begins with the arrival of the Russian president. Putin is welcomed on the red carpet, in a setting that already underlines an equality – if not a symbolic supremacy – with the American guest. But the most striking detail is the one the White House will desperately try to conceal: Donald Trump applauding Putin’s arrival. An apparently innocuous gesture, but one that in the eyes of the observer completely reverses the roles. It is not the hosted leader who pays tribute to the host, but the other way around. Precisely for this reason, the White House decided to erase all traces of the applause from the official videos: an attempt to retrospectively rewrite the scene, activating a real crisis communication.

Proxemics reversed

But the damage, proxemically speaking, had already been done. Putin is familiar with Trump’s egocentrism, and knows how to manipulate it. In the initial handshake, the former KGB man chooses the path of muscular force: he touches Trump’s arm, invading the proxemic space that is usually the American’s favourite weapon. With European leaders – except Macron, who understood the dynamics – Trump was used to imposing his non-verbal agenda. In Anchorage, the script is reversed: it is Putin who invades the president’s space, and not vice versa.

Body language

The key to the scene must be read through kinesics, i.e. the science that studies body movements and their communicative dimension. Putin, a former KGB agent, knows the value of gestures well and does not improvise: he has studied Trump, his aggressive handshakes, his tendency to pull his interlocutors towards him to assert dominance. In Anchorage, the Russian leader reverses the script: he invades the proxemic space of the American president, touching his arm and forcing him into a defensive posture.

The shared limousine

Usually leaders travel in two separate cars, for security and protocol. The fact that Trump has invited Putin to ride in his limousine(The Beast) is a very rare, almost unprecedented gesture that communicates equality, closeness, almost complicity. Putin knows this, he exploits it: in the eyes of the domestic and international public, that gesture becomes legitimisation.

Photographic errors and manipulations

Those dynamics, broadcast live, represent a glaring error for Trump’s communication machine. So much so that, in one of the photos subsequently published by the White House, an attempt is made to correct the error: Trump appears leaning towards Putin, in a position of dominance. It is the textbook case of the left-slide advantage, the technique whereby whoever occupies the left side of the photo appears more central and dominant.

Flattery and provocation

Added to this choreography of gestures is the subtle game of flattery and visual provocation. Putin knows that Trump thrives on narcissism, and gives him calibrated words: ‘With you in the White House, this war would never have started’. It is a stroke of cunning that inflates the Tycoon’s ego and makes him look like the man of failed peace.

Communication debacle

The end result is a total communication debacle for Trump. Not only because his public statements were flawed by logical fallacies – the classic overpromising and under-delivering – but also because his handling of symbols, gestures, and images failed. The White House communicators themselves were forced into video editing, photo retouching and crisis communication.

Ceremonial as communication

Ceremonial is never an ornamental detail. It is political substance disguised as form, non-verbal language that builds frames of meaning around leaders and events. In the field of diplomacy, ceremonial is a guarantee of security, predictability, image control.

Mistakes and carelessness

The forgetting of confidential documents in a hotel twenty minutes away from the military base is not just a grotesque episode. It is material evidence of carelessness that jeopardises both national security and international credibility.

The limousine as a broken code

It is here that we understand the political value of ceremonial as communication. When Trump invited Putin to travel together in ‘The Beast’ limousine, he broke an established code. Instead of asserting his role, Trump communicated subordination.

The Russian advantage

Putin, by contrast, made ceremonial a weapon. He arrived in Anchorage on a red carpet, invaded Trump’s proxemic space and orchestrated symbols that amplified his narrative: Lavrov in a USSR sweatshirt, chicken Kiev, verbal flattery. Every gesture was calibrated to emphasise his own centrality and reduce Trump to an extra.

The failure of performative democracy

This contrast certifies the failure of Trumpian performative democracy. Where ceremonial should guarantee rigour, balance and consistent messages, the administration has produced errors and embarrassments.

Overpromising without results

Donald Trump set the entire communicative architecture of the Anchorage summit onoverpromising. His statements left no room for nuance: ‘with me in the White House the war would be over in 24 hours’ and ‘it was either a ceasefire or nothing’.

The under delivering

This is exactly what happened in Anchorage. The summit produced neither truces, nor openings, nor compromises. What Trump had announced as a show of strength turned into a missed opportunity, an under delivering that amplified the perception of failure.

The Putin soft war

Putin, on the other hand, has played a different game. In his soft war, he promises nothing, raises no expectations, announces no breakthroughs. Yet, in Anchorage, he was welcomed with full honours: red carpet, limousine, lunch ‘in his honour’.

The Anchorage lesson

In Anchorage, not only was a summit between two leaders consummated, but the failure of Trumpian performative democracy was certified. The meeting, constructed as a spectacle, imploded under the weight of unrealistic expectations, ceremonial errors and improvisations.

The final message

The message to the world is clear: in global competition, symbolic strength counts as much as – and sometimes more than – military strength. And in Anchorage, the United States lost at what it did best: narrating itself.