ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI, who died on May 26th, was a child of war. The smashing of his Polish homeland to rubble, first by Nazi invaders and then by the remorseless, brutish violence of Soviet communism, jolted him from a life of privilege—he was the son of a diplomat and nobleman—to one of uncertain exile. After that early brush with destruction and collapse, it is small wonder that the word “constructive” was among his highest praise for a policy.

The former national security adviser to President Jimmy Carter did not get every call right: he strongly backed a failed attempt to rescue American hostages in Iran in 1980, for instance. But he was prescient about the hidden divisions and weaknesses of the Soviet bloc in Europe. He was right about the risks of invading Iraq in 2003. He will be remembered as among the most eloquent champions of an American-led international order that took a generous view of the superpower’s self-interest. He often sounded like a master-builder when describing the global policy “architecture” needed to allow other nations to be free and to prosper. He saw America “buttressing” and stabilising a world being unbalanced by emerging powers.

Retreat may tempt many Americans, he wrote in his last book, “Strategic Vision—America and the Crisis of Global Power”, published in 2012. In that prophetic work he imagined nativists leading his country into a “garrison-state mentality”, even as other, more doveish Americans are tempted by “self-righteous cultural hedonism”. No other country is ready to take on America’s burden of leadership, argued Mr Brzezinski: certainly not China, an inward-looking power that prefers to play the long game. As for passive, fearful old Europe, it acts as if its goal is to become “the world’s most comfortable retirement home”.

Now America has a leader who is literally a builder. What is more, President Donald Trump seems to share Mr Brzezinski’s concern with extending American pre-eminence, at least for a few more years. As a candidate he accused foolish, cowardly and self-dealing political leaders of failing to see that America holds all the cards when competing with rivals like China. As president, he still talks of winning, a lot. He did so when addressing American soldiers, sailors and airmen in Sicily on May 27th, on the final stop of his first foreign tour, when he congratulated himself for browbeating NATO governments over defence spending.

Yet a gulf separates the Brzezinski and Trump views of American leadership. In March Mr Brzezinski called Mr Trump’s handling of foreign affairs “chaotic, unclear, unfocused”. Mr Brzezinski’s career was spent thinking about and defending a Pax Americana, built around post-war alliances and formal institutions. If that meant America, the global hegemon, buying the consent of smaller nations by providing global goods, from security to rules underpinning an open trading system, that was a worthwhile long-term investment. To internationalists, America enjoys precious privileges as the designer of many multilateral organisations. No country has the same veto rights as America at the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank. No country has such power over which generals run NATO.

It is hard to convey how strongly that expansive worldview is rejected in Mr Trump’s White House. The president’s inner circle makes America sound like an ageing, declining hegemon with a grievance, one that may squeeze a few more years of primacy—but only if it becomes tougher and more selfish. Perhaps American businesses gained from schemes such as the Marshall Plan, by which Europe was rebuilt. Maybe, during the cold war, the CIA used American overseas development aid to advance the fight against communism. But somewhere along the way, according to TrumpWorld, bleeding-heart liberals took over and started giving away America’s wealth without measuring the returns.

During the Saudi Arabian leg of his foreign tour, Mr Trump pointed to $110bn in Saudi spending on American arms and military kit as a concrete proof that his country was forging new and stronger partnerships to fight terrorism and advance security across the region and beyond. “We will be sure to help our Saudi friends get a good deal from our great American defence companies,” Mr Trump beamed, in almost the same breath as he promised not to “lecture” the 50 or so Arab monarchs and autocrats gathered to hear him on how they govern: a none-too-subtle promise to put interests ahead of values or human rights.

Brand values

That is not the sound of an architect designing new policy structures. It is the sound of a promoter, wooing clients. One way to understand Mr Trump’s foreign-policy instincts is to consider his business career. Many of his property deals in recent years have been licensing agreements, in which the Trump name is slapped on a hotel or apartment complex designed, funded and built by others. If Mr Trump talks of new, American-led partnerships (aides have talked vaguely about an Arab NATO, for instance), the underlying thinking seems strikingly similar. To hear Mr Trump and his team describe statecraft, America sounds like a faded but still-valuable brand-name. The clever tactic is to bolt that name in giant brass letters on structures, even if they are built according to others’ standards. If other countries are ready to pay, Mr Trump is not about to judge.

Inside Mr Trump’s White House, the anxiety of foreign leaders is ascribed to their guilty consciences, after years of taking America for granted. It is an article of faith that previous generations of soft, weak leaders stupidly allowed others to push America into relative decline. Mr Trump’s inner circle sincerely scorns the foreign policies of previous administrations, from the Obama era back to the days of Bill Clinton or both Bushes. That contempt extends to the global institutions that Mr Trump inherited. This builder is a demolition man.