Ivo Daalder, a former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is a senior fellow at Harvard
University’s Belfer Center and host of the weekly podcast “World Review with Ivo
Daalder.” He writes POLITICO’s From Across the Pond column
In justifying his military operation against Venezuela, U.S. President Donald
Trump reached back in time over two centuries and grabbed hold of the Monroe
Doctrine. But it’s another 19th-century interest that propelled his
extraordinary gambit in the first place — oil.
According to the New York Times, what started as an effort to press the
Venezuelan regime to cede power and end the flow of drugs and immigrants into
the U.S., began shifting into a determination to seize the country’s oil last
fall. And the president was the driving force behind this shift.
That’s hardly surprising though — Trump has been obsessed with oil for decades,
even as most of the world is actively trying to leave it behind.
As far back as the 1980s, Trump was complaining about the U.S. protecting Japan,
Saudi Arabia and others to secure the free flow of oil. “The world is laughing
at America’s politicians as we protect ships we don’t own, carrying oil we don’t
need, destined for allies who won’t help,” he wrote in a 1987 newspaper ad.
Having supported the Iraq War from the outset, he later complained that the U.S.
hadn’t sufficiently benefited from it. “I would take the oil,” he told the Wall
Street Journal in 2011. “I would not leave Iraq and let Iran take the oil.” That
same year, he also dismissed humanitarian concerns in Libya, saying: “I am only
interested in Libya if we take the oil.”
In justifying his military operation against Venezuela, U.S. President Donald
Trump reached back in time over two centuries and grabbed hold of the Monroe
Doctrine. | Henry Chirinos/EPA
Unsurprisingly, “take the oil” later became the mantra for Trump’s first
presidential campaign — and for his first term in office. Complaining that the
U.S. got “nothing” for all the money it spent invading Iraq: “It used to be, ‘To
the victor belong the spoils’ … I always said, ‘Take the oil,’” he griped during
a Commander in Chief Forum in 2016.
As president, he also insisted on keeping U.S. forces in Syria for that very
reason in 2019. “I like oil,” he said, “we’re keeping the oil.”
But while Iraq, Libya and even Syria were all conflicts initiated by Trump’s
predecessors, Venezuela is quite another matter.
Weeks before seizing Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, Trump made clear what
needed to happen: On Dec. 16, 2025, he announced an oil blockade of the country
“until such time as they return to the United States of America all of the Oil,
Land, and other Assets that they previously stole from us.”
Then, after capturing Maduro, Trump declared the U.S. would “run the country” in
order to get its oil. “We’re in the oil business,” he stated. “We’re going to
have our very large United States oil companies … go in, spend billions of
dollars, fix the badly broken infrastructure, and start making money.”
“We’re going to be taking out a tremendous amount of wealth out of the ground,”
Trump insisted. “It goes also to the United States of America in the form of
reimbursement for the damages caused us by that country.”
On Wednesday, Energy Secretary Chris Wright announced that Venezuela would ship
its oil to the U.S. “and then infinitely, going forward, we will sell the
production that comes out of Venezuela into the marketplace,” effectively
declaring the expropriation of Venezuela’s most important national resources.
All of this reeks of 19th-century imperialism. But the problem with Trump’s oil
obsession goes deeper than his urge to steal it from others — by force if
necessary. He is fixated on a depleting resource of steadily declining
importance.
And yet, this doesn’t seem to matter.
Throughout his reelection campaign, Trump still emphasized the need to produce
more oil. “Drill, baby, drill” became as central to his energy policy as “take
the oil” was to his views on military intervention. He called on oil executives
to raise $1 billion for his campaign, promising his administration would be “a
great deal” for their industry. And he talked incessantly of the large
reservoirs of “liquid gold” in the U.S., claiming: “We’re going to make a
fortune.”
But these weren’t just campaign promises. Upon his return to office, Trump
unleashed the full force of the U.S. government to boost oil production at home
and exports abroad. He established a National Energy Dominance Council, opened
protected lands in Alaska and the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge for oil and
gas exploration, signed a mandate for immediate offshore oil and gas leases into
law, and accelerated permitting reforms to speed up pipeline construction,
refinery expansion and liquid natural gas exports.
At the same time, he’s been castigating efforts to cut greenhouse gas emissions
as part of a climate change “hoax,” he withdrew the U.S. from the Paris Climate
Agreement once again, and he took a series of steps to end the long-term
transition from fossil fuels to renewable energy. He signed a law ending credits
and subsidies to encourage residential solar and electric vehicle purchases,
invoked national security to halt offshore wind production and terminated grants
encouraging renewable energy production.
Then, after capturing Nicolás Maduro, Trump declared the U.S. would “run the
country” in order to get its oil. | Henry Chirinos/EPA
The problem with all these efforts is that the U.S. is now banking on fossil
fuels, precisely as their global future is waning. Today, oil production is
already outpacing consumption, and global demand is expected to peak later this
decade. Over the last 12 months, the cost of oil has decreased by over 23
percent, pricing further exploration and production increasingly out of the
market.
Meanwhile, renewable energy is becoming vastly more cost-effective. The future,
increasingly, lies in renewables to drive our cars; heat, cool and light up our
homes; power our data centers, advanced manufacturing factories and everything
else that sustains our lives on Earth.
By harnessing the power of the sun, the force of wind and the heat of the Earth,
China is building its future on inexhaustible resources. And while Beijing is
leading the way, many others are following in its footsteps. All this, just as
the U.S. goes back to relying on an exhaustive fossil fuel supply.
What Trump is betting on is becoming the world’s largest — and last —
petrostate. China is betting on becoming its largest and lasting electrostate.
Which side would you rather be on?
Tag - From Across the Pond
Ivo Daalder, a former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is a senior fellow at Harvard
University’s Belfer Center and host of the weekly podcast “World Review with Ivo
Daalder.” He writes POLITICO’s From Across the Pond column.
Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.
Since U.S. President Donald Trump’s return to the White House, Europe has
slowly but steadily moved through the five stages of grief, taking an entire
year to finally reach acceptance over the loss of the transatlantic
relationship.
Now, the question for 2026 is whether the bloc has the will and strength to turn
this acceptance into real action.
Trump’s reelection and inauguration represented the end of Pax America — a
period of over 75 years where the U.S. was the undisputed Leader of the Free
World, and successive presidents and administrations in Washington placed
relations with Europe at the core of America’s global engagement.
It was clear Trump would end this era and instead adopt a narrow, regionally
focused policy of “America First.” And yet, few in Europe believed this would
truly be the case.
