The most jarring image to emerge from Donald Trump’s latest late-night Truth Social spree was not a conspiracy theory or a vulgar insult, but a series of AI-generated combat scenes depicting American jets raining fire on Iranian targets. Posted as the Middle East ceasefire remained fragile, these fictional naval and laser strike sequences – captioned “Bing, Bing, GONE!” – blurred the line between presidential bravado and dangerous provocation. Viewed from Washington, the timing could scarcely be worse: a commander-in-chief simulating attacks on a hostile state while real diplomacy hung by a thread.

That single post was part of a far broader deluge. Between late Monday evening and the early hours of Tuesday, Trump reshared more than fifty items from right-wing accounts, retreading false claims of a 2020 election coup, demanding the arrest of former officials including James Comey and John Brennan, and attacking Barack Obama, Joe Biden and Hillary Clinton as traitors. He also posted an AI-generated image of himself on the hundred-dollar bill, replacing “In God We Trust” with “God Bless Donald Trump”. Another mock-up showed him carved into Mount Rushmore. Analysts in London note that this relentless self-aggrandisement, combined with the targeting of political enemies, mirrors the behaviour of autocrats who seek to control the narrative through repetition and spectacle.

Yet there is a more subtle dynamic at work. The Atlantic has described Trump as a recipient of propaganda as much as its originator: the president absorbs and amplifies the conspiracies that bubble up from his online following, making him both puppet and puppeteer. His Truth Social feed becomes a feedback loop where fringe grievances are validated and then broadcast to millions. This pattern was evident in his fat-shaming of Illinois Governor JB Pritzker – an AI image showed an exaggeratedly obese Pritzker gorging on junk food – and in the repeated calls to jail opponents. The effect is to normalise extremes and to keep his base in a state of perpetual outrage.

From New Delhi, where observers track American political stability as a factor in global markets and security, the concern is less about the content than the rhythm. Trump’s prolific posting sprees – fifty-five posts in a single late-night session – have been dubbed the work of an “insomniac-in-chief”. Allies dismiss it as digital venting; critics see a distracted leader unable to disengage from a platform that rewards his worst instincts. As his administration navigates trade negotiations, a volatile Middle East, and domestic budget battles, the question resonating from London to Tokyo is whether the president’s nocturnal obsessions are a symptom of a deeper inability to prioritise – and what that means for the alliances that depend on American coherence. The images of fictional attacks on Iran may be unreal, but the destabilising effect of a president who cannot log off is already tangible.