At the start of Israel's campaign against Iran, Donald Trump kept a cautious tone. "I am aware of what Israel is doing, but I intend to continue talks with Iran on Sunday," he said. His words were deliberate and conservative, suggesting that he wanted to maintain flexibility.
Trump wasn’t rushing to get involved, and his caution is understandable. Committing to a US military strike is a monumental decision, one that leaves no room for retreat. And he knew that.
After championing "America First", he felt compelled to back it up. But soon enough, that sense of responsibility gave way to his personal need for recognition. As Israel's actions earned global praise—and as it became clear that even Europe was siding with it—Trump couldn’t help but shift his position. Images of Tehran's crippled defense systems, explosions, and gridlock only intensified the pressure.
Trump’s statements tell the story. At the outset, he declared, "We knew everything, and I tried to save Iran humiliation and death.” A few days later, after initial successes, his tone sharpened: “I have no interest in negotiations – I expect nothing less than complete surrender,” followed by a briefer, even more hawkish remark: “There’s more to come – a lot more.”
Trump’s shift was dramatic—he transitioned almost overnight from a diplomatic figure advocating for mediation to an imaginary commander-in-chief, demanding nothing less than Tehran's surrender and even calling for the city’s evacuation. It was no longer just about having information; now, Trump wanted to lead, to dictate, and to stamp the American flag on the outcome.
So, what happened?
The role of personal psychology
Trump’s psychological makeup is key to understanding this transformation. He is a man who cannot stand by while others earn glory. This isn't about being left out of the game—it's about not being associated with the victory. As soon as Israel’s move turned into a visible success, Trump could no longer sit on the sidelines.
It’s a familiar pattern throughout his career. The action-oriented figure, the man who craves dramas with clear resolutions, witnessed an unfolding situation where he wasn’t involved. And whenever an opportunity arises to claim a win or become part of a major success, Trump’s instinct is to take center stage.
The psychology of presidential FOMO
What we’re seeing here could be termed “presidential FOMO”—the fear of missing a historic moment. Trump is under dual pressures: As president, he’s expected to lead, yet as Israel takes the spotlight, he’s left wondering why he isn't at the heart of the action. This creates a sense of cognitive dissonance, the kind that drives him to reclaim his position.
His response—a sharp shift from caution to aggression—is exactly what psychologists call "reactive narcissism." When a narcissist feels neglected or when someone else steals the spotlight, they react with exaggerated behavior to force their way back into the limelight. Trump’s quotes - “We knew everything,” “complete surrender” - are not just policy pronouncements. They are shouts of “Look at me!”
The need to control the narrative
Trump's zigzagging stance—first calling for talks, then shifting to attacks, followed by an ultimatum and finally “complete surrender”—isn’t just a tactical maneuver; it’s a deep-seated psychological need to control the narrative. He wants to rewrite himself from a bystander into the leading figure.
Furthermore, there's an interesting psychological concept at play here called "retroactive ownership." Trump’s assertion of “We knew everything” is his way of saying, “This was my plan all along.” It lets him sidestep the uncomfortable feeling of having been caught off guard by events.
When ego meets reality
And reality quickly intervened. Reports about the Supreme Leader of Iran’s failing health, along with the instability in Tehran and the possibility of regime change, were not developments any American president—especially Trump—would want to miss.
But this is where personal psychology and geopolitics merge. It's not that Trump’s acting purely out of ego—there’s also a real opportunity in front of him, one that may soon pass. Yet his reaction—swift, decisive, and without room for doubt—appears more rooted in his psychological needs than in cold, strategic calculation.
This is why we hear the hardline ultimatums, and why diplomacy is summarily dismissed. It’s not just a strategy—it’s instinct. Trump’s not interested in being the one who “tried to stop” the conflict. He wants to be the one who “won” it.
The blurred line between rational decisions, personal dynamics
This raises an essential question: how many of these momentous decisions are based on rational considerations of national interest, and how many are driven by deeper psychological forces? In Trump’s case, the line between the two seems nonexistent.
America is likely entering the fray—not because it’s strategically necessary, but because Trump has made himself the central character in this narrative. And now, he must write an ending that aligns with the image he has built for himself.
The dangers of narcissistic leadership
This is the real danger of narcissistic leadership - not that the leader will make poor decisions, but that they will make decisions to preserve their self-image.
Trump is no longer choosing between peace and war. He’s choosing between being perceived as someone who made empty threats and being seen as the one who followed through. Given his personality, the choice is already made. The only remaining question is how far he’s willing to go.