At a lunch attended by some dozen NATO ambassadors in mid-December 2024, one
envoy after another declared that with a little more European spending on
defense, everything would be okay. When I suggested they were in denial about
how fundamental the change would be, one of them turned to me and said: “You
can’t seriously believe that the United States will no longer see its security
as tied to Europe’s, do you?”
But not long after, Europe’s refusal to accept the fundamental transformation
that Trump’s reelection entailed was put to the test by a series of events in
February.
At his first NATO meeting, new Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth told his
colleagues that Europe needed to “take ownership of conventional security on the
continent.”
Next, Trump and Russian President Vladimir Putin agreed that the U.S. and Russia
would negotiate an end to the war in Ukraine — without Ukraine’s or Europe’s
involvement. And then came Vice President JD Vance’s speech at the Munich
Security Conference, where he said that the biggest threat to Europe wasn’t
Russia or China but “the threat from within, the retreat of Europe from some of
its most fundamental values.”
Finally, at the end of the month, Trump and Vance confronted Ukrainian President
Volodymyr Zelenskyy in the Oval Office, on live television. “You don’t have the
cards,” Trump exclaimed, berating Ukraine for failing to end a war it had not
started, and ignoring how Ukrainians had valiantly held off their subjugation
and occupation by a much larger foe for more than three years.
So, by February’s end, Europe’s denial turned to anger.
When I met with a foreign minister of a major ally just days after Munich, the
longtime supporter of the U.S. appeared despondent. “You stabbed us in the back.
You’re leaving us to deal with Russia alone,” he shouted.
But the anger lasted only so long, and in the next few months, the bloc shifted
to bargaining. Key European leaders convinced Zelenskyy to forget about the Oval
Office showdown and tell Trump he was fully committed to peace. Europe would
then join Ukraine in supporting an unconditional ceasefire — as Trump had
demanded.
In August, stage three — bargaining — quickly gave way to stage four —
depression. | Tom Brenner for The Washington Post via Getty Images
Similarly, in April, when Trump announced his “Liberation Day” tariffs, hitting
allied countries just as hard as non-allies, the U.K. and the EU moved swiftly
to negotiate deals that would lower rates from the initial levels of 25 percent
or more.
By June, NATO leaders had even agreed to raise defense spending to the 5-percent
of GDP mark Trump had insisted on.
Europe’s negotiating on Ukraine, trade and defense gave Trump the victories he
long craved. But it soon became clear that however great the victories or
however fawning the flattery, the U.S. president would just pocket them and move
on, with little regard for the transatlantic relationship.
Trump was already back to negotiating Ukraine’s fate directly with Putin by
August — in a red-carpeted summit in Alaska, no less. And though he had flown to
the meeting promising “severe consequences” if the Russian leader didn’t agree
to a ceasefire, he left having adopted Putin’s position that the war could only
end if there was a fully agreed-upon peace agreement.
Days later, no less than eight European leaders flew to Washington to try and
persuade Trump to change course and push Russia to accept the ceasefire he had
long proposed. And while it sort of worked, most of the leaders still left
Washington deeply depressed. No matter what, when it came to Ukraine, an issue
they deem existential for their security, Trump just wasn’t on the same page.
Eventually, it was the publication of the new U.S. National Security Strategy in
early December that proved too much — even for Europe’s most stalwart
Atlanticists. The strategy not only berates the continent for supposedly causing
its own rendezvous with “civilizational erasure,” it also clearly underscores
that both Trump and his administration view Russia very differently than Europe.
Gone is any mention of Moscow as a military threat. Instead, the U.S. is seeking
a return to “strategic stability” with Russia, even offering itself up as a
mediator between Russia and Europe on security.
An ally just doesn’t say these things or behave in this way.
So, after a long year, Europe has now come to accept the reality that the
transatlantic relationship they have long known and depended on is no more. “The
decades of Pax Americana are largely over for us in Europe, and for us in
Germany as well,” said German Chancellor Friedrich Merz earlier this month. “The
Americans are now very, very aggressively pursuing their own interests. And that
can only mean one thing: that we, too, must now pursue our own interests.”
What remains to be seen is whether Europe will do so. On that, the jury is still
very much out.
Ivo Daalder, a former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is a senior fellow at Harvard
University’s Belfer Center and host of the weekly podcast “World Review with Ivo
Daalder.” He writes POLITICO’s From Across the Pond column.
If you’ve had a hard time following the latest U.S. efforts to negotiate an end
to the war in Ukraine, you’re hardly alone. It’s been a dizzying few months,
with meetings in Moscow, Anchorage, New York, Washington, Miami, Kyiv and
Geneva, and countless more informal calls between a large list of players.
One reason for this rollercoaster is that U.S. President Donald Trump has set
his camp a nearly impossible task: ending a war between two countries that are
both determined to continue their fight for polar opposite goals: In Russia’s
case, Ukraine’s subjugation; in Ukraine’s case, securing its sovereignty and
independence.
But there’s another reason for the chaotic scenes we’ve witnessed over the past
few months — of summits announced then called off, deadlines declared then
abandoned, plans set in stone then amended, all with an ever-rotating cast of
characters leading negotiations — and that’s because the Trump administration
lacks a formal process to develop policy, provide guidance, interact with
foreign governments and set a clear direction.
This absence of formal process is a unique feature — or bug — of this
presidency. Of course, Trump is hardly the first U.S. leader to rely on a small
coterie of aides to discuss critical foreign policy issues. Former President
George H.W. Bush ran the Gulf War with seven top officials, while Trump’s
predecessor Joe Biden made many national security decisions during his
presidential daily intelligence brief, which was attended by just a few top
aides.
What’s different here is that top aides in other administrations relied on an
interagency process led by their staff to discuss issues, develop policy options
and oversee implementation. Trump, meanwhile, runs the U.S. government like he
ran his family business — from behind his desk in the Oval Office, where he
meets with everyone, calls anyone and then decides policy on a whim. And his
aides operate almost entirely on their own.
When it comes to Ukraine and Russia, there are literally only a handful of
individuals within the president’s circle: Vice President JD Vance, Secretary of
State and National Security Advisor Marco Rubio, Chief of Staff Susie Wiles,
Presidential Peace Envoy Steve Witkoff and, since October, Trump’s son-in-law
Jared Kushner. Not included as a matter of course are the defense secretary, the
chairman of the joint chiefs of staff, or the heads of the CIA and national
intelligence.
Of these key players, only Rubio has a substantial staff at the State Department
and National Security Council, but even then, there’s very little evidence to
suggest he relies on them in the ways his predecessors did. Whatever interagency
discussions are happening, their influence on policy development at the highest
levels is scant — if it exists at all. And according to foreign interlocutors,
including diplomats in Washington, officials in both departments are
approachable yet largely in the dark about what is happening.
