Political hawks frequently champion the concept of “credibility” as the cornerstone of U.S. foreign policy. Yet, the gap between their rhetoric and actions often undermines America’s global standing.
In his confirmation hearing last year, Secretary of State Marco Rubio framed his approach as “peace through strength by restoring the credibility of American deterrence.”
When President Donald Trump deployed special forces in an attempt to capture Venezuelan leader Nicolás Maduro, Vice President J.D. Vance declared, “Maduro is the newest person to find out that President Trump means what he says.” Similarly, Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth asserted last month that “Iran is learning the hard way that President Trump means what he says.”
This praise is ironic. Trump’s record is marked by inconsistency—threats that are later abandoned, promises that are reversed, and statements that contradict actions. For example, in 2019, he threatened to take over Greenland from Denmark, declaring he would do so “the easy way” or “the hard way.” By January 20, he insisted, “there can be no going back.” Yet, the very next day, he agreed to a “framework for a future deal” granting the U.S. expanded military access to the island. The episode faded quickly, much like his repeated threats to impose global tariffs.
In the Middle East, Trump has repeatedly set and extended deadlines for Iran to reopen the Strait of Hormuz, signaling shifting red lines and weakening deterrence.
There is a pattern here. In his 1987 book The Art of the Deal, Trump wrote, “Sometimes it pays to be a little wild,” explaining that he creates fear and then allows opponents to propose favorable alternatives. This strategy may yield short-term gains but ultimately damages credibility. It relies on a mismatch between stated intentions and actual behavior.
A common defense of Trump’s approach, popularized by conservative journalist Salena Zito, is that people should take him “seriously, not literally.” If so, why invoke “credibility” at all?
The Nixon-Kissinger Legacy: Credibility as a Hollow Concept
The contradiction isn’t unique to Trump. Decades earlier, President Richard Nixon and his national security adviser Henry Kissinger obsessively invoked the need to preserve American “credibility.” Yet they also championed the “madman theory”—the idea that appearing irrational, unpredictable, and even dangerous could intimidate adversaries.
This contradiction lies at the heart of much hawkish foreign policy logic. For many hawks, “credibility” is not about honesty or reliability. Instead, it functions as code for pride, toughness, or the appearance of strength—even when it comes at the cost of being believed.
The Vietnam War and the Cost of Perceived Credibility
The Nixon era illustrates what happens when the madman strategy fails. Nixon and Kissinger knew the Vietnam War was unwinnable. Yet Kissinger argued that a sudden withdrawal would damage U.S. credibility, as other nations might interpret it as weakness. He resolved to “drag on the process” of losing.
Nixon played the madman—alternating between diplomatic overtures and threats of nuclear escalation—while escalating bombing campaigns in North Vietnam and secretly invading Cambodia. These actions resulted in tens of thousands of additional casualties and prolonged a war that could not be won.
The pursuit of credibility, in this context, became a justification for prolonging human suffering and strategic failure. It prioritized perception over substance, strength over wisdom, and pride over progress.
Today, as U.S. leaders continue to invoke credibility as a guiding principle, the lessons of history remain clear: when credibility becomes a slogan rather than a practice, it erodes trust, invites miscalculation, and ultimately makes America—and the world—less secure.