A 19th-Century Vision in a 21st-Century World
Trump’s defense doctrine is based on a few simple axioms that have been repeated ad nauseam for decades: America pays too much, its allies take advantage of it, raw military force intimidates adversaries, and agreements are better negotiated from a position of military superiority. This philosophy made a certain amount of sense in the bipolar world of the Cold War, or even in the 1990s, when the United States dominated without serious challenge. Today, it has been rendered obsolete—dangerously obsolete—by the reality of hybrid conflicts, proxy wars, the fragmentation of the multilateral order, and the rise of China as a systemic competitor.
Modern conflicts are not won at the negotiating table through mere intimidation. The war in Ukraine has brutally demonstrated this: the resilience of a people, the strategic depth of a territory, the strength of alliances—all these factors matter as much, if not more, than the volume of firepower available. Vladimir Putin gambled on a blitzkrieg. He found himself bogged down in a war of attrition that has now lasted more than three years. Trump, who believes he can resolve this conflict in 24 hours—a campaign promise he never kept—reveals through this single statement the chasm between his perception of war and its contemporary reality.
The Middle East as a Magnifying Mirror
Look at what is happening in the Middle East. Gaza. Lebanon. Syria. Iran. A tangled web of actors, interests, and historical grievances that have been building up for decades. Trump has always approached this region with the same oversimplification: Israel is right, moderate Arab countries can be bought off, and Iran must be contained through maximum pressure. This approach produced the Abraham Accords—a real, but partial, diplomatic success that did not resolve the Palestinian question and helped radicalize part of the region. What the Trump administration seems to ignore—or refuse to admit—is that the regional destabilization created by its own policies has helped make the Middle East more volatile, not less.
I am not naive enough to believe that another U.S. administration would have solved everything. The Middle East is a Gordian knot that no one has yet been able to cut. But there is a difference between failing to resolve a problem and making it worse. Trump, with his newly declared enthusiasm for military options, risks crossing that line.
Ukraine: The Trap and the Abyss
A forced peace that would not be a peace at all
Ukraine is the most immediately explosive issue. Since returning to power, Trump has sent a series of contradictory signals: pressure on Kyiv to negotiate, overt mistrust of European allies, and attempts at dialogue with Moscow. This chaotic diplomatic dance reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of what is at stake. This is not a neighborhood dispute. It is an existential war for Ukraine—a nation of 40 million people that refuses to disappear—and a test of credibility for NATO, whose cohesion is the only thing preventing Putin from advancing further west.
A forced peace that would compel Ukraine to cede occupied territories without credible security guarantees would not be peace. It would be a capitulation disguised as a compromise. And it would send a devastating message to every nation wondering whether the U.S. commitment is still worth anything. The Baltic states, Poland, Finland, Sweden—all these nations that have joined or strengthened their NATO membership precisely because they fear Russia—are watching with growing anxiety to see what Washington is willing to promise them. And what it is willing to deliver.
The Temptation of Withdrawal and Its Consequences
What worries the most serious strategic analysts is not that Trump wants peace. Peace is a legitimate and necessary goal. It is the method—and above all, the conditions he seems willing to accept—that poses a problem. A hasty U.S. withdrawal from Ukraine—without a solid security framework, without verifiable guarantees, and without credible deterrence mechanisms—would not end the war. It would simply shift the balance of risk. Since 2014, Putin has shown that he interprets Western withdrawals as invitations. The 2021 withdrawal from Afghanistan—even though it took place under Biden—was interpreted in Moscow as a sign of strategic weakness. Another withdrawal, in another theater, would reinforce that interpretation in an exponentially dangerous way.
There is something deeply painful about watching a people fight with extraordinary courage for their survival, only to see the leading Western power consider withdrawing its support out of political impatience. Ukraine is not a diplomatic inconvenience. It is a country. With people. Who are dying.
China: The Structural Threat That Trump Is Turning Into a Trade Lever
Confusing Economics and Geopolitics
China is the dominant strategic challenge of the 21st century. Nearly all serious analysts—from the left and the right, Republicans and Democrats alike—agree on this point. Where opinions diverge radically is on the method. Trump treats competition with Beijing as a trade negotiation, with tariffs as his primary tool. This approach overlooks something essential: for China, competition with the United States is not economic. It is existential, civilizational, and ideological. Xi Jinping is not negotiating for better market access. He is building an alternative world order.