Even more problematic is the fact that, besides Rubio, the other main players on
the Ukraine file operate without staff or process.
Witkoff, for example, attends meetings with Russian President Vladimir Putin and
other Russian officials without a notetaker, and he’s been known to rely on
Putin’s own interpreter. Kushner is deeply involved in talks but has no formal
position in the administration. And Army Secretary Daniel Driscoll, who was
drawn into discussions with Ukraine on very short notice last month, was only
given a weekend to get up to speed on the war, its history and the negotiations
before being sent off to Kyiv to present the latest plan.
This absence of process also goes a long way toward explaining the extremely
chaotic nature of the talks over the past few weeks and how everything all
unfolded.
Initially, in mid-October, Russia’s Minister of Foreign Affairs Sergey Lavrov
sent Rubio a memorandum setting forth ideas on how to end the war. The plan was
that Putin and Trump might agree on these points during their meeting in
Budapest, which was planned for the end of the month.
Even more problematic is the fact that, besides Rubio, the other main players on
the Ukraine file operate without staff or process. | Chip Somodevilla/Getty
Images
The memo contained all the usual Russian demands: territorial concessions,
severe limits on Ukraine’s armed forces, and no NATO troops in or membership for
Ukraine. But when Rubio called Lavrov to discuss it, he found that Moscow’s
position was set in stone and advised Trump not to go to Budapest. The U.S.
president subsequently called off the talks, saying he didn’t want “a wasted
meeting.”
However, while Rubio and Trump were pivoting to increase pressure on Russia —
including the announcement of the first new sanctions since Trump’s return to
office — Witkoff was engaging other Russian interlocutors to get talks back on
track. In a call with Yuri Ushakov, Putin’s top foreign policy advisor, Witkoff
reportedly claimed: “The president will give me a lot of space and discretion to
get to the deal.”
Then, two weeks later, Witkoff and Kushner were sitting down in Miami with
Kirill Dmitriev, another close Putin envoy, looking to sketch out a 20+ point
plan to end the war, just as they had done for Gaza weeks earlier. Except unlike
Rubio mere days before, Witkoff and Kushner largely accepted Russia’s position
and made it their own. As Dmitriev told Ushakov after the meeting, as reported
in another leaked transcript, he had passed along an informal paper as the basis
for a final plan to make sure it was “as close to [Russia’s] as possible.”
When Rubio was first presented with this 28-point plan drawn up by Witkoff and
Kushner, he called it merely “a list of potential ideas,” reportedly telling
U.S. senators that “it is not our recommendation [or] peace plan.” Trump,
however, liked it and told Ukraine to sign on by Thanksgiving or be on their
own. This then led Rubio to quickly reverse course and declare “the peace
proposal was authored by the U.S.”
Ultimately, what drives all these U.S. players isn’t a formal process or even a
coherent assessment of what it will actually take to end the war in Ukraine.
Rather, it is an unrelenting effort to satisfy Trump’s insistent demand to be
recognized as the world’s peacemaker.
As long as this continues, so will the chaos and confusion. And none of this
will bring an actual end to the war any closer to reality.
Ivo Daalder, a former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is a senior fellow at Harvard
University’s Belfer Center and host of the weekly podcast “World Review with Ivo
Daalder.” He writes POLITICO’s From Across the Pond column.
Three hundred days into U.S. President Donald Trump’s second term, how is the
world faring?
According to the president and his supporters, the answer is clear: never better
— at least as far as the U.S. is concerned.
This isn’t a judgement I personally share, but let’s take a closer look at the
case that Trump and his defenders are making for the success of his foreign
policy to date — and whether it tells the whole story.
By forcing Europe and other allies to pay more for defense, to take on a bigger
share of the burden of helping Ukraine, and to buy more weapons from the U.S.,
Trump has boosted the collective strength of America and its allies to
unprecedented heights. Or so the argument goes.
This year, the U.S. increased defense spending by about 13 percent to reach $1
trillion. And its NATO allies — perennial spending laggards — have now committed
to spending 5 percent of their GDP on defense. That’s a bigger share than the
U.S. will spend.
Building on this growing strength, according to Robert O’Brien, Trump’s
first-term national security adviser, the U.S. president has “positioned himself
as the indispensable global statesman by driving efforts to bring peace to
other, often far-flung and long-standing disputes.”
Trump himself frequently touts this peacemaking prowess, boasting that he has
“ended 8 wars in 8 months.” And to be fair, in some of these cases he did teach
a masterclass in using leverage to get what he wants.
Nowhere was this more evident than in the Middle East, where, as one seasoned
diplomat told me: “No one can say no to him.” The result was the ceasefire in
Gaza, the return of all living hostages to Israel, and an end to Israel’s
longest, most devastating war.
Finally, both Trump and his officials argue, he has remade the global trading
order to the benefit of the U.S. He has used tariffs and threats to force open
markets long closed to American goods, to reap revenues by charging for the
privilege of access to the world’s greatest consumer market, and to strong-arm
other countries into paying for America’s reindustrialization.
Taken at face value, all of this adds up to quite a record — but an incomplete
one, to say the least. Looking at the specifics, the picture becomes much more
complicated, uneven and often quite different.
Take alliances, for example. It’s true, of course, that many NATO allies have
now committed to spending much more on defense. It’s even true that Trump “will
achieve something NO American president in decades could get done” — as NATO
Secretary-General Mark Rutte texted Trump shortly before the NATO summit last
June where that commitment was agreed.
Many NATO allies have now committed to spending much more on defense. | Andrew
Caballero-Reynolds/AFP via Getty Images
But what Rutte didn’t say is that this is because no other U.S. president has
ever threatened to walk away from the alliance, or to abandon the solemn
commitment to collective defense enshrined in Article 5 of the NATO charter. Led
by Germany, NATO allies are boosting their defense spending, but the main reason
is because they no longer believe they can rely on the U.S. ( Another one is
that they fear Russia — an anxiety Trump doesn’t share.)
Trump’s approach to Ukraine clearly underscores this change. He ended all
military and economic assistance to the country, forcing it into an agreement to
share its natural resources in return for U.S. aid that was previously provided
cost-free. He then sought to force Ukraine’s president to sign a deal that would
effectively mean Kyiv’s capitulation to Russian aggression, and only agreed to
ship weapons if Europe paid for them.
None of this is the behavior of an ally who believes their mutual alliance
reflects shared interests or common threat perceptions. It’s the behavior of
someone who has turned security alliances into a protection racket.
As for Trump’s self-declared peacemaking prowess, there’s much less than meets
the eye.
