Shock, surprises and suffering are the most immediate results of all wars. Russia's brutal, yet deeply flawed invasion of Ukraine has profound implications for the West, global democracy and the future of Europe and Russia. How do we Fix It shares the perspectives of two prominent thinkers, Jane Lytvynenko and Robert Kagen. Richard and Jim also share their analysis of the unexpected early outcomes of the war.
Listen now
President Donald Trump reacts as he speaks to the media while signing executive orders in the Oval Office of the White House on September 05, 2025 in Washington, DC.
In the theater of American politics, promises are political capital. Most politicians make promises cautiously, knowing that if they fail to fulfill them, they will be held accountable
But Donald Trump has rewritten the script. He repeatedly offers sweeping vows, yet the results often don't follow; somehow, he escapes the day of reckoning.
How can that be?
Examples are abundant. From pledging to end the war in Ukraine "before taking office" to claiming he alone could denuclearize North Korea. And what is particularly unique is that Trump's declarations are rarely modest. Yet for some inexplicable reason, when his outcomes fail or when summits stall, walls remain unfunded, or health care reform collapses, he magically pivots, reframes, or moves on.
Through 12 years of Donald Trump, the spectacle continues, uninterrupted and many of us drown unfulfilled promises. The outrage and emotional venting flood the media, but strategic analysis is what the moment demands.
First, let's face the facts. Trump's actions are not just political bravado. His actions are a strategic recalibration of how promises function in public life that the opposition has not fully come to terms with.
With respect to the political calculus, it is essential to understand that Trump's supporters often don't measure him by policy outcomes, but rather by his emotional resonance. Those who voted for him didn’t do so just to see him manage effectively; he's a symbol of defiance, dominance, and disruption and as such results sometimes fall by the wayside. In this frame, broken promises aren't failures; they're part of the process of fighting "the swamp."
Donald Trump is a cult figure and thus success is measured by different standards.
Additionally, Trump's understanding of media saturation plays to his advantage. Trump floods the daily news cycle with constant messaging, burying yesterday's unmet pledge under today's provocation. The news cycle rarely lingers long enough for sustained accountability. And in a fragmented media landscape, tribal loyalty often trumps factual scrutiny. This all plays into the chaos theory that I have previously written about in the Fulcrum.
The ultimate cost to our democratic republic remains to be seen. When symbolic politics eclipse substantive governance, public trust erodes. Ultimately will the electorate care? Traditional theory suggests that success in politics is dependent on fulfilling promises and that words matter, and leaders are accountable to them. If that expectation collapses, we risk replacing deliberation with performance and policy with personality.
Will this traditional theory of accountability collapse under the weight of Trump's theatre? For the short term, it has, but the long-term ability for Trump to avoid accountability remains unclear. Historically, Americans tend to separate charisma from competence and when they do they demand accountability.
Of course, I might be old-fashioned in my thinking, believing that honest politics matters. Yet it is my faith in the American people that gives me hope anchored by civic awareness, a diligent media, and just basic common sense.
Whether I am a blind optimist or a fool will be apparent within the next three and a half years.
David Nevins is the publisher of The Fulcrum and co-founder and board chairman of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.
Screenshot from a video moments before US forces struck a boat in international waters off Venezuela, September 2.
The Trump administration’s recent airstrike on a small vessel in the southern Caribbean—allegedly carrying narcotics and members of Venezuela’s Tren de Aragua gang—was not just a military maneuver. It was a signal. A signal that American imperialism, long cloaked in diplomacy and economic influence, is now being rebranded as counterterrorism and narcotics enforcement.
President Trump announced the strike with characteristic bravado, claiming the vessel was operated by “Tren de Aragua Narcoterrorists.”
Trump said on Truth Social: The strike occurred while the terrorists were at sea in International waters transporting illegal narcotics, heading to the United States. No U.S. Forces were harmed in this strike. Please let this serve as notice to anybody even thinking about bringing drugs into the United States of America. BEWARE!”
Eleven people were killed. No trial. No extradition. No independent verification. Just a grainy video and a declaration of guilt from 30,000 feet.
- YouTube www.youtube.com
Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth told Fox News, “This is a deadly serious mission for us, and it won’t stop with just this strike.” That statement should chill anyone who believes in proportionality, sovereignty, or the rule of law.
Let’s be clear: Tren de Aragua is a violent criminal organization. It has been linked to extortion, human trafficking, and regional instability. But according to InSight Crime, it is not a major player in international drug trafficking. And it is certainly not a transnational terrorist threat on par with ISIS or al-Qaeda.
So why the airstrike? Why the escalation?
Legal experts like Mark Nevitt, writing for Just Security, warn that labeling drug traffickers as terrorists could open the door to a new “forever war”—one where the U.S. president claims unchecked authority to kill civilians based on vague affiliations and unverified intelligence. “Applying a new label to an old problem does not transform the problem itself,” Nevitt writes. “Nor does it grant the U.S. president or the U.S. military expanded legal authority to kill civilians.”
This is not just about Venezuela. It’s about the precedent. It’s about the normalization of extrajudicial violence in the name of national security. It’s about the erosion of international norms and the reemergence of a foreign policy rooted in domination rather than diplomacy.
Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro called the strike “extravagant, unjustifiable, immoral, and absolutely criminal.” While Maduro’s own record on human rights is deeply troubling, his condemnation of the strike raises legitimate questions about sovereignty and the weaponization of U.S. power.
This is not the first time the U.S. has used Latin America as a proving ground for its military ambitions. From the Monroe Doctrine to the Cold War to the War on Drugs, the region has long been treated as a backyard—ripe for intervention, manipulation, and control.
