Donald Trump’s first steps onto Malaysian soil immediately turned into a celebratory hand shuffle, much to the delight of the welcome party

Donald Trump dancing on the tarmac.Screen shot: cna/YouTube

This could not have been scripted: Donald Trump menari di Malaysia. Yes, he danced! No teleprompter to ignore. Mr Trump arrived this morning on Air Force One and emerged from the aircraft in his usual blue lumpy suit, and fist-waving. From a distance, he looked like he was knocking an imaginary door. After he descended the mobile stairway, he was received by prime minister Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim on the tarmac of KLIA. The U.S. president was introduced to the officials and dignitaries who had gathered in the punishing heat to greet him. And then, without warning, that dance! Utterly entranced by the rhythmic clapping that Sensurrounded him, Mr Trump started wobbling with the fluidity of a cement mixer, his body hunched, his hands clenched again, punching imaginary hantus of geopolitical foes.

Poor Mr Ibrahim—even he had to join in, his movement a careful, smiling concession to diplomatic necessity. But the biggest reaction came from the Malaysians: they called the dance of the year a “joget penumbuk” or the punch dance or boxer’s dance. From where we were, he looked very much like a tang ki ( 童乩, Hokkien for a ‘child diviner’ but is basically a shaman) in a stateman’s suit. It was one of those moments where secondhand embarrassment quickly kicked in, and hard. It’s a visceral cringe that is the hallmark of a spectacle that’s both absurd and unignorable. It fitted Mr Trump’s long-standing pattern of theatrics, unpredictability, and staying at the very center of attention. It was hard to make out what welcome performance Mr Trump had enjoyed with such gusto: against a military band playing the theme song of Hawaii Five-0, it was clapping, reminiscent of the dikir barat, but was not. It was just heartening to see that, even after at least 20 hours of flight time, Mr Trump’s kinetic joy was totally unretired.

Mr Trump’s tarmac dance in Kuala Lumpur felt like a parody of cultural diplomacy filtered through a reality TV lens. He dodged the usual diplomatic shimmy by performing an aggressively local jig. How can anyone argue with that much charm? It’s preemptive satire. He performs the local dance before anyone can accuse him of being culturally aloof. In going straight into a full-bodied joget, Donald Trump didn’t just participate, he commandeered the cultural moment. Mt Trump has no concern for the decorous, the seemly, the age-appropriate. He can do whatever he wants—always unencumbered by protocols. What was supposed to be solemn became slapstick. What was meant to be symbolic became viral. He cleverly disarmed not just the diplomats, but the audience, the critics, and the narrative itself. If diplomatic success is uncertain, dance harder.