It happened to me in Amsterdam. In a small town in the Apennines. In my favorite gelato place, 100 feet from my apartment in Florence, Italy.

Someone figures out I’m an American, and they immediately ask, “What about Donald Trump?”

Well, what about him?

He’s a New Yorker, a reality TV star, the owner of the largest ego this side of Kanye West. He’s a demagogue and the front-runner to become the Republican Party’s presidential nominee. And his rise has horrified almost everyone I’ve met while spending a semester traversing Europe.

As much as Americans can self-flagellate about foreigners’ opinions of us, I’ve yet to encounter more than an isolated jerk or two who seemed to genuinely dislike me for my national origin.

Regardless of what Trump says, few Europeans see us as weak losers, and his election would only shatter the continent’s remaining confidence in the United States as a world leader — not restore it.

Surprisingly, most Europeans seem to look at America’s government as a source of stability. While rage at America’s two-party system is driving Trump’s — and Bernie Sanders’ — insurgencies, that same system also helps assure non-Americans that someone reasonable will be president of the United States.

Pick up The Economist or Der Spiegel to see how Europeans view America’s leadership much like the marble statues in the old country — stodgy, humdrum, but solid.

Outside of the States, quirkier voices can gain strength through the use of smaller elected districts, proportional representation and a focus on parliamentary politics over a chief executive.

From Jeremy Corbyn — the leader of the United Kingdom’s Labour Party — to Marine Le Pen — leader of France’s National Front — firebrand populists always have a home in European politics. They’ve even reached positions of power.

If Labour wins a majority at the next general election, Corbyn is prime minister, which means “God Save the Queen” may be replaced by “The Internationale” as the United Kingdom’s national anthem as the top tax rate jumps to 75 percent for the wealthy.

Meanwhile, La Pen’s party won 21 of 74 French seats at the European Parliament and 21 percent of the vote in the final round of regional elections in 2015. The fascist Golden Dawn party is in Greece’s Parliament, while Silvio Berlusconi — best described as a mashup of Trump, Rupert Murdoch and George W. Bush and best known for his “bunga bunga” sex parties — was Italy’s prime minister for eight of the past 15 years.

Point this out to Europeans and they will laugh at themselves. A Dutch bartender — and the Australian next to me — who I talked to in Amsterdam both brushed off the nationalistic groups brewing in their own countries.

“The problem is,” Stu, the Australian, said, “Trump can actually do something if he wins.”

Stu’s words host the strongest criticism of Trump and all his bombast about America’s weakness.

Foreigners don’t fear their own screwed-up government — but they sure fear one based in Washington, D.C. It’s a compliment to the power and prestige the rest of the world places on America’s shores — and the great responsibility American voters have when selecting their leader.

A buffoon ruled Italy for eight years, and while Italians suffered — unemployment sits at 11.5 percent, the lowest rate since 2013 — the world didn’t fall apart.

Stu decried former Prime Minister Tony Abbott in Australia as a xenophobic corporate stooge, but his leadership didn’t destabilize the Pacific.

And if the Netherlands did come under the sway of its nationalist party, Europe wouldn’t descend into chaos. Political outliers in these countries might make life more interesting, but they won’t ruin the global order.

But a President Trump could do just that.

If Trump pursues a trade war with China, economists both left and right fear it will lead to a global recession. A slowdown in U.S.-China trade would hurt shipping companies, which are overwhelmingly American, making all trade more expensive for everyone.

An aggressive Trump policy against Russia could also hurt Europe.

Besides a mutual border that has had troops roll across it twice in the last century, the European Union imports most of its energy from Russia — including nearly 40 percent of its natural gas and 33 percent of its crude oil. Any disruption of this supply would only further skyrocket European electricity and gas prices.

And if Trump’s actions against Muslims inflame radicals, Europe, not the United States, has the most to fear.

If Trump has his way, no refugees or Muslims will enter the United States. Besides adding more masses of humanity to Europe’s door, it’ll make it hard for any ISIS agent to enter the country for an attack.

So with Boston or Los Angeles so far away, terrorists might just settle for Berlin or Rome. This is not to play into any xenophobic fears, but simply stating a fact. The European Union is a lot closer to Syria than the United States.

What Trump doesn’t acknowledge is that his campaign — based on the widespread fear of America’s decline — is doing more to hurt our image to the rest of the world than any action of the past decade.

As the leader of NATO — the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, of which many European nations are members — America must be strong, or Europeans wouldn’t feel safe.

In a recent Pew Research Center study of citizens from eight different NATO member nations, 42 percent saw it as the United States’ duty, not their own country’s, to protect the alliance.

Only the United States and Canada had a majority agree with the use of military force to protect a fellow member no matter what.

In arguably the three strongest Continental powers — Germany, France and Italy — more than 50 percent thought otherwise. It seems even to Europeans, only America has the will — and the means — to keep Europe safe.

Europe’s problems overflowed to the world twice in the last two centuries, spawning unmatched bloodshed. As the world gets even smaller, America turning away again isn’t an option.

As Teddy Roosevelt said, “Speak softly and carry a big stick.” America’s stick is plenty big, and Trump doesn’t speak softly with it.

When Trump paints the United States as impotent, invalid and inconsequential on the world stage, however, he is playing to his core voters — older generations who grew up with the strength-based foreign policy of the Cold War.

With only 2 percent of Trump’s supporters under the age of 30, most will recall “Duck and Cover” drills and Ronald Reagan’s posturing about the good ol’ evil empire.

Even for some who appreciate a strong America, Trump is too much.

I met a Polish man in my travels to Monte Cassino, a World War II battlefield in the hills of southern Italy. At 48 percent, Poland had the highest rate in Europe of respondents in the Pew study who agreed with collective security. With Poland’s long history of confrontation with Russia and Germany, I expected my new acquaintance to love Trump’s hardball language.

“Normally, we in Poland love the Republican Party,” he said, “because they stand for a strong America in the world.”

I nodded solemnly.

“But, I don’t know if you can trust someone like Trump with deciding who bombs what,” he continued.

I responded with a smile, pleasantly surprised at his foresight.

However, there is in fact one person in Europe who seems to take Trump seriously as a world power broker.

“He is a very colorful and talented man, no doubt about that,” Vladimir Putin, Russia’s autocratic tyrant, said.

If you admire Putin’s leadership style, Trump is your candidate. Just don’t expect the rest of the world to be your friend.

Stephen Caruso is a senior columnist at The Pitt News. He mainly writes on economic and social issues. Email him at [email protected].