Yes, the U.S. president skillfully maneuvered Israel and Hamas into a ceasefire
and the return of hostages — but this is hardly the lasting peace he proclaimed.
The divide between Israelis and Palestinians is deeper now than at any time in
recent history, and the prospect of renewed violence is vastly greater than any
enduring peace.
Many of the other conflicts Trump claims to have ended suffer from similar
shortcomings. India and Pakistan are one incident away from a return to
cross-border fighting. Cambodia and Thailand suspended their agreement less than
30 days after Trump presided over its signing. And neither Rwanda nor the Congo
are implementing the terms of the agreement they initialed in Washington earlier
this year.
Peace, it turns out, is not the same as stopping the shooting.
As for trade, Trump has indeed upended the global system. But to what end? The
escalating tariff war with China has settled into an uncomfortable truce akin to
the situation that existed when he first returned to office.
Meanwhile, many big agreements — including with the EU — have yet to be
finalized, as Trump has always been more interested in declaring a win than in
negotiating the details. In fact, it’s highly uncertain whether Europe, Japan or
Korea will actually make the kinds of new investments Trump has touted.
And just last week, Trump abandoned tariffs on hundreds of food and other items
in order to address a growing domestic political backlash stemming from rising
prices on groceries and other basics.
Overall, Trump has been much more skillful at wrecking things than building
them. He has destroyed a global order that was painstakingly built by his
predecessors over many decades; an order that produced more prosperity, greater
security and broader freedom for Americans than at any time in history.
To be sure, the system had its flaws and needed reform. But to abandon it
without considering what will take its place is the height of folly. Folly for
which Americans, no less than others, will pay the ultimate price.
Ivo Daalder, former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is a senior fellow at Harvard
University’s Belfer Center and host of the weekly podcast “World Review with Ivo
Daalder.” He writes POLITICO’s From Across the Pond column.
U.S. President Donald Trump loves the 19th century.
His heroes are former presidents William McKinley who “made our country very
rich through tariffs,” Teddy Roosevelt who “did many great things” like the
Panama Canal, and James Monroe who established the policy rejecting “the
interference of foreign nations in this hemisphere and in our own affairs.”
These aren’t just some throw-away lines from Trump’s speeches. They signify a
much deeper and broader break from established modern national security
thinking.
Trump is now the first U.S. president since Franklin D. Roosevelt to believe the
principal threats to the U.S. aren’t in far-away regions or stem from far-away
powers — rather, they’re right here at home. For him, the biggest threats to
America today are the immigrants flooding across the country’s borders and the
drugs killing tens of thousands from overdoses.
And to that end, his real goal is to dominate the entire Western hemisphere —
from the North Pole to the South Pole — using America’s superior military and
economic power to defeat all “enemies,” both foreign and domestic.
Of course, at the top of Trump’s list of threats to the U.S. is immigration. He
campaigned incessantly on the idea that his predecessors had failed to seal the
southern border, and promised to deport every immigrant without legal status —
some 11 million in all — from the U.S.
Those efforts started on the first day, with the Trump administration deploying
troops to the southern border to interdict anyone seeking to cross illegally. It
also instituted a dragnet to sweep people off the streets — whether in churches,
near schools, on farmlands, inside factories, at court houses or in hospitals.
Even U.S. citizens have been caught up in this massive deportation effort. No
one is safe.
The resulting shift is also expectedly dramatic: Refugee admissions have halted,
with those promised passage stuck in third countries. In the coming year, the
only allotment for refugees will be white South Africans, who Trump has depicted
as genocide victims. Illegal crossings are down to a trickle, while large
numbers of immigrants — legal as well as illegal — are returning home.
And 2025 will likely be the first time in nearly a century where net migration
into the U.S. will be negative.
For Trump, immigrants aren’t the only threat to the homeland, though. Drugs are
too.
That’s why on Feb. 1, the U.S. leader imposed tariffs on Canada, Mexico and
China because of fentanyl shipments — though Canada is hardly a significant
source of the deadly narcotic. Still, all these tariffs remain in place.
Then, in August, he called in the military, signing a directive that authorizes
it to take on drug cartels, which he designated as foreign terrorist
organizations. “Latin America’s got a lot of cartels and they’ve got a lot of
drugs flowing,” he later explained. “So, you know, we want to protect our
country. We have to protect our country.”
And that was just the beginning. Over the past two months, the Pentagon has
deployed a massive array of naval and air power, and some 10,000 troops for drug
interdiction. Over the past five weeks, the U.S. military has also been directed
to attack small vessels crossing the Caribbean and the Pacific that were
suspected to be running drugs. To date, 16 vessels have been attacked, killing
over 60 people.
For Donal Trump, immigrants aren’t the only threat to the homeland, though.
Drugs are too. | oe Raedle/Getty Images
When asked for the legal justification of targeting vessels in international
waters that posed no imminent threat to the U.S., Trump dismissed the need: “I
think we’re just going to kill people that are bringing drugs into our country.
Okay? We’re going to kill them. You know, they’re going to be, like, dead.”
But now the U.S. leader has set his sights on bigger fish.
Late last month, the Pentagon ordered a carrier battle group, Gerald R. Ford,
into the Caribbean. Once that carrier and its accompanying ships arrive at their
destination later this week, the U.S. will have deployed one-seventh of its Navy
— the largest such deployment in the region since the Cuban Missile Crisis in
1962.
If the target is just drug-runners in open waters, clearly this is overkill —
but they aren’t. The real reason for deploying such overwhelming firepower is
for Trump to intimidate the leaders and regimes he doesn’t like, if not actually
force them from office. Drugs are just the excuse to enable such action.
The most obvious target is Venezuela’s Nicolás Maduro, who blatantly stole an
election to retain power last year. The White House has declared Maduro “an
illegitimate leader heading an illegitimate regime,” and Trump has made clear
that “there will be land action in Venezuela soon.”
However, Maduro isn’t the only one Trump has his eye on. After Colombian
President Gustavo Petro accused the U.S. of killing innocent fishermen, Trump
cut off all aid to the country and accused Petro of being “an illegal drug
leader,” which potentially sets the stage for the U.S. to go after another
regime.
All this firepower and rhetoric is meant to underscore one point: To Trump, the
entire Western hemisphere is America’s.
Leaders he doesn’t like, he will remove from power. Countries that take action
he doesn’t approve of — whether jailing those convicted of trying to overthrow a
government like in Brazil, or running ads against his tariffs as in Canada —
will be punished economically. Greenland will be part of the U.S., as will the
Panama Canal, and Canada will become the 51st state.
