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?

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, 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 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. 

VATICAN CITY — The new American pope is looking to his MAGA compatriots to shore up the Vatican’s finances after decades of scandal and mismanagement. The conclave that brought Pope Leo to power was overshadowed by painful divisions within the Church, a war between modernity and tradition, and bitter reflections over his predecessor’s complex legacy. But more prosaically it was also plagued by angst over a serious fiscal squeeze that is forcing the spiritual leader of the world’s 1.4 billion Catholics to moonlight as a fundraiser. Despite the Vatican’s vaults of priceless masterpieces, Leo has ascended to the papal throne amid a steepening liquidity crisis aggravated by a major downturn in donations from the U.S., making it increasingly difficult for the city state to function. Leo needs to fix it — but to do so he needs to keep traditionalist U.S. Catholics on side. Insiders say that Leo was elected in part because as an American he exuded an Anglo-Saxon financial seriousness. He was also seen as well positioned to bring back donations that have dried up thanks to persistent scandal and the hemorrhaging of support from powerful American Catholic conservatives.  Already, the gambit seems to be working. “Talking to some of the biggest donors in the country, they’re absolutely thrilled,” said one conservative Catholic leader in the U.S., granted anonymity to speak candidly. “I don’t know that they’re already writing their checks. I don’t see that necessarily yet. But as far as their optimism and excitement, it’s a 10 out of 10 — absolutely.” A boost to donations is desperately needed. According to Reuters, the latest internal figures show the Vatican ran a deficit of €83 million in 2024, more than double the €38 million reported in its last-published financial report in 2022.  The annual shortfall adds to liabilities including half-a-billion in pension obligations to the Vatican’s superannuated beneficiaries and past losses from the Institute for the Works of Religion (IOR), the Holy See’s scandal-riddled investment vehicle, also known as the Vatican Bank. The Vatican’s income is mainly derived from property assets and donations including from bishops and Peter’s Pence, the annual June collection by churches for the pope’s “mission” and charitable works. But donation revenue has fallen with increasing secularism and financial scandals. Donors from the U.S., the number one contributing country, were put off by Francis’ more liberal teachings on LGBTQ+ and marriage as well as corruption scandals including a botched investment by the Vatican’s top financial institution in London real estate, said John Yep, president of Catholics for Catholics, a conservative NGO.   ‘VERY EQUILIBRATED’ The momentum behind Leo as a bridge-builder emerged in pre-conclave lobbying sessions, when cardinals began to envisage that Leo’s alignment on hot-button conservative issues would help appease U.S. Catholics. Leo went on to secure more than 100 votes in the conclave, two well-placed insiders say, indicating that his support was broad and included right-leaning clerics.  A man holds a US flag in St. Peter’s Square, Vatican City, 08 May 2025. | Angelo Carconi/EPA-EFE Pope Leo “is a very equilibrated person, and he can give something to the right, without shifting the pontificate to the right,” one cardinal told POLITICO.  According to the cardinal quoted above, his constituency even included several of the die-hard Francis critics led by the arch-traditionalist American cardinal Raymond Burke. Burke himself reportedly received Leo — then Cardinal Robert Prevost — in his Vatican-owned apartment before the conclave, and spoke with him again after, according to one person familiar with the matter. Burke’s office could not reached for comment. In turn, Leo has signaled a willingness to address traditionalist priorities, drawing particular praise for his decision to move back to the original papal residence from his predecessor’s basic lodgings, as well as for his penchant for singing in Latin. This year’s conclave also happened to coincide with an annual Vatican fundraising jamboree known as “America Week,” a week of lavish Rome parties, that saw €1 billion committed to the Vatican should the “right pope” be elected.  