While Trump brandishes tariff threats and plays on market fluctuations, China is building military bases in the South China Sea, investing heavily in breakthrough military technologies—artificial intelligence, hypersonic technology, electronic warfare—and consolidating strategic partnerships in Africa, Latin America, and the Middle East. Beijing’s geopolitical strategy is a long-term one, pursued with a patience and consistency that the Trump administration, by its very nature, is structurally incapable of countering.
Taiwan, the Neglected Powder Keg
And then there is Taiwan. The island that China considers a rebel province, which the United States has defended in an ambiguous manner for decades—a strategic ambiguity that has so far preserved peace. Trump has already suggested, during his first term and since his return, that Taiwan should pay for its own defense. This statement, seemingly based on sound business sense, is in reality a geopolitical time bomb. It signals to Beijing that the U.S. resolve to defend Taiwan is conditional—that it can be monetized, that it comes at a price. For Xi Jinping, who is looking for a sign that the time is right for decisive action on Taiwan, this is exactly the kind of signal he’s waiting for.
Deterrence is a conviction—not a transaction. The moment an adversary doubts your resolve, it begins to calculate. And in the case of Taiwan, a miscalculation by Beijing could trigger a conflict that would make all recent wars look like regional skirmishes.
Iran: The Temptation of Maximum Escalation
The Return of Maximum Pressure and Its Adverse Effects
Trump reinstated his policy of maximum pressure against Iran within the first few weeks of his return to power. Tighter sanctions, bellicose rhetoric, and unconditional support for Israel in its strikes against Iranian positions in Syria and Lebanon. On paper, this approach makes a certain amount of sense: to weaken the mullahs’ regime economically in order to force it to negotiate its nuclear program. In practice, recent history shows that maximum pressure without a credible diplomatic way out does not lead to the regime’s capitulation. Instead, it leads to the radicalization of its security apparatus, the acceleration of its nuclear program, and an increase in proxy attacks carried out by Hezbollah, the Houthis, and other regional militias.
Iran in 2025 is closer to military nuclear capability than it has ever been. Experts at the International Atomic Energy Agency estimate that Tehran could have enough fissile material for a weapon within a few weeks if the political decision were made. This is the direct result of the U.S. withdrawal from the Vienna Agreement in 2018—a decision made by Trump during his first term—which released Iran from its obligations without replacing them with anything substantial. Now, “maximum pressure” redux must deal with the consequences of the original “maximum pressure.” It’s a snake biting its own tail, and the bite could prove fatal.
The Preemptive Strike Scenario
What is most concerning about Trump’s renewed interest in military options is the scenario of a U.S. or U.S.-Israeli preemptive strike against Iran’s nuclear facilities. This scenario, which was already being discussed during his first term, is once again being seriously considered in political circles in Washington and Tel Aviv. Such a strike could set back Iran’s nuclear program by a few years—estimates vary. But it would almost certainly trigger a wave of regional retaliation on an unprecedented scale: the closure of the Strait of Hormuz, attacks on U.S. bases in the region, and widespread escalation involving Hezbollah, the Houthis, and potentially other actors. The human and economic cost would be colossal.
The question is not whether Iran is a threat. It is. The question is whether a military strike would solve the problem or turn it into something far worse. The recent history of U.S. military interventions in the Middle East does not inspire optimism.
European Allies Confront American Unpredictability
NATO Faces an Existential Crisis
The Atlantic Alliance is facing a crisis of confidence unlike any it has experienced since its founding. This is not the first time the United States and its European allies have had disagreements. It is the first time, however, that doubts about the U.S. commitment have come directly from the U.S. president, in such an explicit and repeated manner. Trump has suggested on several occasions that he would not automatically defend NATO members that do not meet the 2% of GDP defense spending target. This conditionality—even if it has a legitimate basis in burden-sharing—represents a fundamental break with the doctrine of collective deterrence that has maintained peace in Europe for 75 years.
European countries have responded in two ways. On the one hand, there has been an acceleration in military spending—Germany, once reluctant for understandable historical reasons, has significantly increased its defense budget. Poland now devotes nearly 4% of its GDP to defense. On the other hand, there has been a profound strategic rethinking of European defensive autonomy—how can Europe ensure its own security if Washington is no longer a reliable partner? This question, long considered hypothetical, is now an operational emergency.
