It is now six months since Donald J. Trump re-occupied the White House amid unprecedented scenes of cheering multitudes hailing a political resurrection - and angry, nay, apoplectic protests from the Left and every corner of an establishment that had written him off, and possibly even tried to finish him off. The 2024 election was not merely a rematch between Trump and Biden; it was a referendum on globalism, bureaucratic tyranny, and the cultural war that has engulfed the West. Six months in, it is time for a review of how he’s done.
This is a candid report card, not a fawning celebration. Those of us who backed Trump not for his persona but for his policies and supported him, not because he was perfect, but because he had the audacity to declare war on corrupt globalist America, owe it to ourselves to ask the uncomfortable question: has the man truly returned to drain the swamp, crush the woke orthodoxy, and reclaim the republic from the managerial elites?
The answer, so far, is mixed. There is movement. Real movement, but limited and occasionally directionless or even in the wrong direction.
One of Trump’s central promises, and probably the promise that won him both of his presidencies, was to dismantle the bloated, self-perpetuating administrative state that governs without consent and undermines the will of the people. In 2016, he underestimated the depth and tenacity of the federal bureaucracy. In 2024, he came back wiser, meaner, and far more prepared.
In his first week as president Trump signed a series of executive orders aimed at reclassifying tens of thousands of federal employees as Schedule F, stripping them of civil service protections and enabling them to be fired. This was an idea gestated during his first term but blocked by the courts and his own Cabinet. Now, with allies like Stephen Miller and Russell Vought coordinating the so-called “Project 2025” blueprint, Trump has begun implementing a plan to hollow out the bureaucratic state and repopulate it with loyalists committed to constitutional government and national sovereignty.
Already, high-level resignations have rocked the Department of Justice, State Department, and Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). The National Security Council has been radically streamlined, with many Obama and Biden-era leftovers removed. Trump’s appointment of Jeffrey Clark, a man hysterically loathed by the leftist press, as Attorney General signalled a serious intent to prosecute criminal misconduct at the top levels of government.
Yet, the battle is far from won. Lawsuits have already been filed. Career bureaucrats are leaking to the press. The media is foaming at the mouth about “authoritarian purges.” But that is the point, isn’t it? The system is finally under threat. And the system is reacting. The mere fact that CNN and The Washington Post now scream about “civil service destruction” is proof that Trump’s second administration is doing what the first never could: it is naming the enemy and confronting it.
Wokeness, an insidious fusion of Marxist identity politics, transnational activism, and elite guilt, has for too long dictated the terms of debate in Western society. During his first term, Trump opposed it rhetorically but failed to root it out structurally. This time, his war on “woke” is not just in speeches; it is in policy, funding, and law.
On the domestic front, Trump has moved swiftly to defund federal Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives. Executive Order 14091, Biden’s DEI expansion mandate, has been rescinded. Agencies are now required to submit reports on DEI spending, with the clear implication that the tap is about to be turned off. Trump has tasked his Office of Management and Budget (OMB) with reviewing whether federally funded universities that promote race or gender-based admissions can continue to receive taxpayer money. A bold step, long overdue.
Perhaps most notably, the Department of Education is undergoing a serious transformation. Secretary of Education Christopher Rufo, once a conservative activist, now a cabinet official, is leading an aggressive audit of federally backed universities and school districts. Schools found pushing gender ideology or censoring speech are being threatened with loss of funding. Rufo's appointment alone represents a seismic shift as it is the first time someone with an avowed anti-woke agenda has been in a position to act on it nationally.
Internationally, Trump has taken steps, small ones to be sure, to realign America with patriotic populist movements around the world. His wonderful withdrawal from the WHO was one of his first foreign policy acts. The Paris Climate Agreement is again being deservedly shredded. Trump has reinstated his "America First Energy" policy, unlocking federal land for drilling and revoking mad “net zero” compliance mandates issued under Biden.
In his speech to the UN in March, Trump accused global bodies of “supra-national extortion,” bashing the World Economic Forum and pledging to investigate how much influence global think tanks and NGOs have over domestic U.S. policy. Unsurprisingly, Western European elites bristled, but leaders in Hungary, Argentina, and Slovakia cheered.
