On Wednesday, Donald Trump and former Dutch prime minister Mark Rutte sat down for a press conference at the NATO summit in The Hague.

Asked about the ongoing war between Israel and Iran — a conflict that, despite his promises of peace and isolationism, Trump himself dragged the United States into — the president expressed his thoughts in characteristically inappropriate terms: “They’ve had a big fight, like two kids in a schoolyard. They fight like hell; you can’t stop them. Let them fight for about two, three minutes, then it’s easier to stop them.”

Usually whichever world leader happens to sit next to Trump just listens. Sometimes they force a smile, steal a concerned or confused glance at the cameras, or put on a poker face to try to hide their disbelief at the situation.

Rutte didn’t quite do this. Stooping down to — or rather below — Trump’s rhetorical level, he replied with all the tact and grace you’d expect from a seasoned statesman: “Daddy has to sometimes use strong language.”

This comment is eyebrow-raising enough on its own but even more so considering that Rutte is currently serving as secretary general of NATO, the most powerful military alliance on the planet. Worse still is the fact that this wasn’t a Freudian slip or translation error (although the Dutch are famous for their use of cute diminutives) but part of a larger effort to conduct diplomacy by appealing to Trump’s ego. During the conference, Rutte picked up where a private Signal message he sent to Trump the day before, and which Trump subsequently leaked to Truth Social, had left off:

Mr. President, dear Donald, Congratulations and thank you for your decisive action in Iran, that was truly extraordinary, and something no one else dared to do. It makes us all safer. You are flying into another big success in The Hague this evening. It was not easy but we’ve got them all signed onto 5 percent! Donald, you have driven us to a really, really important moment for America and Europe, and the world. You will achieve something NO American president in decades could get done. Europe is going to pay in a BIG way, as they should, and it will be your win. Safe travels and see you at His Majesty’s dinner!

While some European officials were embarrassed by Rutte’s conduct (speaking anonymously, one source told Politico that “the sucking up was pretty over the top”), others followed his example. “The vibes were good,” someone else said. “This is the Trump effect.” Diplomats reportedly congratulated the president on brokering a cease-fire between Israel and Iran, one that both parties have since violated. The Dutch king took part in the operation too, inviting Trump — a well-known fanboy of all things royal and dynastic — to a palace sleepover.

While social media responses to Rutte’s “daddy” comment were largely negative — one user called the NATO chief a “groveling toadie,” another “Trump’s favorite puppet” — regular news media has been more forgiving. Both inside and outside the Netherlands, articles describe Rutte’s flattery strategy as shrewd, ingenious, and effective and refer to Rutte himself as a “pragmatic Atlanticist” and a “Trump whisperer” — someone who knows, better than any other world leader, how to get the rabid dog that’s Donald Trump to sit.

In truth, Rutte isn’t Animal Planet’s dog whisperer Cesar Millan so much as an ordinary mailman. He’s not training or hypnotizing Trump, only distracting him so he can deliver the paper without getting torn to shreds. But his conduct isn’t just embarrassing. If he might think that he can flatter the US president into honoring Article 5 in case of a Russian attack on Romania, Finland, or the Baltics or get him to retract his tariff-fueled trade war between the United States and the European Union, the NATO chief is managing only to encourage Trump to continue down his reckless path.

Under Rutte’s leadership, this year’s NATO summit was less concerned with facing the alliance’s biggest challenges than making sure that its guest of honor was having a good time. Talking points were scrapped or shortened in accordance to the president’s interests and attention span, with the final communiqué consisting of just five paragraphs compared to last year’s thirty-eight. Pressing yet divisive topics — from the war in Ukraine to the argument that countries can’t up their defense budgets while being hit with tariffs — went largely ignored.

Still, some see reason to believe that Rutte’s strategy is paying off, mainly because Trump appears to have left the summit in a better mood than he did the year before. Back then, he arrived late, shoved Montenegro’s head of state, Duško Marković, upended scheduled plans with an emergency meeting to repeat his well-known plans to withdraw, and left early. This time, he told the press that he had a different, seemingly pleasant experience: “I watched the heads of these countries get up, and the love and the passion that they showed for their country was unbelievable. They want to protect their country, and they need the United States.”

Hopeful though those words may sound, Rutte and other European leaders would be foolish to think that they signal the onset of improved relations between the United States and Europe. Turning Trump into a friend is one thing; making sure he stays friendly is quite another. This much is evident from his track record back in the United States, where — with the notable exception of Stephen Miller — none of the key players in Trump’s first term managed to stick around for the second. Mike Pence, Rudy Guiliani, Elon Musk — many of the president’s most intimate political relationships have ended in fallouts that gave way to indifference, hostility, and spite.

Rutte’s mistake not only signifies poor judgement of character but also a lack of understanding of US politics. Behind the NATO chief’s determined, self-effacing efforts to cozy up to Trump is an unwillingness or inability to recognize that isolationist sentiment on the other side of the Atlantic goes far beyond the MAGA movement and will likely outlive Trump’s time in power. Even if Rutte’s camp manages to placate Trump in the short term — which remains a big if — a future president might well take up Trump’s precedent and refuse to offer Europe financial and military assistance.

Any plan of action that does not take this possibility seriously risks exacerbating NATO’s existential crisis. In order for the European Union to answer its eastern members’ fears of Russian imperial threats, its leaders must accept that they can no longer count on American money or might — regardless of who occupies the White House.

Rutte’s flattery poses a risk not only to European security but also to the survival of American democracy. By throwing himself — and, symbolically, all of Europe — at the US president’s feet, the NATO chief is essentially providing marketing services to Trump’s cult of personality back home. Video footage of the “daddy” comment, which quickly went viral across the world, feeds into the conservative-held belief that Trump is a powerful, capable leader, respected and feared by his less powerful, less capable international peers. The more Americans share this belief, the less resistance Trump’s movement will face on its path to dismantling anti-authoritarian institutions and guardrails.

Finally, there is one more, equally concerning outcome to consider: that Rutte’s flattery and submissiveness will work too well — that by putting himself at Trump’s disposal, he invites the latter to commandeer NATO the way he commandeers the US government, as a public means to achieving personal ends. In this respect, Rutte praising Trump for his “decisive action in Iran” — an action that supposedly “makes us all safer” — evokes visions of a future in which NATO members are forced to engage in preemptive proxy wars that are framed as acts of self-defense, lest Trump withdraws their funding.

In light of Rutte’s interactions with Trump, one cannot help but wonder about the motivations behind his appointment to the secretary general’s office last October, on the eve of Trump’s return to the White House. Although the position has historically been filled by relatively uncontroversial figures, it is possible that the appointment of Dutchman Rutte — a politician without stage presence, hailing from a country without stage presence — was meant to send an additional signal to the United States: even though you want to abandon the family, you are still our daddy, and we’ll do anything to convince you to come home.