The Trump Paradox: Weakening the Alliance One Claims to Defend
There is a central paradox in Trump’s policy toward NATO. By threatening to withdraw the U.S. security umbrella from allies who do not spend enough, he achieves what he wants in the short term—an increase in European contributions. But in the long term, he is producing something he may not have anticipated: a Europe that is gradually breaking away from U.S. tutelage. When French President Emmanuel Macron speaks of European strategic autonomy, it is no longer merely a long-term vision. It is a necessity for political survival. And a Europe that is more militarily autonomous is also a Europe less dependent on Washington—which, for a president who measures everything in terms of influence and leverage, represents a net loss of American power.
Trump wants a NATO that pays more. He’s getting a NATO that doubts more. These two things are not compatible in the long term. Deterrence rests on the certainty of mutual commitment—not on a contractual relationship that is renegotiated every four years.
Military rhetoric as a tool of domestic politics
When Foreign Policy Serves Domestic Policy
To fully understand Trump’s renewed interest in military issues, one must look not only outward—toward conflicts, adversaries, and allies—but also inward. Trump’s foreign policy has always had a crucial domestic dimension. Showdowns of force, statements about American military superiority, promises to end wars “in 24 hours”—all of this is aimed first and foremost at an electoral base that wants to see a strong, decisive president capable of projecting American power without getting bogged down in “endless wars.”
The problem with this exploitation of foreign policy for electoral purposes is that it creates expectations that are impossible to meet. Trump promised peace in Ukraine. It hasn’t come. He promised to “settle” the Middle East. The region is in turmoil. He promised to contain China. Beijing has never been more assertive. These failures—relative, partial, but real—are creating mounting political pressure. And presidents under political pressure tend to seek quick, visible, spectacular victories. In foreign policy, quick and spectacular victories often have lasting and catastrophic consequences.
The danger of a military surprise move
This is where the most immediate risk lies. Not a planned, well-thought-out, strategically coherent war—though even that would be problematic. But an impulsive military action, carried out to make a statement, demonstrate American resolve, and deliver a media victory to the electoral base. A “surgical” strike in Iran. A show of force in the South China Sea. A swift operation somewhere to “solve the problem.” These actions, even if limited in their initial intent, have an unfortunate tendency to trigger responses, counter-responses, and escalations that no one anticipated. The 1991 Gulf War was planned. The 2003 Iraq War was planned. Imagine what an improvised military action might produce.
A president seeking a quick victory to satisfy his electoral base, in an explosive geopolitical environment, with advisors more concerned with pleasing him than with analyzing the situation—that is the definition of a strategic accident waiting to happen.
The Lessons Not Learned from Two Decades of Interventionism
Afghanistan, Iraq, Libya: The Ghosts of Recent History
The history of U.S. military operations over the past twenty years should be enough to temper any enthusiasm for a new military adventure. Afghanistan: twenty years of war, two thousand billion dollars, thousands of American lives, and hundreds of thousands of Afghan lives—only to end in a hasty withdrawal that left the Taliban in control of a country in ruins. Iraq: an intervention based on false intelligence that destabilized the Middle East for decades and created the breeding ground that allowed the Islamic State to emerge. Libya: a humanitarian intervention that produced a failed state, a playground for militias and regional powers. These three debacles have one thing in common: Western military hubris in the face of the complexity of local societies.
Paradoxically, Trump has often criticized these interventions. It is one of the few consistent positions he has maintained over the years. But criticizing past wars does not constitute a coherent doctrine for avoiding future wars. Criticizing Iraq while brandishing military threats against Iran is not strategic consistency. It is cognitive dissonance skillfully packaged in authoritative rhetoric. The root causes of the conflicts Trump criticizes—regional instability, a governance vacuum, and historical grievances—are precisely those that his cavalier approach to foreign policy helps to fuel.
The Human Cost That the Numbers Don’t Tell
Behind every foreign policy decision are human beings. American soldiers returning home in coffins or with irreparable trauma. Ukrainian, Gazan, Yemeni, and Syrian civilians whose lives are upended—or ended—by decisions made in offices thousands of kilometers away. These human realities tend to disappear in grand strategic discussions, drowned out by the language of national interests, balances of power, and power dynamics. Trump, more than almost any other recent leader, seems impervious to this human dimension. His rhetoric on war is that of a real estate negotiator—how much does it cost, what do we get, who pays. Never: who dies.