Overall, Trump’s focus on dominating the Western hemisphere represents a
profound shift from nearly a century’s-long focus on warding off overseas
threats to protect Americans at home. And like it or not, for Trump, security in
the second quarter of the 21st century lies in concepts and ideas first
developed in the last quarter of the 19th century.
Ivo Daalder, former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is a senior fellow at Harvard
University’s Belfer Center and host of the weekly podcast “World Review with Ivo
Daalder.” He writes POLITICO’s From Across the Pond column.
When U.S. President Donald Trump first met with then-German Chancellor Angela
Merkel after his first term began, he told her that Germany’s lack of defense
spending was a problem. It meant the U.S. had to spend too much. “Angela, you
owe me $1 trillion,” he said.
In the end, Germany never paid a penny. But this exchange set the tone for how
Trump would approach the presidency in his second term.
Whether a person, business, university, law firm, media company or country —
Trump has used the power of the presidency to exact a price, often in dollar
terms, from whoever he interacts with. It’s the unifying theme of his leadership
and his approach to the world.
Donald Trump is the “Shakedown President.”
It started even before he won reelection. At a dinner in Mar-a-Lago with some 20
top oil executives in April 2024, Trump told attendees to raise $1 billion for
his reelection campaign, which, he promised, would be a great “deal” because
he’d cut red tape and lower their taxes on “Day One” of his presidency — and
that was just the beginning.
Since returning to the White House, Trump has turned the Oval Office into the
pay-to-play room: It’s where he met the managing head of venerable New York
litigation firm Paul, Weiss and twisted arms to get $40 million in annual pro
bono work for causes he deems worthwhile. In return, he rescinded an executive
order he’d signed, barring the firm from federal contracts and its employees
from holding security clearances.
Seeing the writing on the wall, eight other white-shoe law firms then followed
in Paul, Weiss’s footsteps, signing deals with the administration that
collectively promised more than $1 billion in pro bono services for Trump’s
priorities.
Smelling victory, the president soon set his sights on other industries,
starting with big media: He sued ABC and CBS News when they broadcast interviews
he didn’t like and got them to pay $15 million and $16 million, respectively.
The president reached multimillion dollar settlements with tech companies Meta
and X. And while his multi-billion-dollar suit against the New York Times was
thrown out, the Wall Street Journal’s is still pending.
Tasos Katopodis/Getty Images
Aside from the steep monetary value, these shakedowns have also made media
companies more adverse to reporting criticism of the president and his
administration’s actions.
Next came universities: Long the foundation of America’s scientific and
technological supremacy, Trump cut off federal research funding for major
universities in order to force them to adopt policies favored by his
administration. Some institutions, like Columbia University, Brown University
and the University of Pennsylvania, obliged, agreeing to pay eight-to-nine
figure “fines.” Others, like Harvard University, resisted and have been
financially squeezed, seeing their critical scientific research grants
cancelled.
Corporations haven’t escaped Trump’s crosshairs either, despite much of
corporate America backing Trump in the latest election. He approved Nippon
Steel’s takeover of U.S. Steel, but only after demanding a “Golden Share” in the
company, which grants his administration extraordinary control and veto
authority over operations and decisions. He also turned a government subsidy to
Intel into a 10 percent stake in the company — with the option for another 5
percent down the road — and approved chip sales to China by Nvidia and AMD in
return for a 15 percent levy on all sales.
Then, there are America’s trading partners, which are, notably, some of its
closest allies. Here, Trump brokered remarkably similar and extraordinarily
one-sided deals with the EU, Japan and South Korea, after threatening to impose
tariffs of 25 percent or more on all imports from America’s largest trading
partners in the Europe and Asia. He finally “compromised” at a 15 percent levy
that was still six times higher than before and, of course, his victory has left
the U.S. public as the real losers, facing higher prices on a wide variety of
goods.
But that wasn’t all. Trump also exacted commitments from these governments to
make large-scale investments in the U.S. — $350 billion by South Korea, $550
billion by Japan and up to $600 billion by European companies. Europe also
agreed to purchase $750 billion in gas and other energy products over four
years. And here’s the kicker: In most cases, Trump will control where the
investment goes, and the U.S. will receive most of the profits — up to 90
percent in the case of Japanese investments.
In the short term, the Shakedown Presidency works. Individuals, law firms, media
companies, universities and even countries calculate they’re better off paying a
little than fighting a lot. And once one of them does, others follow. Pretty
soon, it’s a billion here, a few hundred billion there, and it all adds up to
real money.
But — and this is crucial — in the long term, this is bound to fail.
These shakedowns create massive resentment among those who bear the
consequences. Clients, partners and associates search out other firms to bring
their business to; readers, listeners and viewers tune out media companies they
can no longer trust; and countries begin to shift to markets and partners that
won’t use their interconnectedness to serve the narrow, selfish ends of one man
and his administration.
So far, Trump has been able to shake down a good many individuals, succeeding as
he picks off firms and countries one by one. But soon, everyone will get wiser
and realize they have alternatives — and that when they unite, Trump will be
unable to continue his shake down operations.
Ivo Daalder, former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is a senior fellow at Harvard
University’s Belfer Center and host of the weekly podcast “World Review with Ivo
Daalder.” He writes POLITICO’s From Across the Pond column.
Russia is at war with Europe. It has been waging an overt war in Ukraine for
over a decade now, and with increasing ferocity since its full-scale invasion in
2022. But the fighting in Ukraine is only part of Russia’s wider war against
Europe as a whole.
This month’s drone incursions on Poland and Romania and flying into Estonian
airspace underscore Moscow’s broader intent: dividing Europe and the U.S.,
weakening public support for strong military action and ending the continent’s
support for Ukraine.
But until now, Europe hadn’t taken this threat seriously. It preferred to view
Russia’s escalating operations — the assassinations, cyberattacks, sabotage of
critical infrastructure, disinformation campaigns and more — as falling into a
gray zone below the level of armed conflict. And its chosen response was to
improve resilience while, at times publicly, condemning Russia for its actions.
Essentially, Europe imposed no cost on Moscow for its covert agitation against
the continent — and that’s a mistake.
This failure is behind the significant escalation in the Kremlin’s attacks on
Europe over the past three years. As a new report by the International Institute
for Strategic Studies (IISS) underscores, the number of such attacks grew while
the full-scale war got underway, and the reason is clear: Russia was stymied by
Ukraine’s stubborn defense on the battlefield and the support it has received
from Europe and the U.S.
“Russia simply does not have the wherewithal to fully subjugate Ukraine by
force,” Britain’s MI6 chief Richard Moore noted the other day. “Yes, they are
winding forward on the battlefield, but at a snail’s pace and horrendous cost,
and Putin’s army is still far short of its original invasion objectives,” he
added. “Bluntly, Putin has bitten off more than he can chew.”
