In November 1985, Mikhail Gorbachev arrived at his first summit with Ronald Reagan looking on and sounding nothing like any former Soviet leader. This was not a dour apparatchik in an oversized jacket, distributing dim Marxist monologues. Gorbachev wore a sharp suit, smiled for the camera and spoke in loud voices. The improvisation worked: The international audience was surprised by the Russian, of course even more than his American counterpart. It was the beginning of what would be called “Gorbymania.”
The irony was rich. Here was the general secretary of the Communist Party—supposedly representing the workers of the world—opposing, even surpassing, the charisma of a former Hollywood actor. It was an early warning that the rules of international politics were changing in ways that the cold warriors did not fully understand. The announcer was becoming the message, and the messenger was becoming the mediator.
In November 1985, Mikhail Gorbachev arrived at his first summit with Ronald Reagan looking on and sounding nothing like any former Soviet leader. This was not a dour apparatchik in an oversized jacket, distributing dim Marxist monologues. Gorbachev wore a sharp suit, smiled for the camera and spoke in loud voices. The improvisation worked: The international audience was surprised by the Russian, of course even more than his American counterpart. It was the beginning of what would be called “Gorbymania.”
The irony was rich. Here was the general secretary of the Communist Party—supposedly representing the workers of the world—opposing, even surpassing, the charisma of a former Hollywood actor. It was an early warning that the rules of international politics were changing in ways that the cold warriors did not fully understand. The announcer was becoming the message, and the messenger was becoming the mediator.
Hendrik W. Ohnesorge’s new judge book, Soft Power and Charismatic Leadership in German-American Relationsarrives at the right time to explain what has happened since then. In about 850 heavily researched pages, the political scientist of the University of Bonn does something extraordinary: He takes Joseph Nye’s concept of “soft power”—the ability to attract rather than coerce—and shows that in the 21st century, the personality of leaders has become the most important variable in how that power works.
Soft Power and Charismatic Leadership in German-American RelationsHendrik W. Ohnesorge, Springer, 852 pp., $209, December 2025.
More importantly, he shows why this represents a fundamental shift from the 20th century, when ideology, culture, and institutions did most of the uplifting work.
When Nye popularized the expression “soft power” in 1990, it was still possible to think about it mainly in terms of culture (Hollywood, jazz, blue jeans), values (democracy, human rights), and policies (Marshall Plan, international institutions). The personalities of individual leaders were important—think John F. Kennedy, or Reagan—but they were more like the cherry on top of an already impressive sundae. America’s soft power came primarily from what it was, not who led it.
This is why Richard Nixon or the holy Jimmy Carter did not destroy America’s attractiveness abroad. The rivalry of the Cold War was so intense, the ideological competition took over everything, that the personalities of the presidency were a secondary concern. Not even Leonid Brezhnev’s impressive lightness could undermine Soviet soft power among true believers; ideology carried weight. It didn’t matter that the man was as attractive as a concrete pillar.
But that world is gone. And Ohnesorge’s book—which traces five centuries of German-American relations but focuses heavily on Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, Barack Obama, and Donald Trump—shows why personality matters now more than ever.
The numbers tell a sad story. As Ohnesorge points out, when Bush left office in 2009, Germany’s approval of the United States had fallen to a historic low. When Obama arrived, approval ratings rose overnight. The swing had nothing to do with American culture (still dominant globally) or values (unchanged) or even policy (continuity in many aspects). It was pure personality effect. Obama’s charisma became what Ohnesorge calls the “fourth resource” of soft power, joining Nye’s original trinity.
The Trump years proved that pattern to the contrary. Between 2017 and 2021, every indicator of American power toward Germany collapsed—UN polling numbers, public approval—not because American universities got worse or Hollywood stopped making movies, but because of one man’s unfitness for global leadership. As Ohnesorge scornfully puts it, Trump’s presidency represents “a study in soft power” — meaning an increased, unfortunately exaggerated, loss of soft power.
Why is personality more important now? The answer lies in the fragmentation of the global information system and the lies of political elites everywhere.
During the Cold War, soft power worked mostly through institutions: cultural centers, exchange programs, international broadcasting. These were slow, long-term investments that built up momentum over time. Leaders can be boring because institutions did the job. The BBC World Channel and Radio Free Europe did not need charitable directors; they needed reliable content.
Leaders today it is the contents. In the age of social media, 24-hour news cycles, and TikTok diplomacy, political leaders have become celebrities whether they like it or not—and smart people love it. Like Anders Wivel and Caroline Howard Gron argue in their terrible works, Charismatic Leadership in Foreign PolicyModern leaders engage in “practices of communication” frequently that convey the meaning of “who we are and where we are going.”
This is no longer optional. It’s work.
India’s Narendra Modi is a master of political theatre, Emmanuel Macron casts himself as Europe’s philosopher king. Among those who have recently come out, Canada’s Justin Trudeau and New Zealand’s Jacinda Ardern built global profiles that far exceed their countries’ geographic weight. They’ve all read the same playbook: In an age dominated by celebrity, charisma it is policy.
This creates a complex environment that Cold War institutional power did not have. While soft power resided in cultures and institutions, it was stable. But when soft power becomes personal, it becomes brittle. What Ohnesorge calls the “pendulum of soft power” swings wildly every election: Clinton’s charisma to Bush’s disaster to Obama’s reinstatement to Trump’s demolition. Four-year (or eight-year) cycles are not enough to build anything sustainable. Partners cannot plan. Opponents can wait.
Juliet Kaarbo, a foreign policy scholar at the University of St Andrews who has written extensively on a leader’s personality and decision-making, warns of a worse possibility. in his research: Leaders’ personalities can change over time, usually for the worse. Power corrupts, yes, but extended time in power also makes leaders more authoritarian, overconfident, more prone to mistakes. When soft power depends on personal charisma, and charisma stops itself from becoming narcissism, all nations pay a price.
The solution? Nothing is easy. We cannot invent social media or change the lies of political celebrities. All we can do is understand the game being played. Ohnesorge’s book offers a brutal explanation: In the 21st century, who leads matters as they lead. Maybe more.
This puts democracy in the pros and cons. Democrats can elect benevolent leaders, but they can also elect Donald Trump. Autocracies can create charisma through propaganda, but artifice ultimately shows. The question is which system can produce leaders who understand that, in the age of celebrity, charm is more important than glitz, and that real charisma comes from real relationships rather than manufactured spectacle.
On this, Ohnesorge, drawing on Max Weber’s century-old insight into the power of charisma, offers a sobering reminder: Charisma is morally neutral. It can serve democracy or destroy it. It worked for Churchill and for Hitler. For Kennedy and for Mussolini.
For a long time, although, there is reason to hope that democracy will always prove more attractive. Gorbachev realized too late that his pro-Western attitude could not save the Soviet Union because there was nothing beneath that model. The real lesson is not that personality doesn’t matter. It is that personality without policy is just performance art. And in the long run, viewers can tell the difference.
The irony is that in trying to compete on charisma, the authorities have already accepted the argument. They have agreed that attraction trumps coercion, that being loved is more important than being feared. That’s a win for soft power. The question is whether democracy can produce leaders with enough charisma to win the competition they have already theoretically won.
In the 21st century personality wars, everyone is a fighter. May the truest victory.