The upshot is — theoretically — more money from across the pond. “American philanthropists want to see that so they will open up their coffers again,” said Yep. Electing Leo “was a very smart choice because they absolutely need the American money. The church is in a terrible position financially,” said the Catholic leader in the U.S. quoted above. “They need the American money. And they were able to pick an American who’s not that American. It was kind of a perfect pick.” LEGACY OF CORRUPTION But restoring confidence will also require a credible overhaul of the Vatican’s financial plumbing and accounting after years of scandal that also tainted the Church’s international image. Insiders often blame the shoddy financial situation on the Vatican Bank’s alleged links to a sprawling money-laundering scandal in the 1970s that reportedly involved Italian freemasonry, the mafia, the CIA, anticommunist militias in Latin America and a Milanese banker who was found hanging dead under London’s Blackfriars Bridge in 1982. Creative accounting persisted over the years, and the shock resignation of Francis’ predecessor, Benedict XVI, was partly driven by a raft of financial scandals leaked to the Italian press. Under a transparency drive, Francis hired former Deloitte accountant Libero Milone to audit the Holy See’s finances. Milone’s first task was to draw up accounting for the various dicasteries that make up the Curia, the Vatican City government. What he found stunned him. “They created a proper framework to bring Vatican financial reporting into the 21st century,” Milone told POLITICO. “But when I was brought in to do the audit work, we were still operating in the previous century.” Newly elected Pope Leo XIV smiles from the central loggia of Saint Peter’s Basilica, Vatican City, 08 May 2025. | Ettore Ferrari/EPA-EFE Financial accounts were written in pencil by nuns on “pieces of paper” and stashed in drawers, Milone said. Theologians with rudimentary financial knowledge massively underestimated the future costs of the microstate’s pension obligations, he said. When Milone began to notice discrepancies in various ministerial budgets, he was accused of being a spy. He was eventually brought in for questioning and compelled to resign — then found that a resignation letter had already been prepared a month prior. Francis didn’t sit on his hands. The Vatican Bank is profitable again, after he ended some of its shadier practices, and he also presided over the conviction of Cardinal Giovanni Angelo Becciu, a powerful secretary involved in a €200 million scandal involving a botched London property investment in 2014. As well as a hiring freeze and salary cuts, Francis set up a new fundraising commission and centralized the Vatican’s budgeting.  But the broader reform effort was seriously derailed by the departure of Milone, as well as Cardinal George Pell, an Australian who had been brought in to head a new Secretariat for the Economy but was called back to Australia to face charges relating to the clerical abuse scandal. Officials describe an enduring lack of transparency as well as internal resistance to the slow-going reform efforts from entrenched interests in the Curia, with staffers complaining about the effort to mediate spending. Representatives for the IOR and the Holy See’s Secretariat for the Economy declined POLITICO’s requests for interviews. So far, Leo has hinted that he will prioritize fundraising over austerity, announcing a €500 bonus to curial staffers. He has also signalled that he wants to distance the Vatican from scandals of the past, sanctioning a new investigation into a key witness against Cardinal Becciu’s conviction which could help overturn his conviction at the appeal this fall. On top of that, he will look into ways to boost profits in the Holy See’s vast real estate portfolio, after prelates complained about underinvestment, said the cardinal quoted above.  How all this pans out will depend on not only American largesse but whether Leo can empower the growing caucus of Church pragmatists who recognize that even the Holy See must occasionally lower itself to earthly responsibilities like basic financial planning. For others, the divine mission still trumps all — whatever the cost. “There will always be a way to get money, just like there will always be the poor,” said one prelate in St. Peter’s Square last month. “Right now, my concern is lunch.”

Ivo Daalder, former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is CEO of the Chicago Council on Global Affairs and host of the weekly podcast “World Review with Ivo Daalder.” He writes POLITICO’s From Across the Pond column. “The Trump Summit” — that’s what U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio called this week’s gathering of NATO leaders in The Hague. And he wasn’t wrong. The 32 leaders who gathered for the annual meeting had one goal in mind: sufficiently satisfy U.S. President Donald Trump on defense spending, so he won’t blow up the alliance. And in that task, they succeeded. Trump claimed the win as NATO countries agreed to spend 5 percent of gross domestic product on defense by 2035, and other allies breathed a sigh of relief as the U.S. president reiterated America’s commitment to NATO — at least for now. These are all reasons to celebrate: The U.S. remains a key alliance member; Europe’s commitment to spend means that, in time, its governments will take on much greater responsibility for their own defense; and NATO will now be better able to deter and, if necessary, defend against a military threat from Russia. Behind all the backslapping, broad smiles and bonhomie, though, it’s impossible to ignore the real concerns and fears that now fully penetrate the alliance. Most importantly, it’s difficult to gloss over the vast difference in how alliance members view the threat