The only way Moscow can now achieve its objectives is by weakening Europe’s
support for Ukraine and exploiting divisions within and among NATO nations. This
is what its covert war against Europe aims to do.
The IISS report details just how many of Russia’s attacks on European
infrastructure consist of facilities linked to the war in Ukraine. As the
country’s military faltered in 2023, the number of attacks on Europe nearly
quadrupled, and they increasingly targeted “bases, production facilities and
those facilities involved in transporting military aid to Ukraine.”
Then, in the first half of this year, the attacks declined significantly, likely
reflecting Moscow’s assessment that U.S. President Donald Trump’s return to
office would weaken support for Ukraine. And, indeed, it did — Washington ended
its military and economic assistance to Ukraine and sought a diplomatic
conclusion to the war that accepts many of Moscow’s conditions.
But even as the U.S. shifted course, Europe’s commitment to Ukraine has remained
steadfast — and even increased: Key European countries are now seriously
discussing the deployment of a significant security force in Ukraine once
fighting ends; European governments, led by Germany, are sending large amounts
of weapons to Ukraine — including some bought from the U.S.; financial support
for the country’s economy and rapidly expanding defense industry is growing;
additional sanctions are in the offing; and the EU is seriously considering
seizing Russia’s frozen assets.
Faced with such staunch commitment, Putin is now pushing even harder.
It’s probably no accident this all started after the Russian leader’s Alaska
meeting with Trump, where he assessed the U.S. was unlikely to resist further
escalation from Moscow. And clearly, escalation there has been: Since that
meeting, Russia’s bombing of Ukraine has intensified— including the largest
drone and missile attack of the war, which came in early September. And even as
his military efforts inside Ukraine grew increasingly brazen, Putin decided to
test Europe and NATO.
Another action is to make clear that any further Russian incursion into European
airspace, territory or maritime domain will lead to military action designed to
destroy or disable the violating system in question. | Federico
Gambarini/Picture Alliance via Getty Images
First, Russia sent 19 drones across the Polish border on Sept. 10, followed by
another drone crossing the Romanian border a few days later. Then, last week,
three Russian MiG-31 warplanes crossed into Estonian airspace and loitered for
12 minutes (Though used as an interceptor, the MiG-31 is capable of carrying and
launching the Kinzhal hypersonic missile that Russia has repeatedly used against
Ukraine).
In all three instances, European forces met the military test of effectively
neutralizing the threat, including shooting down some of the drones headed
toward an air base in Poland. But NATO countries failed the political test.
The U.S. response to the repeated violations has been notably tepid, with Trump
and other officials suggesting the drone attack on Poland might have been a
mistake. The president also made clear that he’s “not gonna defend anybody.”
NATO, for its part, convened twice for Article 4 consultations — first at the
behest of Poland and then Estonia. It also announced a beefed-up military
presence along the Eastern flank. But still, Putin has paid no price — and until
he does, Russia will continue escalating, aiming to weaken European support for
Ukraine and divide the alliance.
What, then, could and should Europe do?
One idea, supported by Polish Foreign Minister Radosław Sikorski, is to extend
NATO’s defenses by intercepting drones and missiles over Ukrainian territory.
This could be done with European fighters and air defense systems operating from
European airspace or territory, or over the skies of Ukraine. It would be a
defensive measure that directly contributes to Ukraine’s defense as well.
Another action is to make clear that any further Russian incursion into European
airspace, territory or maritime domain will lead to military action designed to
destroy or disable the violating system in question. This, too, would constitute
a defensive measure — one that would reduce the likelihood of Russia continuing
to breach European territory.
Finally, Europe should provide Ukraine with the capacity to strike critical
logistical nodes and war-supporting facilities in Russia. Kyiv has produced
long-range drones and is now finalizing the development of ballistic missiles
that have already struck Russian energy and other facilities. The continent
could help in that effort with more sophisticated weapons and support.
Europe is at war with Russia, whether it likes it or not. It’s high time to
recognize this reality and act accordingly.
Ivo Daalder, former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is a senior fellow at Harvard
University’s Belfer Center and host of the weekly podcast “World Review with Ivo
Daalder.” He writes POLITICO’s From Across the Pond column.
When I traveled to India last February, I found a nation enthralled by America
and its newly reelected president. It was a point of national pride that Prime
Minister Narendra Modi was the first foreign leader President Donald Trump
welcomed to the Oval Office after his inauguration. And in contrast to opinion
in Europe and elsewhere, polls showed a majority of Indians had confidence in
Trump doing the right thing.
While traveling around the country, I met young people who yearned for the
opportunity to study at American universities and build a better future for
themselves and their families. Business leaders were on the cusp of expanding
exports to the world’s largest consumer market and building a stronger
industrial base to compete with China, having been promised a quick trade
agreement. Meanwhile, diplomats and military officers believed that mutual
animosity toward China would bring the U.S. and India into a new strategic
partnership.
After 25 years of steady bipartisan effort to expand America’s relationship with
India, Trump’s return to power was widely viewed as the dawn of a bright future
for everyone.
What could possibly go wrong? A lot, it turns out.
For all the optimism about a quick trade deal and stronger bilateral ties,
things began to sour quickly after Modi’s return from Washington. In late
February, Indians watched as their fellow countrymen were deported by the U.S.
Then, amonth later, Trump announced his “Liberation Day” tariffs — socking India
with a 26 percent duty on all imports into the U.S.
But the biggest blow to the relationship came in May, after India retaliated
against Pakistan for a terrorist attack that killed 26 tourists in
Indian-controlled Kashmir. The fighting between the two countries escalated
quickly, and by the third day, India was targeting a military base near the army
division that oversees Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal.
This was hardly the first time the two countries came to serious blows — they
have fought four wars in 75 years. But in the meantime, both nations have
developed substantial nuclear arsenals, making any military confrontation that
much more dangerous.
At first, the U.S. feigned little interest in the conflict, with Vice President
JD Vance telling Fox News: “We’re not going to get involved in the middle of a
war that’s fundamentally none of our business.” But once the fighting escalated,
both Vance and Secretary of State Marco Rubio got on the phone to both
countries, and a ceasefire was quickly concluded.
Trump immediately claimed credit for engineering the end to fighting, suggesting
he used trade to bring both parties to heel. “We stopped a nuclear conflict,”
the U.S. leader claimed. “I think it could have been a bad nuclear war, millions
of people could have been killed, so I’m very proud of that.” But while Pakistan
was quick to give the White House the credit it wanted, India insisted the deal
had been reached bilaterally.
