By T N Ashok
By the standards of modern diplomacy, it was an unusual encounter. There were no bear hugs. No back-slapping theatrics. No clasped hands held aloft for the cameras as though two victorious prizefighters had just emerged from Madison Square Garden. The famous Trump-Modi choreography, perfected over years in Houston, Ahmedabad and Washington, appeared conspicuously absent on the sidelines of the G7 summit. Yet if the body language had cooled, the language itself had not. Instead, President Donald Trump reached for a familiar instrument: hyperbole.
In the span of a few minutes, he described India’s Prime Minister Narendra Modi as “an angel,” “a very tough cookie,” “the best-looking guy,” “a killer,” “a tough trader,” and one of the world’s foremost leaders alongside China’s Xi Jinping. He even ventured into security guarantees, declaring that the United States would come to India’s aid if another nation attacked it. The two countries, he proclaimed, “cannot be closer than we are.”
It was classic Trump: part compliment, part sales pitch, part improvisational stand-up routine. The difficulty, as always, lies in determining where admiration ends and performance begins. For seasoned observers of Trump, words are not always promises. Sometimes they are merely weather patterns.
On Monday he may praise a leader as a genius. On Tuesday that same leader is weak and incompetent. By Wednesday he may be announcing a beautiful friendship once again. Trump has elevated contradiction into an art form. He is perhaps the only politician in modern history who can occupy multiple positions on the same issue before lunch.
This is not necessarily dishonesty in the conventional sense. It is something strange. Trump approaches politics the way a real-estate developer approaches a property negotiation. Every room is temporary. Every conversation is transactional. Every compliment is an investment whose returns may be collected later.
Seen through that lens, the extravagant praise showered upon Modi says less about Modi than it does about Trump’s immediate objectives. The timing is revealing.
Washington and New Delhi are attempting to accelerate negotiations toward a long-discussed $500-billion trade relationship. Officials from both sides have been tasked with ironing out remaining disagreements on tariffs, market access, agricultural products, digital commerce and manufacturing investments.
Trump, despite his reputation as a tariff enthusiast, understands India’s importance. The United States sees India as a strategic counterweight to China, a vast consumer market, a manufacturing alternative to East Asia and an increasingly important defence partner.
India, meanwhile, needs American investment, technology, energy supplies and geopolitical support as it balances its relationships with Russia, China and the wider West. The interests are real. The affection is optional.
Thus when Trump calls Modi an “angel,” one suspects he is less engaged in theological assessment than diplomatic marketing. The word itself is almost comically Trumpian.
Modi, after all, is hardly known internationally as an ethereal celestial being floating above earthly concerns. Friends and critics alike describe him as disciplined, strategic, relentless and intensely political. “Tough cookie” would probably fit more comfortably than “angel.”
But Trump rarely settles for one adjective when six will do. His political vocabulary has always resembled a New York tabloid headline writer locked inside a casino. Everyone is either tremendous, terrible, beautiful, weak, fantastic, horrible or some combination thereof.
Modi became merely the latest recipient of this verbal confetti. The more intriguing phrase was “killer.” In most diplomatic settings, describing a fellow world leader as a killer would trigger a minor international incident. In Trump’s lexicon, however, it is intended as praise. A killer is somebody who wins. Somebody ruthless. Somebody effective. Somebody who gets deals done.
It is the language of boardrooms, not foreign ministries. Whether Modi appreciates being described as a geopolitical hitman is another matter entirely. Then there was the declaration that America would come to India’s defence if attacked. This was perhaps the most consequential statement of all—and therefore the one that should be treated with the greatest caution.
The United States and India are close strategic partners. They cooperate extensively on defence, intelligence, technology and maritime security. But they are not treaty allies in the manner of NATO members, Japan or South Korea.
Presidents do not create military obligations through impromptu remarks at summit sidelines. Foreign policy professionals in Washington have learned over the years to distinguish between Trump’s official positions and Trump’s conversational improvisations. Sometimes the two overlap. Sometimes they collide.
The challenge for allies is determining which version has appeared on a given day. This uncertainty was highlighted elsewhere during the summit.
Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni reportedly dismissed Trump’s suggestion that she had been eager for a selfie with him. Such disputes have become a recurring feature of Trump’s international engagements. Media at G7 actually used the word ” begged” for Meloni to Trump but not so widely reported.
Reality, in the Trump era, often arrives with competing versions. His supporters argue that this unpredictability is a strength. Rivals remain off-balance. Negotiations become fluid. Traditional diplomatic scripts are discarded. Critics see something different. They see a president whose statements possess the shelf life of fresh milk.
The problem is not merely inconsistency. It is inflation. When every leader is amazing, historic, brilliant and transformative, language loses value. Diplomatic praise becomes like a currency printed in excessive quantities. The notes remain colourful, but purchasing power declines.
Modi has experienced this phenomenon before. One year Trump may describe him as a great friend. Another year he may complain about India’s tariffs. Then he may return to celebrating one of the strongest partnerships in the world. All three statements can emerge from the same administration because all three serve different moments.
Indeed, Trump’s comments about Modi and Xi Jinping reveal something fundamental about how he views global politics. He admires strength. Not ideology. Not political systems. Not democratic credentials. Just Strength.
Whether it is Xi in Beijing, Modi in New Delhi, or other powerful leaders elsewhere, Trump gravitates toward figures who project authority and command large nations. His respect is often less about agreement than capability. That is why he can praise leaders whose policies he simultaneously opposes.
For Trump, effectiveness is frequently more important than alignment. Yet behind all the colourful rhetoric lies a more prosaic reality. The Trump-Modi relationship today is entering a new phase. The early years were defined by spectacle: stadium rallies, massive crowds, choreographed displays of personal chemistry and mutual political benefit. The current phase is more transactional.
Trade figures matter. Technology transfers matter. Supply chains matter. Defence procurement matters. Artificial intelligence matters. Semiconductor investments matter. The hugs have given way to spreadsheets. That may explain why this particular summit felt different. The warmth was verbal rather than visual. The smiles were fewer. The symbolism was restrained.
Both leaders arrived carrying national interests rather than friendship bracelets. And perhaps that is the true story hidden beneath Trump’s cascade of compliments. The angel, the tough cookie and the killer are all variations of the same message.
Trump wants a deal. Modi wants a deal. The negotiators have been instructed to move faster. The remaining disputes are commercial rather than personal. Everything else—the adjectives, the flattery, the grand declarations—is background music.
For journalists, however, Trump’s language remains irresistible material. It transforms ordinary diplomatic meetings into theatre reviews. Every summit becomes a guessing game in which analysts attempt to determine whether the President’s latest remark represents policy, strategy, improvisation or entertainment.
Usually it is a little of all four. Which brings us back to the original question: how seriously should Trump’s statements be taken? The safest answer may be this. Take seriously the interests behind the words. Take the trade negotiations seriously. Take seriously the strategic convergence between Washington and New Delhi. Take seriously the growing importance of India in American calculations.
But take Trump’s adjectives the way one takes weather forecasts from a man who changes seasons three times a day. Today’s angel can become tomorrow’s tough negotiator and next week’s disappointment.
In Trump’s world, consistency is overrated, hyperbole is a governing philosophy, and every diplomatic conversation is part statecraft, part reality television. The remarkable thing is not that he called Modi an angel. The remarkable thing is that by the time the next summit arrives, nobody would be surprised if he called him something entirely different. (IPA Service)
