SURPRISED and shaken by Donald Trump’s victory, America’s allies are hoping for the best while desperately seeking guidance on what his presidency might mean for them. Mr Trump’s statements on the campaign trail were contradictory and often disturbing. Many countries see the 70-year-old Pax Americana as a source of security and prosperity. That the president-elect might place little value on this system of alliances and rules is as incredible to many as it is alarming.

Since the election, Mr Trump has made some moves to calm such fears. Foreign leaders who have spoken with him report that he was friendly and largely reassuring. Before the election he had suggested that Japan, for example, should either pay America a lot more for its defence or build its own nuclear forces. But after meeting him on November 17th Shinzo Abe, Japan’s prime minister, declared himself “convinced that Mr Trump is a leader in whom I can have confidence”. Katsuyuki Kawai, a senior aide to Mr Abe, said that members of Mr Trump’s transition team had told him that not all of the president-elect’s pre-election remarks should be taken literally.

South Korea, too, was identified during the campaign as a free rider that could be left to defend itself from its nuclear-armed neighbour, north of the 38th parallel. But in a telephone call with its (soon-to-be-ousted) president, Park Geun-hye, Mr Trump said that he would uphold America’s security alliance with South Korea and maintain a “strong, firm” defence posture in the region.

Mr Trump had also described NATO as “obsolete” and suggested that America would come to the aid of a threatened member only if it had paid its dues. But in a call with the security alliance’s secretary-general, Jens Stoltenberg (who diplomatically thanked him for having raised the issue of inadequate European defence spending), Mr Trump spoke of NATO’s “enduring importance” and discussed how the alliance was adapting to new threats, in particular, countering terrorism.

The only one of America’s big allies publicly to hint at disquiet has been Germany’s chancellor, Angela Merkel. Before speaking to Mr Trump, she said that Germany and America were “bound by common values” such as democracy, freedom and respect for the rule of law. It was on that basis that the two countries, and leaders, could co-operate, she said. Her statement was interpreted by some as a willingness to champion those values, should Mr Trump fail to.

Amid all the mixed signals, the truth is that America’s allies have no real idea what they are dealing with. What, for example, is India’s prime minister, Narendra Modi, to make of the call between Mr Trump and Pakistan’s prime minister, Nawaz Sharif? America’s relationship with Pakistan is severely strained by its security service’s covert support for the Afghan Taliban and other jihadist groups. But according to the transcript published by the astonished Pakistanis, Mr Trump called Mr Sharif “a terrific guy”, offered to come to his “fantastic country, fantastic place of fantastic people” and declared himself willing “to play any role you want me to play to address and find solutions to the outstanding problems”. To Indian ears that sounded like a highly unwelcome proposal to mediate in the two countries’ territorial dispute over Kashmir.

The view from Trump Tower

Mr Trump’s world view is shaped by a set of beliefs that he has held since the 1980s, argues Thomas Wright of the Brookings Institution, a think-tank in Washington. These are quite unlike those held by any American president since the second world war. “He believes that the US has been taken for a sucker by other countries because of trade deals and security commitments,” says Mr Wright. By studying Mr Trump’s public statements over the past 30 years, he concludes that the president-elect thinks that America has no strategic interest in military engagement in Asia or maintaining troops in Europe. In the Middle East, he has talked about forcing Kuwait to hand over a quarter of its oil revenues as payment for its security and said that Saudi Arabia “would not be around” were it not for “the cloak of American protection”.

Presidents from Jimmy Carter to Barack Obama have lamented the failure of America’s allies to pull their weight. But there is a big difference between Mr Trump’s views on burden-sharing and those of his predecessors. Mr Obama would have been delighted if every other NATO member honoured its obligation to spend at least 2% of GDP on defence (only Britain, Estonia, Greece and Poland now do; see chart). But what Mr Trump seems to want is that America’s allies in the western Pacific and Europe write a cheque to cover the entire cost of keeping American forces on their territory, which he says amounts to “trillions of dollars” over the years.

Realistically, there is little likelihood of a Trump administration turning these ideas into policies. But a peculiarity of his campaign is causing great uncertainty for America’s allies, says Mike Green, a foreign-policy adviser to Mitt Romney during his presidential run who now works at the Centre for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) in Washington. Usually, the transition from campaign to administration involves the candidate’s policy wonks working from his speeches to produce a coherent platform. But Mr Trump had no serious policy advisers before his election, and most of his instincts about foreign policy are “unexecutable”.

Mr Green thinks that the president-elect’s inner circle will strive to get as close to his “original intent” as possible, but the bureaucracy will push back. In past administrations, the ideologues whom presidents have brought into office with them have tended to disappear over time as their policy preferences collide with reality: Ronald Reagan got through six national-security advisers in eight years. And comfortingly for worried allies, Mr Trump’s pick for defence secretary, retired Marine General Jim Mattis, is a soldier-scholar with long experience of fighting alongside partners. He is utterly committed to America’s forceful engagement in upholding the liberal international order.