posed by Russia. While the brief statement agreed by leaders calls Russia a “long-term threat,” this language is considerably toned down compared to last year’s statement, which called it “the most significant and direct threat to Allies’ security.” And when asked directly whether he agreed President Vladimir Putin was “an adversary,” Trump deflected. Shared threat perception forms the very core of a military alliance — and disagreements about the nature of the Russian (and, before that, Soviet) threat have often led to crises. But the U.S. had never before led the effort to downplay the military challenge from the East. Of course, these differences in threat perception also inform the alliance’s policy toward Ukraine — a country that’s been the victim of Russia’s aggression for over a decade now. Trump sees this war as a purely “European situation” and has given up on his rather short-lived effort to end the conflict. But for most Europeans, Ukraine and its security are integral to peace on their continent. And despite Trump firmly closing NATO’s door to Kyiv, Secretary-General Mark Rutte and other allied leaders insist its path to membership is “irreversible.” It’s not just the main threat to NATO that Trump sees differently, though. He has also called the idea that security within the alliance is indivisible — that one ally’s security depends on the security of all allies — into question. That is the core idea behind NATO’s Article 5 collective defense guarantee, and yet, Trump doesn’t buy into it. “There’s numerous definitions of Article 5,” he told reporters on his way to the summit. “You know that, right? But I’m committed to being their friends.” In reality, however, its definition is clear: “An armed attack against one or more of them in Europe or North America shall be considered an attack against them all.” And so far, it’s been invoked precisely once — after the 9/11 terrorist attacks against the U.S., leading every single ally to deploy troops and capabilities to Afghanistan, many for well over a decade. Being a friend is one thing, being a real ally another. The latter is what matters in international politics, and America’s NATO allies are as worried about Trump not understanding this as they are about Russia. NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte, German Chancellor Friedrich Merz, U.S. President Donald Trump and UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer pose with NATO heads of state and government for an official “family photo”. | Omar Havana/Getty Images That is why they agreed to spend so much more on defense — 5 percent of GDP, including 3.5 percent on core defense capabilities, nearly double the current 2 percent mark. European allies and Canada have all come to understand they can no longer count on the U.S. for their security and defense. As U.S. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth told them in February: “Stark strategic realities prevent the United States of America from being primarily focused on the security of Europe.” Moreover, while claiming victory over the 5 percent target, Trump made clear the U.S. would exempt itself from it. “We’ve been supporting NATO so long,” he said, when asked about the new requirement. “So, I don’t think we should, but I think that the NATO countries should, absolutely.” Even more important than the spending target, however, is the agreement made on new force requirements to ensure the defense of NATO against Russia and other military threats. These detail the military forces and capabilities each NATO country will need to acquire and deploy, so the alliance can counter any threat to its security. Then, as spending increases, troops are trained, and new forces are fielded, both Europe and Canada will assume a much greater share of the overall defense burden, replacing their long-standing dependence on the U.S. In turn, responsibility for NATO will shift increasingly toward Europe. This isn’t a bad thing — Europe can, and needs to, do more to ensure its own security. But it will change the alliance’s internal power balance, moving it away from Washington and toward Brussels and other European capitals. Unlike all his predecessors, Trump isn’t interested in burden-sharing. He wants burden-shifting. And as a result, Washington’s influence in and leverage over both NATO and Europe will steadily diminish.

Ivo Daalder, former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is CEO of the Chicago Council on Global Affairs and host of the weekly podcast “World Review with Ivo Daalder.” He writes POLITICO’s From Across the Pond column. In the next few weeks, U.S. President Donald Trump will meet with America’s main allies for the first time since returning to office. On Sunday, he flew to Canada for the annual G7 meeting, and later this month, he’ll go to the Netherlands for the annual NATO Summit. At both meetings, America’s allies will try to placate him on issues ranging from trade and security to the preservation of these forums as a means of coordination and cooperation in the face of critical challenges. And while Trump regularly sought to blow up such meetings in his first