I repeat this because it is too often forgotten: behind every military strike, every sanction that deprives a population of access to medicine, every embargo that starves civilians—there are children. The elderly. Ordinary people who have asked nothing of anyone. This reality should never be abstracted away for those who make these decisions.
International Institutions Confronting U.S. Unilateralism
The UN, NATO, the IMF: A Fragile Architecture
The postwar international order rests on a network of multilateral institutions—the United Nations, NATO, the International Monetary Fund, the World Trade Organization, and the International Criminal Court—designed to collectively manage conflicts, economic crises, and violations of international law. These institutions are imperfect. Some are ineffective. A few are downright dysfunctional. But they represent seventy years of collective efforts to prevent the world from slipping back into the barbarism of the first half of the 20th century. Trump disparages them with remarkable consistency. He sees the UN as an expensive club for meddling, the ICC as a threat to American sovereignty, and the WTO as an unfair mechanism. This mistrust is not entirely without basis—these institutions do have real problems. But dismantling them without replacing them is to plunge into a dangerous void.
When the United States withdraws from multilateral frameworks—as it has done with the Paris Agreement, the Vienna nuclear deal with Iran, UNESCO, and the UN Human Rights Council—it does not eliminate the problems those frameworks were meant to address. It leaves them without a mechanism for collective management. And other actors rush to fill that vacuum. China significantly strengthened its influence in international institutions during the Trump years. Russia continued to use its veto power in the Security Council to paralyze any collective response to its aggressions. American unilateralism does not strengthen America. It weakens the collective mechanisms that compensated for the shortcomings of each individual actor.
The Dangerous Precedent of “Might Makes Right”
There is an even deeper systemic risk in the Trumpian approach: the implicit return to the law of the strongest as the organizing principle of international relations. If the United States can ignore international law when it suits them, what is to prevent Russia from annexing Ukraine? What is to prevent China from incorporating Taiwan by force? What’s to stop any regional power from settling its territorial disputes through military force? The traditional answer was: international rules, backed by American power. When America itself intermittently undermines these rules, depending on its interests at the moment, it erodes the very thing that gave those rules their deterrent power.
International law is not perfect. It is often hypocritical, applied unevenly, and exploited by the powerful. But it is all we have standing between order and chaos. To dismantle it out of impatience or ideology is to play with fire in a powder keg.
What the Asian allies are watching with horror
Japan, South Korea, the Philippines: The Crisis of Trust
While tensions between Washington and its European allies have been widely discussed, the crisis of confidence in the Asia-Pacific region may be even more serious—and less widely reported. Japan, South Korea, the Philippines, and Australia—all of these regional allies have built their security on U.S. guarantees in the face of an increasingly assertive China and a nuclear-armed North Korea. Every ambiguous statement by Trump regarding his willingness to defend his Asian allies is scrutinized in Tokyo, Seoul, and Manila with a level of anxiety that far exceeds what is seen in Europe.
The reason is simple: in Europe, the threat is serious, but geography still offers some buffers. In the Asia-Pacific, potential theaters of conflict are within direct reach. The Korean Peninsula could descend into a nuclear conflict in a matter of hours. Taiwan is separated from mainland China by 130 kilometers of sea. The South China Sea, where China has built military bases on artificial reefs, is a constant powder keg. In this context, any American hesitation is a potentially fatal signal. And Trump, with his transactional approach to collective security, is sending out a barrage of signals of hesitation.
The Accelerating Arms Race
The direct consequence of this crisis of confidence in the Asia-Pacific region is a regional arms race that is accelerating at an alarming rate. Japan, historically pacifist since 1945, has adopted a new defense doctrine that now allows it to strike enemy bases on hostile territory—a revolution in its strategic posture. South Korea is openly discussing, for the first time in decades, the possibility of developing its own independent nuclear capability. Australia has committed to historic levels of military spending as part of the AUKUS partnership with the United States and the United Kingdom. This widespread rearmament is not a response to enemy aggression. It is a response to doubts about American reliability. And the proliferation of military capabilities—especially nuclear ones—in such a tense region is a recipe for an accidental catastrophe.