Against that, Mr Trump is showing no sign of being weighed down by the dignity of office. His appointment as national-security adviser, retired General Mike Flynn, is a prickly character given to conspiracy theories and Islamophobic rhetoric. And his choice of Rex Tillerson to be secretary of state, announced on December 13th, is disconcerting. The chief executive of ExxonMobil is well-travelled and a consummate dealmaker. But his personal ties with Vladimir Putin, long business relationship with Rosneft (Russia’s state-owned oil firm) and opposition to the sanctions imposed on Russia after its invasion of Ukraine are ringing alarm bells in the capitals of NATO members.

“Mr Trump’s approach will be ‘transactional’,” says Andrew Shearer, a recent Australian national-security adviser now at CSIS. “His narrative is very much about the cost of alliances. He will want to know how allies are helping US interests.” The biggest unknown, Mr Shearer thinks, is Mr Trump’s attitude to China. He clearly wants to go on the offensive on economic issues, but does he see a link between geopolitical assertiveness and the value of allies in helping America achieve its aims?

Will Mr Trump’s phone call with Taiwan’s president, Tsai Ing-wen, on December 2nd create trouble for allies in the region? Mr Trump appeared to question the “One China” policy (whereby America has long acknowledged that the governments in Taipei and Beijing both agree that there is only one China, even though neither recognises the other as ruler of it). China reacted furiously.

Will China now stop co-operating with America over sanctions relating to North Korea’s nuclear programme? And will Mr Trump proceed with his predecessor’s plans to base rotational forces in Vietnam and the Philippines as a deterrent to Chinese bullying in the South China Sea? Those were in jeopardy after Mr Obama criticised the murderous anti-drug campaign of Rodrigo Duterte, the Philippines’ president. But in a phone call, Mr Trump reportedly had only praise for Mr Duterte, whose utterances are even less restrained than his own. (Mr Duterte has called the pope a “son of a whore” and this week boasted of having personally killed suspected drug-dealers, though no one knows if he is bluffing.)

America’s allies can make some educated guesses about Mr Trump’s administration. Curbing jihadist terrorism will be a priority. With General Mattis at the Pentagon and General Flynn urging him on, a more muscular approach to destroying Islamic State (IS) in Syria and Iraq is probable, although what will follow is a mystery. More troops are likely to be sent to Afghanistan to contain the Taliban, though no one knows how many or for how long. Afghans fret that Mr Trump’s views on their country have been wildly inconsistent. He once tweeted: “It is time to get out of Afghanistan. We are building roads and schools for people that hate us.” Later he said that American troops should “probably” stay because the state would “collapse about two seconds after they leave”. “No one can tell you [what’s going to happen],” says an Afghan official. “We’re very worried,” says another.

Mr Obama’s attempt to improve relations with Iran by encouraging would-be reformers is likely to be shelved. Although General Mattis thinks the nuclear deal struck in 2015 worth preserving, he was sacked by Mr Obama from running Central Command (which covers an area from Egypt to Pakistan) because he continued to see Iran as an unrelenting threat that had to be countered.

Shouldering the burden

Mr Trump will surely insist that America’s allies spend more on defence and more towards the cost of maintaining its forces in their countries. The Pentagon will get extra cash, which will go towards a bigger navy and modernised nuclear forces. Both are potentially positive for allies, says Mr Shearer, because they boost deterrence.

Despite Mr Trump’s remarks during the campaign, the allies who may have least to fear are Japan and South Korea. That is partly because they have a good story to tell, argues Mr Green: “Their defence budgets are growing and they want to do more.” Japan has loosened the restrictions that had been imposed by its pacifist constitution on contributing to missions that go beyond self-defence. It is playing a bigger role in regional maritime security. South Korea’s military spending is rising by 7% a year; it fields half a million well-equipped troops and is investing in a new missile-defence system. Both countries pay around 40% of the cost of hosting American forces (54,000 in the former and 28,500 in the latter). They are also hoping that their commitment to the alliance will be measured not just in dollars but by their willingness to take more risk and responsibility and to build military forces that can operate well with their American allies.

According to a South Korean official who has experience of negotiating with the Americans, when the current five-year financial-support agreement comes up for renegotiation in 2018, Mr Trump’s concerns about burden-sharing will be taken into account. However, by then North Korea’s vile regime may be just a couple of years away from being able to launch a nuclear strike, not only on South Korea but also on Washington. He notes that South Korea is very close to a resurgent Russia, and to an increasingly assertive China. The implication is clear: America’s own security interests are more entwined than ever with those of the region, making it a peculiar time to consider scaling back its military presence.

Opinion polls suggest that Americans’ support for defending South Korea and Japan remains solid, at around 70%. Many Trump voters will also be well aware of the hundreds of thousands of well-paid American jobs in manufacturing created by Japanese and South Korean firms. Backing for NATO, however, is softer. The latest poll by the Pew Research Centre found that just 53% of American voters—and just 43% of Republicans—support the alliance.