term, allies are growing confident they’ve done enough to avoid mishaps this time around. Even if these meetings proceed without incident, however, they’d be wrong to assume all is right and well in their relations with the U.S. The global environment has fundamentally shifted since Trump’s return five months ago. Most crucially, he and his administration have begun a wholesale assault on the economic, political and security foundations of Washington’s relationship with longstanding allies. Let’s start with security. Trump has made clear he doesn’t believe that U.S. security and that of its allies is indivisible — a core principle that’s guided U.S. engagement over the past 80 years. And Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth has emphasized that NATO’s European members need “to take ownership of conventional security in Europe.” In other words, Europe’s security is no longer viewed as a joint responsibility. The same is true for the war in Ukraine, which Trump had promised to end in a day. “This was a European situation, and should have remained a European situation,” he said last month after another disappointing call with Russian President Vladimir Putin. In fact, Trump’s “America First” approach to security even extends to Canada, a neighbor and NATO member, which he promised to help defend only if it became America’s 51st state — this, despite the fact given the laws of geography, any attack on Canada would pose a dire threat to the U.S. In fact, Donald Trump urged Vladimir Putin to end the war in Ukraine by promising increased trade. | Pool Photo by Sergey Bobylev via EPA Next, there’s the economy, and on that front, Trump has long made clear he views America’s closest allies as countries that have taken advantage of it for decades. He believes the German and Japanese auto industries have succeeded largely because of unfair trade that disadvantages U.S. car exports. He thinks Canada is undermining America’s steel, dairy and lumber industries. He sees trade deficits as proof of unfair competition. He also argues that “the European Union was formed to screw the United States.” Trump’s singular answer to all these problems is tariffs — “the most beautiful word in the world.” He invoked national security as a justification for 50 percent tariffs on steel imports from Canada, Europe and elsewhere; 25 percent tariffs on autos and auto parts; and threatened to do the same with pharmaceutical and semiconductor imports. He also levied an across-the-board 10 percent tariff on all imports, while promising to raise these to 20 percent or more, unless new trade deals are agreed by July 9. Interestingly, while China and other countries that aren’t allied with the U.S. have also been targeted with tariffs, Russia has been spared such levies. In fact, Trump urged Putin to end the war in Ukraine by promising increased trade. That’s right. Russia — a true threat to European security — is being offered what Trump called a “tremendous” opportunity for massive growth. Finally, while it might not have the most immediate impact, it’s the Trump administration’s political offensive on its allies — and especially against Europe — that will have long-lasting consequences. It started with Vice President JD Vance’s speech at the Munich Security Conference in February, where he warned a stunned audience that “the threat that I worry the most about vis-à-vis Europe is not Russia, it’s not China,” but “the threat from within, the retreat of Europe from some of its most fundamental values.” It didn’t escape many in the room that this language was what German leaders used in the 1930s to accuse Jews and others of treachery. This attack on European values has escalated ever since. Top administration officials have openly sided with far-right forces in Germany, Romania and Poland in the run-up to national elections. Then, when the German domestic intelligence agency classified the far-right Alternative for Germany party as an extremist organization, Secretary of State Marco Rubio took to X to complain: “This is not democracy—it’s tyranny in disguise.” To top it off, late last month, the State Department published an essay accusing Europeans of waging “an aggressive campaign against Western civilization itself.” “The suppression of speech, facilitation of mass migration, targeting of religious expression, and undermining of electoral choice threatens the very foundation of the transatlantic partnership,” the author proclaimed. It was a stunning rebuke — especially coming from an administration engaging in the mass deportation of immigrants, cutting funds to fight hunger and disease around the world, weaponizing claims of antisemitism to target universities, ignoring judicial rulings and creating loyalty tests for government employment while pressuring the media to toe the line. This is a fundamental shift in how the U.S. now views its allies. And though keeping Trump onside during the G7 and NATO summits will be important, erstwhile allies in North America, Europe and Asia would do well to spend time coordinating their response to his administration’s wholesale assault on their long-standing partnership.

