The bully’s pulpit: Finding patterns in Trump’s use of military force

“We are going to stop the bombing of the Houthis, effective immediately,” said US president Donald Trump from the Oval Office on Tuesday. The announcement, which came out of nowhere and apparently in response to the Houthis’ apparent agreement to halt their attacks on US ships in the Red Sea, highlights how Trump’s decisions to use or not use force are often surprising to observers.

In his first term as president, from 2017 until 2021, Trump frequently threatened military force and somewhat less frequently actually used America’s fearsome military instrument. Since retaking office in January 2025, Trump’s threats have widened beyond the usual suspects to include such novel targets as Greenland, Panama and Mexican drug cartels. But the relationship between Trump’s threats and his actual use of force is far from straightforward: there are many instances where his threats have come to nothing, while he has also used force without threat. It thus seems even more urgent for both domestic and global audiences to know when Trump means it—and when does he not. 

Trump uses threats and force much like a playground bully: while large and outwardly powerful, he actually fears the use of force in any situation even vaguely resembling a fair fight

Commentators frequently describe Trump as unpredictable, but looking at the data on his threats and uses of force, a pattern emerges. Trump uses threats and force much like a playground bully: while large and outwardly powerful, he actually fears the use of force in any situation even vaguely resembling a fair fight. For the bully, threats are for the purpose of intimidation rather than a prelude to violence. Actual violence only occurs against much weaker foes that have no hope of striking back.

But this is not a new observation about Trump. Indeed, back in the 1980s, Trump was the model for American culture’s quintessential bully—the Biff character in Back to Future.

All bark, less bite

This commentary analyses two datasets, which catalogue Trump’s actual use of force and directly record the threats which Trump has made to use force over the course of both his first term and second term so far.

From the analysis, three core conclusions emerge: first, that Trump was more likely to follow through with threats when they were tied to a specific provocation and had low escalation risk; second, that threats against nuclear or conventionally strong states were rarely acted upon and largely served rhetorical purposes; and third, the most extreme or theatrical threats tended to be tools of political signalling rather than precursors to real military action. The idea of starting involvement in any long-term or risky military operation seems an anathema to him.

In other words, the data suggest a bully’s calculated use of bluster and limited use of violence. Trump often deploys grandiose threats but only accepts limited, low-risk military operations. He uses foreign policy as political theatre, aiming threats as much at his domestic base and media cycle as at foreign adversaries. In doing so, Trump has converted the American presidency into the bully’s pulpit.

For Trump’s second term, this implies a large and predictable gap between presidential rhetoric and actual American military action. For global actors, recognising patterns in his past behaviour offers a crucial window into how the president may behave under renewed pressure.

Threats followed by force

Each situation in which Trump has followed through on his threat to use force has typically shared three characteristics: a recent and specific provocation; a limited and clearly defined military objective; and minimal risk of escalation into a broader war. For instance, Trump’s threats against the Bashar al-Assad regime in Syria following its domestic chemical weapon attacks in 2017 and 2018 were swiftly followed by missile and airstrikes. Similarly, after Qassem Soleimani, the commander of Iran’s Quds Force, was implicated in attacks on US personnel, Trump ordered a targeted drone strike that eliminated him.

Nevertheless, the Soleimani strike remains the riskiest use of force in Trump’s tenure, with many observers worried that it would lead to a broader US-Iran confrontation. At the same time, Trump only took the decision after Gina Haspel, the former CIA director, assured him that the Iranian response would be limited and containable. In other words, the strike against Soleimani was not as risky as it appeared.

Overall, Trump’s decision to use force appears more reactive than preemptive. In the case of Somalia and Yemen during his second term, the US launched airstrikes immediately after attacks or following imminent threats from al-Shabaab and ISIS-Somalia. The scope of these operations was narrow, targeting leadership or weapons sites rather than regime change or full-scale campaigns. Regionally, Trump threats cover the globe; his actual decisions to use force mostly target non-state groups without international reach in the broader Middle East and Afghanistan.

This pattern suggests that Trump’s use of force is more tactical than strategic. He favoured limited engagements with achievable goals, often leveraging overwhelming US capabilities against enemies who could not strike back to send a message of strength without risking prolonged involvement.

The bully’s theatre

In his first term, Trump never accompanied his most bombastic threats—such as his promise to bring “fire and fury” on North Korea or his vow to “totally destroy” it at the UN—with actual military action. These statements often shocked both foreign and domestic audiences, but in retrospect they were more performative than preparatory. In fact, after these threats in 2017, Trump shifted toward diplomacy with North Korea, culminating in summits with its leader Kim Jong Un.

Figure 2: Trump’s threat language

Similarly, despite Trump’s multiple threats of “severe consequences” if Iran resumed its nuclear programme, no direct strikes occurred in response to the country’s nuclear advances alone. Instead, the president employed sanctions and diplomatic isolation. And despite all the bluster, Iran’s brazen attack against Saudi Arabia’s Aramco energy facility in 2019 elicited no response from Trump.

These cases reveal a bully’s logic: Trump was willing to say nearly anything to establish dominance or deterrence, but he was unwilling to act when the consequences could involve a major war, especially with a nuclear or near-nuclear power.

Trump’s most extreme threats were rarely serious military plans. Statements like threatening to “wipe Afghanistan off the face of the earth” or boasting to Kim Jong Un about his “much bigger nuclear button” served as tools of psychological warfare and political theatre. Overall, the large majority of threats were not followed by force, highlighting the strategic or symbolic nature of many of these statements.

These utterances captured headlines, spooked adversaries and thrilled his political base. Indeed, such threats often seemed aimed at domestic audiences and were more about asserting dominance and invoking a law-and-order image than initiating military crackdowns.

Challenge the bully

This analysis challenges the caricature of Trump as reckless—the “madman theory” of international relations. Instead, it sees him emerge as a president who is deliberate in his calculations and fearful of risk, though prone to rhetorical extremes.

Foreign policy under Trump was often part of a broader performance strategy, aimed at both domestic constituencies and global adversaries. With Trump again in the White House, both audiences should recognise these patterns. When provoked but politically safe, Trump will act. When stronger powers are involved or outcomes uncertain, he likely will not. And when the cameras are rolling, his threats may say more about political optics than military intentions.

The targets of Trump’s threats would be wise to understand these dynamics. Demonstrating weakness will only invite attack. Greenland, with only 60,000 inhabitants and no appreciable military, would qualify as weak when isolated. But a Greenland strongly backed up by Denmark and the EU would have enough strength to scare a bully.

Overall, analysis suggests that, despite Trump’s threats, attacks against Iran, Denmark or Mexico are unlikely. On the other hand, local terrorist groups in Yemen and Somalia should expect to find missiles raining down on them at moments more aligned to the American political cycle than to events in the region. After all, bullies like to perform for an audience, but they back down when challenged.  Just ask Biff.