There is a tragic irony in the fact that Trump, who presents himself as the protector of U.S. security, is—through his unpredictability—fueling a regional arms race that objectively makes the world a more dangerous place. Security cannot be sold off piece by piece. It is built collectively, or it collapses collectively.
The signals that Moscow and Beijing are decoding in real time
Viewing Trump as a Rational Adversary
In Moscow and Beijing, teams of strategic analysts dissect every statement, every tweet, and every appointment within the Trump administration with surgical precision. What they see is not the same as what the Western press sees. Where the media sees chaos, Russian and Chinese strategists see opportunities. Where allies see unpredictability, adversaries see windows of opportunity. Putin learned during Trump’s first term that a U.S. administration destabilized by its own internal contradictions has less capacity and less willingness to respond to external provocations. He learned that Trump values personal relationships over institutional alliances. He learned that promises of deals—even vague ones—can be used to buy time.
For Xi Jinping, the equation is different but the calculation is similar. China is playing the long game. It observes. It builds up capabilities. It waits for the internal contradictions of American democracy to deepen. Every time Washington is absorbed by its domestic crises—and the Trump administration generates them with remarkable efficiency—Beijing gains time. Every time America’s allies lose confidence in Washington, a diplomatic window opens for Chinese diplomacy. Trump’s renewed interest in military options does not necessarily terrify Beijing. It intrigues him. Because an America that brandishes military threats without a coherent strategy is an America that weakens itself.
The Bluff No One Can Afford
Deterrence relies on credibility. Threatening to act but failing to do so destroys credibility. Acting without weighing the consequences leads to escalation. Between these two pitfalls lies a narrow space for firm diplomacy—a stance that combines clear red lines, consistent alliances, and military preparedness without seeking confrontation. This stance requires discipline, patience, and coordination. It requires precisely the qualities that the Trump administration struggles most to demonstrate. The result is an America that makes many threats, acts unpredictably, and whose deterrent credibility is gradually eroding—precisely at a time when the world needs it most.
Deterrence is like a reputation: it takes years to build and can collapse in a matter of weeks. Trump, with his penchant for high-profile stunts, maximum pressure, and dramatic withdrawals, is playing with something far more fragile than he realizes.
Possible Scenarios and Their Probabilities
From Chaotic Management to Uncontrolled Escalation
Let’s try to be analytical and honest about what the coming months might bring. There are several possible scenarios, and none of them is particularly reassuring. The most likely scenario—and, paradoxically, the least bad one—is a continuation of managed chaos: bombastic statements, spectacular about-faces, crises that worsen and then stabilize without any real resolution. Ukraine remains in a stalemate. The Middle East continues to burn. Tensions with China rise without leading to open conflict. It’s painful, costly, and destructive for millions of people—but it’s not a world war.
The intermediate scenario involves limited military action—a strike against Iran, an operation in the South China Sea—that escalates into a major crisis because the adversaries’ responses were not properly anticipated. This scenario is dangerous but not apocalyptic if the de-escalation mechanisms function properly. The least likely but most catastrophic scenario is an accidental escalation—a miscalculation, a disproportionate response, a series of poor decisions made in the heat of the moment—that leads to a direct conflict between nuclear powers. This scenario is unlikely. It is not impossible. And in a world as heavily armed as ours, “unlikely but not impossible” should be enough to keep us awake at night.
What Might Still Work
It would be intellectually dishonest to conclude this analysis without acknowledging that there are scenarios in which the Trump approach yields positive results—even if I consider them less likely. Direct negotiations with Putin, if they lead to a viable ceasefire with real security guarantees for Ukraine, would be a success—even if it’s hard for supporters of a total Ukrainian victory to swallow. Coordinated maximum pressure on Iran, if it forces the regime into genuine nuclear negotiations, would be preferable to proliferation. A trade and technology agreement with China that reduces tensions in the South China Sea would be welcome. These scenarios exist. They require strategic coherence, diplomatic patience, and allied coordination that Trump has not yet demonstrated. But history is full of surprises.
I want to conclude this analysis with what might be called intellectual honesty: I don’t know what Trump is going to do. No one really knows—perhaps not even him. What I do know is that unpredictability in a system as interconnected and volatile as ours is not a strategic virtue. It is a systemic risk factor. And we deserve better than to just hope for the best.