Ivo Daalder, former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is CEO of the Chicago Council on Global Affairs 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, the man who wrote “The Art of the Deal,” hasn’t had much success in making deals so far.   Russia has rejected his overtures to end the war in Ukraine. Israel and Hamas defied his efforts to end the war in Gaza. And China appears to be in no mood to strike a deal to end the trade war he sparked.  When it comes to Iran, however, things may be looking up.  Negotiators from the U.S. and Iran met in Oman last Saturday, and again this weekend, for face-to-face talks about ending Iran’s nuclear program. And Trump, who walked away from the original 2015 nuclear deal during his first term, is now well-positioned to secure a lasting deal.  The question is: What kind?  Since the U.S. abandoned the agreement that curtailed Iran’s nuclear program in 2018, Tehran has accelerated its enrichment of uranium, which is a critical step toward building a nuclear weapon. Hence, the need for a quick resolution is more urgent than ever.  Currently, there are three aspects of Iran’s nuclear activities that are particularly worrying: First, after deploying advanced centrifuges able to enrich uranium at a much faster pace, the country has massively expanded its enrichment capabilities.  Second, as it’s been producing highly enriched uranium since 2021, Iran has now stockpiled about 275 kilograms of uranium enriched to 60 percent. That’s sufficient for about six nuclear weapons once enriched to 90 percent purity — meaning, it would take Iran less than two weeks to produce enough bomb-grade material for a single weapon.  Finally, late last year, the U.S. intelligence community concluded that Iran was examining ways to build a crude weapons stockpile in a matter of months, rather than waiting the year or more it would take its engineers to manufacture a weapon that could be deployed atop a ballistic missile.  But how will the U.S. approach the issue?  Voices within the Trump administration are urging competing actions. One faction, led by Secretary of State Marco Rubio and National Security Adviser Mike Waltz, believes a diplomatic approach will fail because Iran can’t be trusted and they favor a military campaign. A second faction, led by Vice President JD Vance and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, believes using force is too risky and favor diplomatic resolution instead.  U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio, right, and National Security Adviser Mike Waltz favor a military campaign. | Pool picture by Saul Loeb/AFP via Getty Images Trump, as is his m.o., has indicated support for both factions.  He’s repeatedly threatened the use of force, saying: “If they don’t make a deal, there will be bombing … It will be bombing the likes of which they have never seen before.” And to back up his threat, the U.S. has moved significant military capability to the region — including two carrier strike forces and at least six B2 bombers capable of dropping the GBU-57 “bunker buster,” which can penetrate 200 feet of concrete before detonating.  At the same time, Trump has also reached out to Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei to propose direct negotiations, indicating a desire to resolve the issue through diplomacy. He has sent his top peace envoy, Steve Witkoff, to lead the talks, and reached out to Russian President Vladimir Putin, urging Moscow to help convince Tehran of the need for a deal.  Trump’s carrots and sticks have now led to the first direct U.S.-Iranian talks in a decade — that’s no mean feat. And crucially, Tehran appears to understand that the alternative to diplomacy would be direct military confrontation, at a time when it is perhaps weaker than it’s ever been since the Iran-Iraq War in the 1980s.   The axis of resistance that Iran painstakingly built over the past decades, arcing from Iran through to Iraq, Syria and Lebanon, has been effectively dismantled over the past six months by Israeli strikes and Bashar Assad’s ouster from Damascus.  The country itself has been militarily weakened after its two massive missile and drone strikes against Israel failed to do much damage and Israel’s retaliation, which decimated Iran’s air defenses around the capital and its ballistic missile production facilities. It also under significant economic pressure, as decades-long sanctions have brought Tehran close to the economic abyss.  Thus, key Iranian leaders were reportedly able to convince Khamenei that failure to secure a deal would lead to war abroad, as well as an economic collapse at home that could threaten the regime.  So, the current onset of talks underscores that both leaders’ are interested in a deal.  And while many in the U.S. criticized the 2015 agreement for being time-limited, for allowing Iran to maintain enrichment facilities and for excluding limits on Iran’s ballistic missile forces and destabilizing regional activities, this time around Tehran has suggested it’s open to discussing regional issues, as well as strict, verifiable limits on its nuclear program. However, there are clear red lines — like any demands to dismantle its nuclear program and ballistic missile capabilities.  This means it all depends on how far Trump wants to push. And on that matter, we’ve seen conflicting signs.  After the first round of talks ended, U.S. Special Envoy to the Middle East Steve Witkoff said only enrichment beyond 3.67 percent would be banned — as in the 2015 agreement. But a day later, he indicated “a Trump deal” would have to include the elimination of all nuclear enrichment. Meanwhile, Trump himself said: “Iran has to get rid of the concept of a nuclear weapon.” But it’s unclear what he means by that.  Overall, given Iran’s weakened state and Trump’s eagerness for a deal, success is possible. However, the final deal — if there is one — is more likely to resemble the 2015 one he repeatedly described as “the worst deal in history,” rather than something more stringent, which many of the agreement’s, mainly Republican, critics desired.  Trump has also reached out to Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei to propose direct negotiations | Iranian Supreme Leader Office/EFE via EPA But politics has changed since 2015. And Trump will likely be lauded for reaching such an agreement by the very people who criticized then-President Barack Obama for signing one.  Perhaps that’s the true art of the deal.  