Since the 1970s, American presidents have periodically inveighed against the “free riding” of European allies. The problem became worse in the 1990s in the rush to claim a peace dividend after the end of the cold war, and worse still because of budget-tightening after the 2008 financial crisis. But the oft-quoted number that America’s defence budget accounts for 72% of NATO spending is somewhat misleading. It reflects America’s global reach, not just what it spends on defending the North Atlantic. Even so, says Mr Stoltenberg, the imbalance is untenable. Germany, which has more budgetary room for manoeuvre than any other NATO country, spends a paltry 1.2% of its GDP on defence.

But European complacency has been jolted by Russia’s annexation of Crimea, frequent large-scale military exercises by Russian forces close to NATO’s border, constant probing of NATO’s air defences and Mr Putin’s thinly veiled nuclear threats. Last year its defence spending stopped falling; this year it will increase by 3%. Mr Trump’s strictures may provide further impetus, says Sandy Vershbow, a former deputy secretary-general of NATO. Next year’s NATO summit could provide an opportunity for every member to make a firm commitment to reach the 2% target within five years, with more money being made available to “project stability” outside Europe.

Transactions cost In his telephone call with Mr Trump, Mr Stoltenberg outlined the ways in which the alliance is adapting to meet new threats, including transnational terrorism, cyber warfare and mass migration, which even a fortress America cannot tackle alone. Sir Nigel Sheinwald, a former British ambassador in Washington, reckons that European allies should frame their arguments to appeal to the new president by pointing out the commercial interest America has in European security and the extent to which the economies of the European Union and America are integrated. If Mr Trump listens to General Mattis, he will be reminded of how America’s NATO allies both answered the call and stayed the course in Afghanistan. But the idea of NATO as a “community of destiny”—an alliance of like-minded people with shared values who stand by each other through thick and thin—is “unlikely to cut it with Mr Trump”, says Mr Vershbow. He fears that Mr Trump will quickly strike a deal with Mr Putin over Ukraine, which would be “very divisive”. Some NATO members might go along with it; others would be appalled. America’s allies in the Middle East have more to ponder on than they may yet realise. Ken Pollack, a former CIA analyst now at the Brookings Institution, says that they appear “very confident” that Mr Trump will be an improvement on Mr Obama: “He hates Iran; we hate Iran.” The hawkish Israeli prime minister, Binyamin Netanyahu, will applaud any attempt to put Iran back in its box. At least in the short term, America’s relationship with Israel will be under less stress: Mr Trump has shown little interest in reviving the moribund peace process with the Palestinians. Egypt and most of the Gulf states will be thrilled if Mr Trump follows through on a promise to designate the Muslim Brotherhood as a terrorist organisation, which would make it easier to justify repressing them. But there should be uneasiness, too, says Jon Alterman, a Middle East analyst at CSIS. Many in the region are uncomfortable about the way Mr Trump and General Flynn characterise Islam. Mr Trump has said that “Islam hates us”; General Flynn once tweeted that “Fear of Muslims is RATIONAL…”. Much though the Saudis would welcome a tougher stance towards Iran, their widely criticised and inconclusive military intervention in Yemen has given them reason to doubt their ability to manage the consequences of a forceful Iranian pushback. Mr Pollack predicts that if Mr Trump does indeed team up with Russia to destroy IS in Syria, as he has suggested he will, the result would be to hand victory in Syria’s civil war to its president, Bashar al-Assad, and his main backer, Iran.

And what of Iraq, where any prospect of creating order from chaos will depend on America thwarting Iran’s strategy of turning it into a Shia fief? Jordan, too, will require support to survive the destabilising consequences of the war in Syria. The idea of just “taking swings” at jihadists will not work, says Mr Pollack. Mr Trump may dislike the region even more than Mr Obama, “but it sucks you back in”.

Mr Trump has indicated that with America no longer needing Middle East oil it can leave the Saudis to look after themselves. At the very least, he will demand they stump up even more if American military support is to continue. But if Mr Trump’s carbon-friendly energy policies keep oil prices low, they may struggle to find the money. To preserve at least the notion of a strategic alliance, Mr Alterman thinks the Saudis’ best bet will be to point out what their unique intelligence networks bring to the fight against terrorism.

Buckle up!

Soon America’s allies will be able to stop guessing about the effects of Mr Trump’s presidency and start to deal with the reality. They will be able to gauge much from his words and behaviour at the next NATO summit, which may be as early as spring, and the G7 meeting in the summer—assuming, that is, that he shows up.

One possibility is that, after all the campaign bluster, Mr Trump turns out not to be particularly interested in foreign policy. Much of the responsibility for managing America’s alliances would then fall to General Mattis, Mr Tillerson and congressional leaders of a more traditional conservative bent. The other is that some kind of Trump doctrine emerges—and that it throws America’s alliances into turmoil. It is a measure of just how much Mr Trump differs from his predecessors that nobody, perhaps not even the president-elect himself, knows which of the two it will be.