It is far too early to say Trump has crushed woke globalism. But he has perhaps changed the ship’s heading. I confess, however, to being confused as to which direction he’s heading in.
Free speech, the cornerstone of any free society, has been eroded in the US by a convergence of state-backed censorship, Silicon Valley monopolies, and the chilling power of cancel culture. In his first six months, Trump has made moves to break this stranglehold.
The most consequential action may prove to be the “Free Speech Restoration Act,” proposed by Trump allies in Congress and backed enthusiastically by the administration. Though not yet passed, the Act would classify major social media platforms as “common carriers,” subjecting them to non-discrimination rules akin to telecom companies. Trump has publicly threatened to break up companies like Google and Meta under antitrust law and has tasked the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) with launching investigations into algorithmic bias and political censorship.
Behind the scenes, whistleblowers from within the Department of Homeland Security and the FBI have begun cooperating with congressional Republicans to expose how government agencies colluded with tech firms to censor dissent, particularly during COVID and the 2020 election. The appointment of a new Special Counsel to investigate First Amendment violations involving tech companies and the federal government suggests Trump is serious about righting this wrong.
He has also ordered the Department of Justice (DOJ) to review Section 230 protections—a move that could dramatically alter how platforms police speech. Critics call it overreach; supporters see it as long overdue corrective justice.
At a cultural level, Trump has used his advantageous position more strategically. Instead of picking every fight, he has focused his rhetorical firepower on the most outrageous examples of censorship. His public embrace of independent media figures and platforms, like Substack journalists, Rumble creators, and alternative news networks, has begun to create a parallel information industry that doesn't rely on establishment gatekeepers.
Whether or not these efforts will permanently restore free speech in America remains uncertain. But the censorship-industrial complex is, at long last, under direct and aggressive assault.
One of the most frustrating aspects of Trump’s first term was how he allowed interventionist hawks to manipulate him into prolonging U.S. interference overseas. This time, the president has appeared determined to avoid that trap, though in recent days that has become murky.
However, within weeks of taking office, Trump ordered a full withdrawal of remaining U.S. troops in Syria. Though the Pentagon expressed concern about the “power vacuum,” Trump insisted that America must no longer act as “policeman of the world.” In Afghanistan, where Biden’s disastrous withdrawal had created chaos, Trump has taken a hands-off approach, focusing instead on securing diplomatic channels with regional powers.
Most striking has been his approach to Ukraine. The billions in aid that flowed to its corrupt regime under Biden have been halted. Trump has called for immediate ceasefire talks, publicly criticizing NATO allies for dragging their feet while American taxpayers foot the bill. Though the mainstream media has condemned his position as “pro-Putin,” Trump has made it clear: “We can support our allies without starting World War III.”
In Asia, Trump has adopted a less combative stance than during his first term. He has resumed negotiations with North Korea, urging a regional peace framework that doesn’t depend on American military presence. In Taiwan, he has walked a tightrope, arming the island while encouraging quiet diplomacy with Beijing. Critics see inconsistency; supporters see pragmatism.
For now, there are no new wars. Troop levels abroad are down. Military budgets are being reallocated toward homeland defense and veteran’s care. Peace, while fragile, is being given a chance. Of course, all this might change in a flash if Trump gets involved militarily in Iran. Most Americans do not want him to, and he is being deliberately ambiguous.
Trump’s position on Iran has always been hawkish in tone but cautious in execution. He withdrew the United States from the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), commonly referred to as the “Iran nuclear deal” during his first term, citing its inability to prevent Iran’s long-term enrichment ambitions. His policy of “maximum pressure” through sanctions, backed by the U.S. Department of the Treasury’s Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC), was intended to cripple Tehran’s regional ambitions and force a broader renegotiation.
Now Trump has returned to the same playbook but with updated tactics and higher stakes. In the past few days his administration has issued an “ultimate ultimatum,” demanding that Iran halt its nuclear enrichment entirely and surrender key military assets unconditionally. This follows growing alarm over Iranian activity at the Fordow underground enrichment facility, widely suspected to be impervious to conventional airstrikes.