Ivo Daalder, former U.S. ambassador to NATO, is CEO of the Chicago Council on Global Affairs and host of the weekly podcast “World Review with Ivo Daalder.” He writes POLITICO’s From Across the Pond column. Signalgate is taking Washington by storm. All week, a journalist’s surprise inclusion in a Signal group chat of top U.S. officials discussing details of a military operation has been dominating headlines, congressional hearings and press conferences. So far, much of the discussion has focused on why this happened, when information is classified, what constitutes a war plan and whether anyone needs to be held accountable. But while these are all important issues, what these text messages (all of which are now released) say is equally revealing. Namely, they tell us what key administration officials think about the world. And that, if anything, is even more worrying than the discussion of highly sensitive operational issues on an open digital platform. Let’s start with what this episode tells about process: The reason we got this unique insight into the workings of U.S. President Donald Trump’s administration is because National Security Advisor Mike Waltz mistakenly added the Atlantic editor Jeffrey Goldberg to a Signal group chat of top national security officials. Of course, anyone can make a mistake. But the only reason Goldberg was invited to join is because Waltz and the other officials were using a commercial application available to anyone. One reason to use closed systems for sensitive information is so outsiders can’t be mistakenly added to chats, email chains or other official communications. So, why use a commercial app for government business? According to Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard, the app was pre-installed on government-issued cell phones. If true, that would be remarkable. Commercial apps are generally banned from government devices. Moreover, apps that allow messages to disappear in a week or less would certainly seem to violate the Federal Records Act, which requires all official communications be retained and stored. Equally interesting is that the Signal group excluded one of Trump’s most important presidential advisers: Acting Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Admiral Christopher W. Grady. And while the group included most principals and many deputies, the exclusion of the administration’s most senior military adviser raises profound questions about how top officials get their information. Process aside, though, the chats also provide real insight into how top Trump officials see the world — especially America’s oldest allies in Europe. And it’s not a pretty picture. Vice President JD Vance is the first to mention the continent in the chat, while raising doubts about Trump’s decision to strike the Houthis. “I think we are making a mistake,” he writes. It’s Europe, not the U.S., that relies on the trade route through the Suez Canal. The American public won’t understand why the U.S. is launching strikes to open the sea lanes when the main beneficiary is Europe, he says. Waltz responds by noting it’s unclear how much of the trade passing through Suez eventually ends up in the U.S., but he agrees it will benefit Europe most. (Interestingly, no one seems to think about China, which is clearly the most dependent on these sea lanes, but I digress). The chats also provide real insight into how top Donald Trump officials see the world —especially America’s oldest allies in Europe. | Win McNamee/Getty Images European navies, Waltz contends, cannot “defend against the types of sophisticated, antiship, cruise missiles, and drones the Houthis are now using” — only the U.S. can open these lanes. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth agrees: “We are the only ones on the planet … who can do this.” The exchange raises two questions. First, its military analysis is debatable. European navies have, in fact, been sailing these seas for more than a year, and some have participated in striking Houthi targets in Yemen in past operations. Of course, the U.S. Navy is more capable and packs more firepower, but that doesn’t mean it can stop the Houthis from threatening shipping and effectively closing the sea lanes. Perhaps having a real military expert in the chat would have helped better inform the discussion. The other question is about America’s role in the world. It’s clear from the exchange that Trump decided to authorize the strikes because he wanted the sea lanes open — which is consistent with the longstanding view of America’s global role. Indeed, a major reason the U.S. has a blue-water navy is to ensure freedom of navigation for all commercial and other shipping. But Vance sees the military operation as a favor to Europe — not a general need Washington has long fulfilled. When he finally agrees to support the strikes, he adds: “I just hate bailing out Europe again.” And he’s not alone. “VP: I fully share your loathing of European free-loading. It’s PATHETIC,” Hegseth writes, while Waltz notes it should be added to the list of “horribles on why the Europeans need to invest in their defense.” Maybe I missed it, but I’m not aware of any European nation asking the U.S. to strike the Houthis at this time. That was a decision Trump and his team made on their own — and a key reason, Hegesth noted, was to restore deterrence vis-à-vis Iran. That said, it’s clear Trump shares his advisers’ views. Indeed, at one point, Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller — whom Waltz added to the chat only after Vance disagreed with the president’s decision — chimes in. The president has given a “green light” for the strikes, but, he adds, “we soon make clear to Egypt and Europe what we expect in return.” And that includes economic concessions: “If the US successfully restores freedom of navigation at great cost, there needs to be some further economic gain extracted in return.” Freedom of navigation may be a national interest, but that’s only up to a point. Apparently, the U.S. military is for hire, even if there has been no request for its services. And if you want us — you have to pay.