China

A bleached white conference room, somewhere near Jeddah in Saudi Arabia. On one side sits Volodymyr Zelensky, the Ukrainian leader, in his soldier-boy outfit. On the other, Russian President Vladimir Putin in dark suit and tie. And in the middle, a beaming President Donald J. Trump. "People said this could never happen," he says, as Zelensky and Putin stare awkwardly at the floor. "But it’s a beautiful thing." A White House memo lands in inboxes across the world: "THE PEACEMAKER-IN-CHIEF..." Pure fantasy, perhaps, but Trump does have an almost cosmic ability to get what he wants – and he really wants to end the war in Ukraine. Last night, having spent weeks telling the world how "disappointed" he was with Putin, Trump abruptly announced "great progress" in US-Russia dialogue.

On June 3 the Department of Justice announced charges against two nationals of the People’s Republic of China (PRC). The offenses ranged from conspiracy and false statements to visa fraud and smuggling. The final charge was the most concerning, as the item in question was a fungus called Fusarium graminearum. According to DOJ, this fungus is “a potential agroterrorism weapon” responsible for head blight, a disease that targets multiple crops from wheat and maize to barley and rice. It causes billions of dollars in economic losses worldwide each year, and its effects are pronounced: vomiting, liver damage, and reproductive disruptions in both humans and livestock. Welcome to the newest front in the Chinese Communist party’s (CCP) cold war against Americans.

On June 16, 2015, Donald Trump descended a golden escalator in Trump Tower and into political history. The press corps snickered. The consultant class rolled its eyes. Late-night comedians feasted on the spectacle. Most people thought it was a joke. What they missed – and still miss – is that Trump didn’t invent the anger that powered his campaign. He simply noticed it first. The pundits focused on Trump’s bombast. But voters were focused on something else entirely: someone, finally, was saying out loud what they’d been thinking for years. Take China. In 2015, Trump said, “They’re ripping us off.” It wasn’t elegant. But it was true.

American divisions over politics look positively civil compared to the polarization that has gripped South Korea over the last few years. During the 2022 elections, Yoon Suk-yeol of the conservative People Power party (PPP) narrowly won the presidency over his liberal opponent Lee Jae-myung from the Democratic Party by a razor thin 0.73 percent. But Yoon hastened the demise of his own presidency when on December 3, 2024, he made the poor decision to declare martial law over baseless accusations that the National Assembly’s progressive opposition were collaborating with North Korea. Martial law lasted for only a few hours after both parties unanimously voted to lift the decree.

When educated Americans think about war, they’re apt to think of it in ideological terms. Wars are fought between dictatorships and democracies and the goal is to establish one form of government or the other in the defeated opponent’s territory. That’s certainly been the way American policymakers have thought about the wars of this century and it was the framework during the Cold War as well, when the conflict was said to be, fundamentally, a clash of ideologies. The French Revolution is probably the source of this concept, as the wars it set off were indeed largely about regime change, if not that alone.

It was an emollient J.D. Vance who showed up at the Munich Leaders Meeting in Washington, DC. Gone was the Vance who dissed the Europeans in Munich on February 15 by complaining that they were practicing censorship of political views and who met with a representative of the far-right Alternative für Deutschland party. Gone was the Cerberus who barked at Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky on the Oval Office on February 24 that he had exhibited a dismaying lack of gratitude toward America for its assistance to his beleaguered nation. Gone was the Ohio senator who declared in July 2024 that he didn’t give a fig about Ukraine’s fate and was more interested in pursuing an Asia First policy.

Senator Josh Hawley of Missouri has been one of Donald Trump’s fiercest allies on Capitol Hill. But since his easy re-election last November, he’s also been someone within the Republican party who demanded public commitments from Trump’s nominees on several issues of importance to him – areas of concern that include the influence of big tech, the encroaching role of China and a promise on the part of nominees with little or no record on the abortion issue to support pro-life policies. Senator Hawley spoke to me on the 100th day of Trump’s second presidency about what he’s seeing on tariffs, foreign policy and China.

One hundred days into the second Donald Trump presidency, his presence in the Oval Office represents the largest sea change in US foreign relations since the end of the Cold War.  Within the space of fewer than four months, Trump has forced Ukraine to deal with reality, by delivering hard truths about what ending the war will require. He has deployed J.D. Vance to shock the international system, with tough messages to our allies in Europe and Asia. Trump’s declaration of a litany of cartels as foreign terror organizations has kicked off a redirection of our relationship with Mexico, Panama and the Western hemisphere. His close relationship with Israel, a clear break with Joe Biden’s approach, has shifted expectations for the Middle East.