Love him or hate him, it’s hard to deny the influence of Donald J. Trump on the American body politic. As the 45th and 47th president of the United States, his larger-than-life persona and bombastic rhetoric have made him one of the most controversial and consequential figures of the 21st century. To his supporters he’s a voice to the forgotten: Since his dramatic descent down the Trump Tower escalator in 2015, the American political landscape has been fundamentally reshaped. Trump didn’t just win the GOP two national elections, he redefined the Republican Party, wresting control from a floundering, out-of-touch establishment and remaking it in his own image.
Even Trump’s fiercest critics concede that the GOP is now more strategically adaptable than it was a decade ago. His early deviations from traditional Republican orthodoxy, embracing social media, softening stances on gay marriage and abortion, and courting minority voters, helped broaden the party’s appeal. He has jumped on the widespread unlikebilty of the current Democratic Party and stitched together a rag-tag coalition of those the “liberal elite” in America have left behind. It has to sting many Democrats that Trump’s 2024 playbook can be likened to the strategy Obama took in 2012. Now, Donald Trump and Barack Obama are very different men, but their campaigns strategies are very much the same: widespread appeal based on their public personas, broad, non-cohesive economic policies that target everyone from the sprawling middle class to Silicon Valley billionaires, and a diverse coalition spanning multiple demographics and political parties. But beneath the surface of this electoral success lies a deeper ideological fracture: the Republican Party is no longer a unified front. It is a coalition of three distinct factions: Trumpians, Neoconservatives, and Tradcons. And while they may have united behind Trump to defeat Vice President Kamala Harris in 2024, they agree on very little else.
Trumpians, the populist nationalists who now dominate the party’s grassroots, are deeply skeptical of globalism and foreign entanglements. Their foreign policy is transactional, rooted in the belief that America should only intervene abroad when its direct interests are at stake. They view traditional alliances like NATO with suspicion, preferring bilateral deals and economic leverage over military commitments. Tariffs, once a fringe idea in Republican circles, have become a centerpiece of Trumpian economic strategy. The “Liberation Day” tariffs, imposed not just on adversaries like China but also on allies such as Japan and the EU, reflect a broader shift toward protectionism. Trumpians argue that these measures are necessary to restore American manufacturing and reduce dependence on foreign supply chains. Critics, including many within the GOP, warn that such policies risk alienating allies and triggering trade wars that could harm American consumers and expose economic weaknesses our enemies could exploit.
Economically, Trumpians reject the free-market absolutism that defined the Reagan era. They favor industrial policy, government intervention in strategic sectors, and a more populist approach to taxation and spending. While they still support tax cuts, they are less concerned with deficit reduction and more focused on tangible benefits for working-class voters. Infrastructure spending, border security, and stimulus checks are all embraced as tools to strengthen national resilience. This marks a sharp departure from the fiscal conservatism of previous Republican administrations.
Socially, Trumpians are more pragmatic than other sects of Republicans. While many are personally conservative, they tend to downplay moral issues in favor of cultural ones. They are more likely to engage in battles over free speech, political correctness, and identity politics than to campaign on traditional values. Trump’s tolerance of gay marriage and his outreach to Black and Latino voters reflect this shift. For Trumpians, the culture war is less about religion and more about resisting what they see as elite liberal dominance in media, education, and corporate America.
Neoconservatives, by contrast, represent the old guard. These are your father’s Republicans: the Bush-era conservatives who believe in American global leadership, strong alliances, and military intervention to promote democracy. They view foreign policy as a moral duty, not just strategic planning. For neocons, America has a duty to defend liberal values abroad, even if it means prolonged military engagements. They supported interventions in Iraq and Afghanistan, and they remain committed to defending Ukraine against Russian aggression. Trump’s skepticism of NATO and his admiration for authoritarian leaders like Vladimir Putin are a source of antipathy to neocons’ outlook on the world.
On economic issues, neoconservatives are free-market purists. They oppose tariffs and protectionism, favoring deregulation, tax cuts, and global trade. For them, economic growth is best achieved through competition, innovation, and minimal government interference. They are deeply concerned about the national debt and advocate for the reform of social safety net programs and fiscal discipline. The Trumpian embrace of deficit spending and economic nationalism is viewed as a betrayal of conservative principles.
