It was a triumph for Hungary’s populist prime minister, Viktor Orbán. A university founded in 1991 by one of his chief antagonists, George Soros, decided this week to quit Hungary next year, forced out by a row over its legal status.

But it was a failure for the US ambassador, an 80-year-old jewellery magnate and longstanding personal friend of Donald Trump, who had made it his mission to protect the US-accredited university.

When David Cornstein arrived in Budapest this summer, he came with a message of full support for Orbán’s far-right populist government, in an abrupt departure from previous US policy.

Despite concerns about corruption, rule of law and media freedom, as well as divisive rhetoric on immigration and refugees, Cornstein declared: “The government here has the support of the American government. I think they have the support of the secretary of state. I know they have the support of the American ambassador.”

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Hungary’s populist prime minister, Viktor Orbán. Photograph: Jean-Francois Badias/AP

He was one of a new crop of Trump-appointed ambassadors who have appeared willing to depart from diplomatic protocols to support nationalist, populist governments and politicians who may have similarities with the US president.

However, so far the approach has led to few foreign policy gains, and has caused much damage among traditional allies as well as resentment within the state department. Cornstein’s overtures to the government in Budapest seemingly had little effect in protecting the Central European University (CEU).

Some 1,000km north of Budapest, another US ambassador rapidly discovered the perils of politicising diplomacy.

Richard Grenell, Trump’s envoy to Berlin, declared his intention to “empower other conservatives throughout Europe”. He also raised eyebrows by inviting representatives of the far-right Alternative für Deutschland party to his 4 July celebrations.

The political class was not amused. The former SPD leader and chancellor candidate Martin Schulz said: “Grenell is behaving not like a diplomat but like a far-right colonial officer … Ambassadors are representatives of their nations not of political movements.” Fellow SPD politician Johannes Kahrs tweeted that if the quotes were right Grenell “should leave the country”.

Across the border in the Netherlands, there was further controversy when the new US ambassador, Peter Hoekstra, tied himself in knots by claiming he had never spoken about Muslim no-go zones in Europe, an obsession for the far-right, when he had.

US ambassador to Netherlands says sorry for 'fake news' interview debacle Read more

All three are political appointees – part of a longstanding practice whereby presidential loyalists or campaign donors are rewarded with ambassadorial jobs, usually in pleasant cities and with a lavish official residence.

Anthony Gardner, the US ambassador to the European Union until 2017, said it had become increasingly obvious to him that some of Trump’s choices in Europe appeared keen to foment nationalist, populist forces.

“There are some, yes. It is totally unacceptable and out of keeping with their diplomatic mission,” said Gardner, who was appointed by President Barack Obama and served in Brussels for nearly three years from March 2014.

The dynamic is part of an age-old debate on whether engagement or admonition is the best policy when dealing with problematic governments abroad. For all the lofty talk of freedom and democracy, many US administrations have also played nice when its strategic or economic interests are at stake.

What is different now, however, is that there is a US president whose domestic rhetoric is often similar to that of nationalist populist regimes in central Europe. It would be hard for US diplomats to continue taking Orbán to task for using derogatory language about refugees, or for demonising George Soros, or for attempting to crack down on the media, when Trump’s Twitter feed is pumping out a similar agenda on a daily basis.

Trump’s affinity with nationalists in central Europe was on display last year when he gave a furious speech in Warsaw about impending civilisational clashes which was music to the ears of Poland’s ruling Law and Justice party.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Donald Trump in Poland where his speech was music to the ears of the ruling Law and Justice party. Photograph: Czarek Sokołowski/AP

“The government saw that you have a president that has not only chosen Poland as the main counterpoint to old Europe, but has come and presented a vision very in line with theirs. This sent all the wrong messages and emboldened the government to do more in the direction they were already taking,” said Polish analyst Wojciech Przybylski.

Since then, however, the Trump-appointed ambassador to Poland, Republican donor Georgette Mosbacher, has emerged as a more traditional figure, surprising the Polish leadership with rebukes over the intimidation of journalists.

Whenever I would go out and give a speech on women’s rights or press rights I’d feel like a hypocrite Former US diplomat

For many US diplomats in postings where career diplomats remain as ambassador, the calculation is simple: pretend Trump doesn’t exist. “The fact that the Balkans is not that important to Trump meant in many ways we could carry on the same as before,” said a career US diplomat who was most recently posted in a Balkan country and left the foreign service earlier this year.

Having to represent a president who seems to stand for a lot of things that US diplomats have traditionally criticised in rightwing populists abroad is too much to take for some in the foreign service. “Whenever I would go out and give a speech on women’s rights or press rights I’d come home and think ‘God’, and feel like a hypocrite,” said the diplomat.

In so far as there is any centralised direction to policy in the region, it comes from Wess Mitchell, assistant secretary of state responsible for Europe. Mitchell has a background in central Europe and is a pragmatist when dealing with difficult allies.

“The United States must show up, or expect to lose,” he said at a recent event in Washington. The CEU case in Hungary, however, appears to be an example in which the US showed up, sought to placate their hosts, and lost anyway.

Cornstein’s approach was calculated. He believed that by championing Orbán publicly it would be possible to exert pressure on key issues of US interest. The US even cancelled a $700,000 state department grant announced last year meant to boost media freedom, which infuriated Hungarian authorities. In one interview, Cornstein said he had not met a single person who was dissatisfied with the current political climate since arriving in Hungary.

But Orbán simply pocketed the rhetorical support and ignored demands over the university, which announced on Monday it has been “forced to leave” and would relocate to Vienna. Although CEU will retain some courses in Hungary, the move is the first time a major university has been pushed out of an EU country, and was widely interpreted as a blow to academic freedom.

“All the indications are that the interests of the US are systematically ignored,” said Péter Krekó, who runs the Political Capital thinktank in Budapest. “Orbán is the illiberal poster child, so others will be watching to see if he faces any consequences for this.”

Additional reporting by Julian Borger in Washington, Daniel Boffey in Brussels and Josie Le Blond in Berlin

