World

If I had a penny for every time I have been told that Russian president Vladimir Putin only wants respect. Or that he is only interested in eastern Ukraine. Or that if Kyiv is only denied NATO membership, then he will call off the tanks. Well, in the last seven days President Donald Trump has given Putin all this and more. And, though it is still early days, so far the war is showing no sign of slowing. And what has the man who wrote The Art of the Deal asked for in exchange for all this diplomatic largesse? Absolutely nothing. In fact, the only substantive demand Trump has made so far is of the Ukrainians. Last week Washington sent Treasury secretary Scott Bessent to Kyiv with an extraordinary demand.

President Donald Trump called Russian president Vladimir Putin yesterday and discussed various topics, including the war in Ukraine, for an hour and a half. According to Trump, the two agreed to begin negotiations on ending the three year-long conflict immediately and even set up preliminary talks about traveling to one another’s capitals. Shortly after the call with Putin, Trump dialed Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky for yet another conversation that reportedly went ”very well.” Trump’s call with Zelensky, of course, wasn’t the controversial part. Nobody had a problem with it. The dialogue with Putin, however, was apparently blasphemy, akin to violating all of the Ten Commandments on the same day.

“The Mexican drug-trafficking organizations have an intolerable alliance with the government of Mexico,” announced the White House last month, buried in the official statement on US tariffs on that country’s goods. The declaration has sent shockwaves through Mexico. If true — if the government of our southern neighbor acts in concert with, defends, condones and/or profits from the trafficking cartels that have killed hundreds of thousands of Americans and worked to destroy American sovereignty in recent years — then it is a seismic pronouncement that heralds a new era of confrontation between the two nations.

President Donald Trump posted an AI-picture of a gangster version of himself on Instagram at around 3 p.m. Sunday. Behind the fedora-clad figure, the text “FAFO” — short for “fuck around and find out” — appears alongside a smiling face.  What happened earlier that Sunday, and the machine-made picture that followed, tells us a lot about how Trump 2.0. will deal with the world.  After two planes carrying Colombian illegal aliens departed the United States this weekend, self-proclaimed humanist and former guerrilla fighter Gustavo Petro, Colombia’s president, refused to allow the plane to land. “I deny the entry of American planes carrying Colombian migrants into our territory,” Petro said on X.

New Year’s marked the twenty-fifth anniversary of the collective freakout known as Y2K, when overwrought tech aficionados joined forces with Luddites to warn the world of the pending apocalypse of computer infrastructure that could run the global economy but was evidently incapable of resetting to “00” in date codes. Those chiliastic projections obviously did not come to pass, which is why we can spend 2025 reflecting on the twenty-fifth anniversary of the day’s other Chicken Little situation — consternation over the transition that would, some skeptical parties feared, have catastrophic consequences for infrastructure central to the daily functioning of global markets, the final turnover of the Panama Canal.

A new presidential term is set to begin officially in Venezuela on January 10. Despite the electoral commission’s failure to release the results of the July 28 election, Nicolás Maduro’s swearing-in appears inevitable. Opposition leader Edmundo González Urrutia, however, says he’ll be inaugurated as the country’s new leader. Will he return to Caracas? That’s the question Venezuelans keep asking, with González Urrutia having promised exactly that. “I am going to return to Venezuela to take the responsibility that 8 million citizens gave me,” he told Infobae five days ago after meeting with Argentinian president Javier Milei. This week he also met with President Biden, Uruguayan president Lacalle Pou and Panamanian president José Raúl Mulino.

The United States only has one president at a time. Until January 20, that’s Joe Biden. But President-elect Donald Trump and his skeleton foreign policy team are waiting in the wings, plotting policy behind the scenes on issues — Ukraine, Gaza, Iran, Middle East peace — that have stymied the Biden administration for the last year. In fact, Trump is already influencing the respective calculations of allies, partners and adversaries before he even steps foot in the Oval Office. And Biden’s advisors seem perfectly fine with it. Trump fancies himself as a master negotiator, somebody who’s inherently skilled at poking, pressuring and sweet-talking the opposite side of the table until he gets what he wants.

I represented the United States at the sixth Youth and Democracy in the Americas Summit at the Organization of American States, or OAS, last month. Most Latin Americans know this organization well, though most here in the US don’t. It is the premier regional political forum, the region’s European Union, a sort of mini-UN. When tyrants steal elections and jail journalists, the OAS becomes the center of the spectacle.  It has a reputation for defending liberty. But when it comes to China, matters get murky. So much so that the organization is willing to censor American voices that tell the truth about China’s regional ambitions. The appointment of Florida senator Marco Rubio as secretary of state may augur a new era of US focus on its hemispheric neighbors.

By the summer of 2024, Kyivans could joke that there was no way the Russian army could take their city now — they’d never get through the downtown traffic. The simple normality of urban congestion, crawling through grand boulevards in the shadows of buildings that, with fresh coats of paint, would suggest a Wes Anderson vision of Mitteleuropa, could lull a visitor into thinking he could be in any capital on the old Orient Express route. So, too, would the world-class Fenix restaurant, run by a celebrity chef and festooned with Chihuly-inspired decor. It was between the salmon tartare eclair and the rabbit ravioli that I heard for the first time, face-to-face, what it’s like to be persecuted for worshipping God in the wrong way.