Those in India who long warned about entangling alignments are now having a
field day, and Narendra Modi himself is talking about the critical importance of
self-reliance. | Antonio Lacerda/EPA
Eventually, as trade talks between India and the U.S. continued to stall over
agriculture and other issues, Trump and Modi spoke on the phone in June. I have
been told that during this call, the U.S. president insisted Modi publicly give
him credit for ending the fighting in May, and that he invited the Indian prime
minister to the White House when the Chief of Army Staff of Pakistan Asim Munir
would also be visiting.
Modi wasn’t about to consider either of these requests. India has always
insisted its conflict with Pakistan is a purely bilateral issue, pointing to
earlier agreements between the two countries that reject outside mediation. And
as prime minister, Modi could never accept the idea of meeting with the
Pakistani military chief as if they were equals.
This was the last call between the two leaders. Washington’s stance in the trade
negotiations hardened after Modi’s rejection of Trump’s entreaties, making a
deal less likely. And Trump has been insisting that a final agreement be reached
between him and Modi directly. However, the Indian leader knows what the U.S.
president really wants — his public assent to the idea that Trump prevented a
nuclear confrontation.
This background helps partly explain why Trump decided to single India out for
punishment for its purchase of Russian oil not long after.
In early August, as the U.S. president indicated his growing displeasure with
Russia over its war in Ukraine, he declared India a “dead economy” and announced
an additional 25 percent tariff on the country for importing oil from Russia.
Many countries buy Russian oil and other energy products — including the U.S.,
which buys enriched uranium for its nuclear reactors from Russia — but only
India was punished.
It was a confusing decision: The U.S. has long encouraged India to buy Russian
oil, provided its purchases stay below the $60 oil cap agreed by Western
countries. Without Russian supplies, oil prices would spike and fuel inflation.
Plus, China is a far bigger buyer of oil and gas than India, yet no tariffs or
sanctions were imposed on Beijing.
So, after a quarter century of building a strategic partnership with the world’s
most populous economy — its second-largest democracy and soon-to-be
third-largest economy — why single India out? As commentators around the world
were quick to note, it makes no economic, political or strategic sense.
But the damage has already been done. The enrollment of Indian students in U.S.
universities is down 40 to 50 percent from last year’s record high of 300,000.
Businesses are looking for other export markets, aided by new trade deals with
Britain and, soon, the EU. Indian officials are strengthening relations with
Moscow, and Modi traveled to China for the first time in seven years.
Those in India who long warned about entangling alignments are now having a
field day, and Modi himself is talking about the critical importance of
self-reliance. The U.S., meanwhile, is losing a strategic partner in an
important part of the world.
Ivo Daalder, former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is a senior fellow at Harvard
University’s Belfer Center and host of the weekly podcast “World Review with Ivo
Daalder.” He writes POLITICO’s From Across the Pond column.
U.S. President Donald Trump’s quixotic quest to receive the Nobel Peace Prize
has guided his foreign policy ever since returning to power. Unfortunately, his
desire to be the world’s “peacemaker-in-chief” is based on a profound fallacy:
that peace merely entails an end to fighting.
As any student of Prussian general and military theorist Carl von Clausewitz
knows, war and peace are not opposites — they’re the two ends of a continuum
that defines relations between states. “War,” the general once famously
remarked, is “the continuation of politics by other means.”
It’s doubtful Trump has read Clausewitz, or that he even cares much about the
actual details of war and peace. His goal is different: to be recognized as the
person who ends wars.
“I’ve stopped six wars,” he said last month. “I’m averaging about one a month” —
a claim that, if true, would indeed be deserving of a Nobel. So, let’s take a
closer look at his record as peacemaker thus far.
The list of wars Trump professes to have ended starts with the clash between
India and Pakistan last May. “They have been fighting for about a thousand
years,” the U.S. president claimed, “but “I got things settled.” He also added
that he may well have prevented a nuclear war.
India, however, vociferously denies any U.S. involvement in bringing the
fighting to a close. And even if Delhi needs to maintain that line for domestic
purposes, the fact remains that a ceasefire is hardly the same as a lasting
settlement to a conflict dating back to India’s independence and partition in
1947.
Actual peace would mean settling the competing claims over Kashmir, which have
resulted in violent clashes and wars between the two nations for decades —
though, of course, way short of a millennium. And while the active fighting may
have ended for now, the underlying conflict very much continues to mark
relations between the two countries.
Next on Trump’s list of peace deals is the clash between Israel and Iran.
“Look,” he told a gathering of NATO leaders in June, “we just ended a war in 12
days that was simmering for 30 years.”
That’s partly true — Trump’s decision to target core parts of Iran’s nuclear
program did clearly play an important role in ending Israel’s bombing strikes
and Iran’s counterstrikes. But that’s a far cry from achieving lasting peace.
Instead, Iran will now likely intensify its effort to build a nuclear weapon,
and Israel has made clear it reserves the right to strike at any time if Iran
were to rebuild its nuclear or missile program and air defenses.
Not long after, in late June, came a comparatively more substantial deal to end
the fighting between Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). Brokered
by the U.S. and signed in the Oval Office, the agreement requires Rwanda to
withdraw its troops from the DRC within 90 days.
In Gaza, the U.S. leader has essentially given the Israeli government a green
light to occupy the strip. | Mohammed Saber/EPA
“We just ended a war that was going on for 30 years with 6 million people dead,”
Trump declared — though that number included the millions killed in civil wars
within both nations. “No other president could do it.”
But while this deal is, indeed, a real step toward ending the conflict, it’s
important to remember that the key lies in its implementation. And on that
front, news is much more mixed, as fighting between the Rwandan-backed M23 rebel
group and the DRC continues unabated — in part because M23 didn’t sign on to the
deal.
The following month then saw Trump have a hand in securing a ceasefire between
Cambodia and Thailand, after violent border clashes had erupted in late July.
Facing pressure from China, Malaysia and the promise of trade deals with the
U.S., the two countries eventually agreed to stop shooting and halt dispatching
more troops to the region.
Yet again, the underlying conflict that resulted in these armed clashes remains
unresolved. Cambodia and Thailand have been fighting over the demarcation of
their border, including for the crucial location of centuries-old Hindu temples
along their 800-kilometer frontier, for decades now. And though Trump’s trade
threats may have helped halt the shooting, that hardly justifies his subsequent
claim “to be the president of PEACE!”
Finally, earlier this month, the U.S. president presided over the conclusion of
a major agreement ending the war between Azerbaijan and Armenia. Following major
clashes over Nagorno-Karabakh — an enclave in Azerbaijan that Armenia had seized
in 1992 and Baku regained in 2023 — much of the leg work on this agreement had
been completed before Trump took office. But two sticking points remained: A
demand from Azerbaijan that Armenia erase any claim to Nagorno-Karabakh from its
constitution — which will require a referendum — and a transportation link
between two parts of Azerbaijan that runs through Armenian territory.