According to reports, Trump has reviewed military strike options, including the deployment of the GBU-57 Massive Ordnance Penetrator—a so-called “bunker buster” bomb capable of reaching deeply buried targets. Yet he has so far declined to greenlight an attack. In public comments, Trump has said, “I may do it, I may not. Nobody knows what I’m going to do,” suggesting deliberate ambiguity.
Meanwhile, he has authorised the evacuation of U.S. nationals from key sites in the Middle East and warned civilians in Tehran to flee areas near suspected military targets. Oil markets responded nervously, and global commodity prices have surged. Trump’s administration has also reportedly engaged backchannel diplomacy via Oman and Qatar to deliver messages to Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei though, characteristically, Trump insists that the time for “talks under pressure” is over.
Critics accuse the President of dangerous brinkmanship, while supporters argue he is achieving through threat what years of diplomacy could not: hesitation and fragmentation within the Iranian regime. Notably, Trump has stopped short of direct military intervention, aligning instead with Israel’s right to self-defence while avoiding American boots on the ground.
So, at the time of writing, there have been no major strikes, no declaration of war, and no announcement of a new nuclear deal. What we are witnessing is Trumpian statecraft in its rawest form: high-stakes poker with a theocratic adversary, in which unpredictability is the primary weapon.
In summary. Trump’s first six months in office is not a tale of unmitigated triumph. Trump’s second term faces headwinds from every direction.
The judiciary, still full of Obama and Biden appointees, is already obstructing his reforms. Several executive orders on immigration, DEI, and tech oversight are tied up in court. The media has returned to “Russia hoax” levels of hysteria. And Congress, narrowly Republican, is split between Trump loyalists and establishment diehards.
There are also internal questions. Trump’s temperament, always mercurial, remains a risk. He has shown more discipline, but his vendetta against past enemies sometimes distracts from strategic goals. Appointments matter, and a few recent picks, particularly in the Pentagon, have raised eyebrows among the MAGA faithful.
Then there is the 2026 midterm clock. Time is short. The window for transformative reform is narrowing. If Trump is to permanently weaken the bureaucratic state and cement free speech and anti-globalism into law, he will need not just boldness but ruthlessness, discipline, and clarity of purpose.
Six months in, President Trump’s second term is not a return to the chaos of 2017, nor is it a triumphant parade. It is a brutal, grinding war of attrition against the most powerful institutions in the Western world. And that, frankly, is what we asked for.
We wanted someone who would face the administrative state and say, “You are illegitimate.” Someone who would defund the globalist NGOs and revoke the cultural mandates of the Ivy League elite. Someone who would call censorship what it is, tyranny. Someone who would choose peace not out of cowardice, but because the endless war machine has drained the moral and fiscal lifeblood of the nation.
Trump has not yet drained the swamp. But the pumps are on. The bureaucrats are sweating. The ideologues are screaming. And for the first time in decades, power in Washington feels uncertain, unsettled, nervous. That, in and of itself, is progress.
Whether it ends in triumph or tragedy will depend not only on Trump, but on whether the people who elected him are prepared to finish what they started.
In Britain, we face our own battles against bureaucracy, against ideological capture, against the erosion of liberty in the name of progressive orthodoxy. What happens in Washington echoes here. If Trump’s reckoning can succeed, it may yet be the beginning of something greater: not just an American revival, but a Western one. Let the reckoning continue.
As you will have gathered this was written before the bombing, surely a momentous act that will impact heavily on Trump's rating, so I thought I'd better add on a paragraph or two about it. To find out what they think I have spoken to a lot of friends and relatives in the US: about 30% were all for it, saying it'll teach these goddam Eyerainians not to meddle with the USA and show others who's boss. About the same number who opposed to it, reminding me that Trump says that we should not be the world's policeman and that we have enough problems at home to contend with, without incurring the expense of foreign wars. The rest were unsure or indifferent, viewing it as something that will not affect them.
And that, I suppose, will be the acid test. Will it affect the average American? Will it result in American lives being lost, or an increase in inflation, or domestic terrorism? Only time will tell.
For myself, I think it's a retrograde step that will come to dominate Trump's presidency for the next few months and make it more difficult to do his real job of turning the good ship America around and getting her back to a course for good old commons sense.