In many ways, Brits admire the US. But as America hits 250, they say one man defines it: Trump

“It’s Trump’s world now, isn’t it?” says Mark Keightley, a printer technician who serves the Cambridge area, about an hour north of London.

Over the past year, The Associated Press asked Britons — from George Washington’s ancestral home near Scotland to Cambridge, Bristol and London — a neutral question: “What do you think of America now?” Virtually every answer, even from those like Keightley who support some of the president’s policies, begins with a considered pause, followed by a crisp euphemism for Trump and the Trump era.

"Your president ..." "The current state of politics …" and "He …" with no ambiguity about who, are typical. And they suggest as much about the British perception of their former colony as the commentary that tends to come next. Is it possible to talk about America now without referencing Trump, they are asked? The unanimous answer, according to these interviews: No.

“My own opinion of America is now dictated by the president and he’s not covering himself in glory as far as I’m concerned,” said Eddie Boyle of Falkirk, Scotland, as he walked across Westminster Bridge in London last week. “It’s a shame that such a long arrangement between the two countries has been tarnished."

‘The Country disappoints me’

Being British and disappointed by the reality of the United States isn't a new phenomenon.

Charles Dickens wrote to a friend that he felt just that way during his 1842 visit to the new nation, where he was feted from Boston to New York and Washington — and reportedly earned a fortune from public readings of his work. But he was horrified by the ongoing practice of slavery, which Britain abolished in 1833. And the celebrated freedom of expression that Americans had enshrined in the First Amendment, he wrote, had gone awry with “a press more mean, and paltry, and silly, and disgraceful than any country I ever knew.”

Also, he wrote in a travelogue, Americans spit in public — a “filthy custom.”

“This is not the Republic I came to see. This is not the Republic of my imagination,” he wrote to William Charles Macready on March 22, 1842. “In every respect but that of National Education, the Country disappoints me.”

Over time, the history of the U.S.-U.K. relationship unfolded in such a way that no one event or president can define it.

Several inflection points inspired Britain to take America seriously as a permanent power and not a temporary, rebellious whim. Among them, the War of 1812 — a rematch of sorts between the two nations. It ended in a draw, but the conflict boosted the sense of American independence and established the United States as a sturdy trading and military force to be reckoned with.

The new country then survived its own Civil War. Then, before a century elapsed, the United States helped Britain fend off Nazi occupation and, with the rest of the Allied powers, defeated Germany during World War II. Four decades later, the storied friendship between President Ronald Reagan and Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher helped drive the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991.

“They did something great there,” Maria Miston of Suffolk, pausing recently near Big Ben, says of Thatcher and Reagan. “They actually managed to bring the Cold War to an end.” She notes that the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq in 2003 damaged the superpower's image around the world. And, she thinks, it hasn't gotten better. “We've just gone backwards since then.”

Trump rebrands the ‘special relationship’

During his second term, the American president first tolerated his fellow head of government, British Prime Minister Keir Starmer, but then dismissed him as “ not Winston Churchill ” over the premier’s refusal to involve the U.K. in the U.S. war against Iran.

Trump has suggested that he considers the king, not the prime minister, to be his peer. The president was deeply flattered by the king’s invitation for an unprecedented second state visit to England — and a dazzling royal dinner at Windsor Castle — last year as well as Charles’ recent visit to Washington. In the U.S., Charles said the four-century-long U.S.-British relationship is “more important today than it has ever been,” even as he laid in support for checks and balances — seen as an implicit criticism of Trump.

The White House posted on social media that the pair are “TWO KINGS,” — in part, perhaps, a clapback to the “No Kings” rallies that drew crowds across the U.S. during Charles’ visit. But the irony was not missed in the land of the Declaration of Independence, the U.S. Constitution, Thomas Paine’s “Common Sense,” and more founding-era documents that rejected the rule of Charles’ five-times great-grandfather, King George III, and government by monarchy generally.

Back home, where polls showed significant opposition to the king’s visit beforehand, Charles’ performance won raves as a show of soft power. That seemed all the more noteworthy given the obvious tension between the monarch and the president over climate issues, and Trump’s threat to make Canada the 51st state, where Charles is sovereign.

“May I say, well done in the Americas,” rock star Rod Stewart told Charles at a May 11 gala within earshot of reporters. “You were superb, absolutely superb, put that little rat bag in his place.”

Polls show Britons have soured on America. Only 28% of British adults approved of U.S. leadership in a Gallup poll conducted in the late summer and early fall of 2025, while 68% disapproved. That’s broadly in line with views of U.S. leadership during Trump’s first term, and lower than approval of U.S. leadership under Democratic President Joe Biden, when around 45% of U.K. adults approved of American leadership.

The Pew Research Center’s 2025 Global Attitudes Survey, conducted in the spring of that year, found that roughly half of U.K. adults had a favorable view of the U.S. British adults had a sunnier view of America in the first two years of Biden’s presidency, when about two-thirds had a favorable view of the U.S. That fell to 54% by the spring of 2024.

U.S.-U.K. relations have been strained in recent history, The Suez Canal crisis in 1956, for example, proved a stark reminder of Britain’s waning power and American ascendancy on the world stage. A decade later, Britain resisted pressure from the U.S. to join the Vietnam War.

Watching the American experiment under Trump

Throughout the years, watching America has become something of a spectator sport in Britain, if only to gauge how well — or poorly, or amusingly — the cousins across the Atlantic are doing democracy their way.

Nowadays, Brits readily acknowledge a long list of American qualities they admire alongside those that anger or mystify them. To the good: American ambition. The country's wealth. Its military might. Its vastness. Its television, music and movies. And its resilience despite racial tensions and the Jan. 6, 2021, insurrection at the U.S. Capitol.

In parallel runs the rest: America's gunviolence, which seems hard to fathom when viewed from Great Britain, where handguns were outlawed in 1997 after a school massacre. Immigration crackdowns in the U.S. seem puzzling to many Brits given that America was founded by immigrants. Though, like much of Europe, the U.K. has its own issues with people trying to enter the country illegally.

Topping the list of mysteries is Trump, the 47th president during the snapshot in time when the United States celebrates 250 years of independence. Talking about him is socially sensitive, Brits say, with Brexit still a raw tear through society and populist reform, led by some Trump supporters, on the rise in recent local elections.

“How can someone like that become president?” Mark Gibson asked over an ale recently at The Cross Keys pub in Washington, down the hill from the first president's ancestral home. He understands why Americans elected other men as their leaders, even if he didn't agree with them. But Trump? “I don't understand it. He's had bankruptcies and legal troubles."

"But,” Gibson adds, “I guess that's what people wanted. They elected him twice.”

Associated Press News Editor Amelia Thomson DeVeaux in Washington and video journalist Kwiyeon Ha in London contributed to this report.