Under Trump, the U.S.-brokered talks did lead to an agreement, including a
U.S.-leased roadway connecting the two areas of Azerbaijan — a substantial deal
and a real accomplishment. But, again, implementation will be key.
Nonetheless, Trump’s boast of ending six wars in six months is a lot less than
meets the eye. The fact is, even if he had been completely successful in ending
these wars, his record would still be overshadowed by his failure to end the two
wars he actually vowed to solve— the wars in Ukraine and Gaza.
Far from ending them in 24 hours, as he boasted he would do during his
reelection campaign, the situation in both has worsened since Trump’s return: In
Gaza, the U.S. leader has essentially given the Israeli government a green light
to occupy the strip, washing his hands of any effort to secure an end to the
fighting. Meanwhile, in Ukraine, he sought to move the peace process forward by
meeting with Russian President Vladimir Putin in Alaska — only to come up
empty-handed and seemingly more in sync with Moscow than Kyiv.
Achieving peace — the resolution of conflict, not just an end to fighting — is
hard. It takes more than a phone call or a meeting, no matter how charismatic
and persuasive the peacemaker thinks they might be. It requires detailed
knowledge, intensive negotiations, a search for compromise and carrots as well
as sticks to get results. And even then, most efforts fail — not because the
peacemaker is incompetent but simply because continuing to fight is often easier
than finding a resolution both sides will accept.
Ivo Daalder, former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is a senior fellow at Harvard
University’s Belfer Center and host of the weekly podcast “World Review with Ivo
Daalder.” He writes POLITICO’s From Across the Pond column.
In the competition between China and the U.S., China is winning.
That isn’t a conclusion many would have drawn six months ago, but now it’s
inescapable.
What’s different today is that since taking office, the administration of U.S.
President Donald Trump has taken many steps that play directly into its
adversary’s hands, weakening its own ability to outcompete. And we will soon be
at the point where this trend is irreversible.
For decades, China followed Deng Xiaoping’s dictum to “hide your strength and
bide your time.” Unfortunately, most Western countries, led by the U.S., ignored
the latter part of this admonition — that Beijing was biding its time — and
instead focused on China as a huge new market for Western goods, services and
capital.
Everyone could get rich from China getting rich, or so it seemed — a sentiment
that Deng and his successors were absolutely fine with. Their purpose, however,
wasn’t to get rich just for the sake of it, but to gain the necessary power to
compete and win against the world’s sole remaining superpower.
So, by the time Xi Jinping ascended to power in 2013, China no longer needed to
bide its time, and it started to show its strength.
In the past decade, China increased its military spending by 800 percent — the
biggest military build-up in peacetime history. It now deploys more naval
vessels than the U.S.; it is modernizing its nuclear arsenal, aiming to reach
close to parity with Russia and the U.S. by the end of the decade; and it flexes
military muscle in places that have long been under the sole purview of the U.S.
However, while its military expansion and reach is impressive, China’s economic,
scientific and technological advances are most worrisome.
Seventy percent of the world’s countries now trade more with China than with the
U.S., with over half of them trading twice as much with China. In Trump’s own
words, America may be a big department store, but the products you can buy in
its stores — and in those across the world — are made in China.
Trade isn’t the only market Beijing’s cornered either. Following a clear and
consistent strategy that was first outlined by Xi in 2015, today it leads the
world in electric vehicles and batteries, robotics, quantum communications,
renewable technologies and more. Indeed, according to one study, while 20 years
ago the U.S. led China in 60 of the 64 frontier technologies key to defense,
energy, computing, biotech and other sectors, China now leads in 57 of these
technologies.
This determination to win is particularly obvious in one area that has featured
prominently in the news recently: rare earth elements and magnets that are
critical for defense, electronics and green-technology manufacturing.
As it stands, China holds almost 50 percent of the world’s rare earth reserves,
controls 70 percent of rare earth mines and accounts for 90 percent of global
rare earth refining capacity. It also controls over 90 percent of critical
magnet production, and successfully used that near-monopoly to force the Trump
administration into backing down from its escalating tariff war and chip export
controls.
Seventy percent of the world’s countries now trade more with China than with the
U.S., with over half of them trading twice as much with China. | Alex
Plavevski/EPA
But even in the areas where the U.S. retains a lead — think AI and quantum
computing — China is catching up. The release of DeepSeek, for example, shocked
the AI community for its speed and sophistication, as it nearly equaled the
vastly more expensive models developed by U.S. tech companies. And the next
DeepSeek generation, I’m told by a top Microsoft AI official, may even exceed
the most advanced models from OpenAI and other firms.
All of this indicates China’s not only catching up but, in many ways, surpassing
the U.S.
America has many advantages in this race — which is how it has managed to stay
ahead, even as Beijing embarked on its long-term strategy to overtake it. But in
the past six months, the Trump administration has systematically begun to
dismantle many of them.
Let’s take partnerships: The biggest advantage for the U.S. is that it has
allies, while China has clients. Collectively, the U.S. and its allies can
outcompete, outspend, out-innovate, out-trade, out-finance and out-attract
others to its side. But Washington’s allies in North America, Europe and Asia
increasingly — and rightfully — fear that the current “America First” policy is
putting them last. They’ve been told to defend themselves, to pay 15 percent or
more in tariffs and, in the case of Canada and Denmark, to cede territory. As a
result, they’re turning toward each other and reducing their military, economic
and political ties to Washington.
And that’s not all. The Trump administration is also pursuing funding policies
around universities and immigration that directly undercut America’s ability to
compete with China. For 80 years, federal research dollars funded scientific and
technological breakthroughs like the internet, genetic sequencing, space
exploration, vaccines, cancer cures and much more. The country’s modern research
universities led the way in spurring these innovations, drawing talent from
across the globe to benefit from and contribute to its ecosystem of innovation.
But Trump has now cut federal funding for basic research by a third, blocked
research grants to top universities for purely ideological reasons and tightened
immigration for international students and scholars. One poll suggests that 75
percent of scientists in the U.S. today are looking to leave the country and
work elsewhere.
It’s hard to underestimate the damage these policies are doing to U.S.
competitiveness. To give just one example, many of the country’s closest allies
are now offering lucrative grants and research opportunities to entice the
talent pool at the core of America’s success as a global innovation machine.
This isn’t just shooting yourself in the foot — it’s shooting yourself in the
head. And unless Washington rectifies the situation swiftly, it will find not
just Beijing but other parts of the world passing it by.