Conclusion: The world deserves better than an amateur arsonist in the White House
The Consequences of a Flawed Worldview
At the end of this analysis, one conviction stands out—solid, well-documented, and painful to articulate without falling into doomsday scenarios: Trump’s renewed interest in military options does not make the world safer. It weakens it. It weakens the alliances that have maintained peace for 75 years. It weakens the imperfect but necessary multilateral institutions. It undermines the credibility of the U.S. deterrent—the only thing holding certain actors back from crossing red lines. And it undermines the trust of the peoples who rely on America, not as a benevolent power above all suspicion, but as a predictable and reliable partner in an unstable world.
This is not a matter of political party. It is not Republicans versus Democrats, or progressives versus conservatives. It is a matter of competence, rigor, and consistency in managing world affairs. These qualities are not the exclusive preserve of any one political faction. They do, however, require something that Trump has never truly demonstrated: the ability to accept the complexity of the world as it is, rather than reducing it to the simple categories of a real estate negotiation manual.
What History Will Remember
History is a ruthless judge. It does not remember speeches, promises, tweets, or declarations of intent. It remembers the consequences: wars that were started or averted; alliances that were maintained or fractured; crises that were managed or exacerbated. Lives saved or lost. When future historians examine this period—Trump’s return, his administration’s military fervor, the ongoing conflicts and those that may have been triggered—they will search for the guiding principle, the coherent vision, the strategy worthy of the name. They will struggle to find one. What they will find is improvisation elevated to the status of doctrine, deal-making disguised as strategy, and media-driven instincts mistaken for geopolitical vision. Such a record rarely ends well—neither for the presidents who bear responsibility for it nor for the people who suffer the consequences.
Signed, Jacques Pj Provost
Columnist’s Transparency Box
Editorial Stance
I am not a journalist, but a columnist and analyst. My expertise lies in observing and analyzing the geopolitical, economic, and strategic dynamics that shape our world. My work consists of dissecting political strategies, understanding global economic trends, contextualizing the decisions of international actors, and offering analytical perspectives on the transformations that are redefining our societies.
I do not claim to possess the cold objectivity of traditional journalism, which is limited to factual reporting. I strive for analytical clarity, rigorous interpretation, and a deep understanding of the complex issues that affect us all. My role is to make sense of the facts, place them within their historical and strategic context, and offer a critical analysis of events.
Methodology and Sources
This text respects the fundamental distinction between verified facts and interpretive analysis. The factual information presented comes exclusively from verifiable primary and secondary sources.
Primary sources: official communiqués from governments and international institutions, public statements by political leaders, reports from intergovernmental organizations, and dispatches from recognized international news agencies (Reuters, Associated Press, Agence France-Presse, Bloomberg News, Xinhua News Agency).
Secondary sources: specialized publications, internationally recognized news media, analyses from established research institutions, reports from sector-specific organizations (The Washington Post, The New York Times, Financial Times, The Economist, Foreign Affairs, Le Monde, The Guardian).
The statistical, economic, and geopolitical data cited come from official institutions: the International Energy Agency (IEA), the World Trade Organization (WTO), the International Monetary Fund (IMF), the World Bank, and national statistical agencies.
Nature of the Analysis
The analyses, interpretations, and perspectives presented in the analytical sections of this article constitute a critical and contextual synthesis based on available information, observed trends, and expert commentary cited in the sources consulted.
My role is to interpret these facts, contextualize them within the framework of contemporary geopolitical and economic dynamics, and give them coherent meaning within the broader narrative of the transformations shaping our era. These analyses reflect expertise developed through continuous observation of international affairs and an understanding of the strategic mechanisms that drive global actors.
Any subsequent developments in the situation could, of course, alter the perspectives presented here. This article will be updated if major new official information is released, thereby ensuring the relevance and timeliness of the analysis provided.
Sources
Primary Sources
Financial Times — Trump’s new interest in war will end badly — 2025
NATO — Washington Summit Communiqué, Collective Commitment of the Allies — July 2024
International Atomic Energy Agency — Report on Iran’s Nuclear Program — 2025
White House — Official statements and briefings from the Trump administration — 2025
Secondary Sources
Foreign Affairs — Trump’s Second-Term Foreign Policy: Risks and Opportunities — January 2025
The Economist — Trump and Military Power: A Dangerous Fascination — February 2025
Le Monde — Trump and Ukraine: The Risk of a Forced Peace — February 2025
This content was created with the help of AI.