Socially, neocons are more moderate. While they support religious liberty and oppose progressive overreach, they tend to avoid the culture wars. Immigration, for example, is seen as a net positive, both economically and morally. Many neocons support pathways to citizenship and oppose harsh enforcement measures. Their focus is on policy, not populist rhetoric, and they often find themselves out of step with the party’s base.
Then there are the Tradcons, the moral conservatives who formed the backbone of the GOP for decades. When you think of the conservative archetype, these are the people who come to mind: churchgoing, family-oriented, and deeply invested in preserving traditional values, they supported candidates like Romney and Cruz before reluctantly backing the more crudely verbose Trump.
Their foreign policy is hawkish, often shaped by religious convictions and a desire for moral clarity abroad, but they also have a hawkish side, prone to isolationism if they feel their values aren’t sufficiently represented in the course or cause of the intervention. They support strong defense spending and view America’s role in the world as a force for good. Unlike Trumpians, they see alliances as essential to maintaining global stability and advancing Judeo-Christian values.
Economically, Tradcons are conservative but cautious. They support free markets but are wary of policies that harm rural or working-class communities. They favor tax cuts and deregulation but are skeptical of globalization’s impact on American families. While they prefer small government, they will tolerate expansion if it protects their values, especially on issues like abortion, religious liberty, and education.
Social issues are central to the Tradcon worldview. They are deeply committed to opposing abortion, defending traditional marriage, and resisting progressive gender ideology. For Tradcons, the culture war is not just political, it’s a moral battleground for the soul of the nation. They view the erosion of traditional norms as a threat to the nation’s moral fabric and believe the GOP must take a firm stand on these issues.
The success of Trump’s big tent strategy in 2024 masked these divisions. His coalition, built from all three factions, was enough to win a landslide in the electoral college and a narrow victory in the popular vote, a feat Republicans hadn’t accomplished since George W. Bush’s 2004 win over John Kerry (seen by many as the prototypical New England snob). Some Republicans now claim this gives Trump a mandate to enact sweeping change. But that narrative ignores the elephant in the room: these factions are fundamentally at odds. They disagree on foreign policy, economics, the role of government, and the very definition of conservatism. What unites them is not a shared vision but a shared enemy, whether that be the Democratic Party, the media, coastal academic elites, or the administrative state.
This tension was easy to overlook during the campaign. After all, foreign policy rarely decides elections. Most Americans care more about domestic issues, jobs, healthcare, or inflation, than about Ukraine or NATO. Disagree? Then name five people whose number one priority at the ballot box last November was the war in Ukraine.
…I’m waiting.
The American public tends to tune out foreign affairs unless national security feels directly threatened. That’s why terrorism still ranks high among voter concerns. However, you can’t overlook foreign policy when you’re actually governing, and the differences between the Republican factions are beginning to get ugly. Should we support Israel, or not? Conservative evangelicals have historically been deeply supportive of the state of Israel, but more and more conservative Catholics are turning away from the Jewish state due to perceived war crimes in the Gaza Strip that include a small Catholic population which has been under siege with the rest of the Palestinians since the start of the war on October 7th. And what about Ukraine? Despite Trump’s promises for a quick end into the war, it has been months and there is no cease-fire in sight. What is the United States to do about Vladimir Putin? Neocons talk as though they would prefer a coup against the Russian president. Some Trumpians, fueled by conservative conspiracy theories that target, the legitimacy of the Ukrainian government, feel as though Russia is a more reliable ally than the Ukrainians and in the right. Trads tend to be more split: they don’t necessarily love Vladimir Putin, but they are also deeply against US intervention in Eastern Europe. No matter how you spin it, it’s safe to say that when it comes to foreign policy, there is little to no cohesion whatsoever within the Republican Party.
Trump may have won the presidency, but the Republican Party is more lost now than ever. As conservatives in the United States fight over what their dominant party will be, the ramifications of these in fighting factions will be felt within the new administration as the president tries to push forward his foreign and domestic policies. In conclusion, tariffs are just the beginning.