But today’s imperialism is different. It’s not about boots on the ground. It’s about drones in the sky, algorithms in the war room, and narratives crafted to justify violence. It’s about redefining threats to fit political agendas and using military force to send messages rather than solve problems.
Mainstream media should not treat this strike as a one-off event. It is part of a pattern—a pattern of expanding executive power, eroding legal standards, and militarizing foreign policy under the guise of public safety.
We owe it to the public we serve to ask harder questions: Who decides who is a terrorist? What evidence is required before a missile is launched? And what happens when the line between law enforcement and warfare disappears altogether?
This is not just a story about a boat in the Caribbean. It’s a story about the future of American power—and whether we will continue to accept its most dangerous expressions without scrutiny or consequence.
Hugo Balta is the executive editor of the Fulcrum and the publisher of the Latino News Network.
An image depicting a distorted or shattered mirror reflecting a distorted version of the American flag or iconic American landmarks
It is common in non-Trump circles to describe Trump as an inveterate, congenital liar. Throughout his campaigns and his presidency, his distorted perspective on facts—or outright lies—have been the underpinning of his combative arguments, And his forceful, passionate statements, whether distortions or lies, have become the truth for his followers. All real news and truth is regarded as "fake." Such is the power of "the big lie."
There is no need to site examples; they are legion. Most recently, though, this was observed when he fired the Director of the Bureau of Labor Statistics, claiming that the numbers were fudged. He felt he knew what the right numbers were.
The other day, the thought came to me that maybe Trump wasn't "lying." To lie implies that you know the truth and are purposely falsifying information. I have a feeling that Trump lives in an alternate reality where the truth is as he sees it. Whether it's the results of the 2020 election, the description of illegal immigrants, or the recent labor statistics, he knows/senses what to him is the truth; that is his reality. And since he is king/dictator, he is infallible and cannot be wrong. Anyone who says otherwise is, if under his control, fired, if not under his control, attacked.
I will use as an example of the ubiquitousness of this alternate reality Trump's Executive Order, "Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History." This is classic Trump—claiming to restore the truth when in fact he is the one who is destroying the truth. And In this instance, he is supported in his alternate reality by far-right scholars (see my post, "The Far-Right's Biggest Lie"). To make my point, I will go through the first paragraph of the Order sentence by sentence.
1. "Over the past decade, Americans have witnessed a concerted and widespread effort to rewrite our Nation’s history, replacing objective facts with a distorted narrative driven by ideology rather than truth."
True, but ... there has indeed been an effort to rewrite our history, but it is Trump and MAGA adherents who, driven by ideology rather than the truth, have been trying to rewrite our history—whether in school textbooks or at national parks—to eliminate the unpleasant facts of our history.
And what are the objective facts of our history? The objective fact is that racism is part of our history and our present. The horror of slavery is a fact. It is a fact that our country, through military and other purposeful actions, nearly wiped out the Native American indigenous people. It is a fact that until 1920 women did not have the right to vote and they still have not achieved equality with their male peers. These are the facts Trump wants to deny.
2. "This revisionist movement seeks to undermine the remarkable achievements of the United States by casting its founding principles and historical milestones in a negative light. Under this historical revision, our Nation’s unparalleled legacy of advancing liberty, individual rights, and human happiness is reconstructed as inherently racist, sexist, oppressive, or otherwise irredeemably flawed."
But in fact, liberal scholars or textbook authors have not cast the achievements of this country, its founding principles, or its efforts to advance liberty, human rights, and happiness in a negative light. To say that America had and has problems—short-comings—in realizing its principle, does not demean them or America.
Noting or addressing these short-comings is also not an implication that America is "irredeemably flawed." Rather they are the result of our nation being a representative democracy and of our being, after all, human beings, with imperfections and failings. Liberals realize that the aspirations of the Declaration of Independence pictured a state of existence that no country in the world has to this day achieved. To say that America has not achieved that state is thus not to say that the country is flawed.
3. "Rather than fostering unity and a deeper understanding of our shared past, the widespread effort to rewrite history deepens societal divides and fosters a sense of national shame, disregarding the progress America has made and the ideals that continue to inspire millions around the globe."
Without question, societal divides have recently deepened. But not because of liberal efforts to acknowledge and address our country's problems; they have been doing this for decades, Likewise, there is nothing new in the fact that there are many in our country who still harbor feelings of racism and misogyny and act on those feelings
What is new is that a President has for the first time since WWII supported that part of our citizenry that rejects the right of all Americans to be equal in the sight of the law, as required by the 14th Amendment. It is Donald Trump who has deepened the divide and fostered a feeling of national shame.
The extent of racism still present in our country may be a source of sadness for many for whom the words of the Declaration of Independence have an almost spiritual power and for whom the goal of all people being treated with humanity is heart-felt. But that sadness does not denigrate or dispute the substantial progress that America has made nor deter us in our faith that one day Martin Luther King's dream will become reality..
As to America's ideals inspiring millions around the globe, while I believe that has been true throughout our history, despite our short-comings, under the current Trump administration, that beacon of light has been diminished (see my article,"America Is Losing Its Light").
Whether Trump's statements are knowing lies or a reflection of his alternate reality, the impact is the same. He and his followers are leading our country away from its history, away from its historic values, toward a self-centered perspective that fosters inhumanity and the disavowal that we—regardless of color, race, ethnicity, or sex—are all God's children, His creation, and so were created equal.
Unfortunately, Democrats have not focused the public's attention on all the untruths—lies—that Trump and his MAGA allies have used in influencing the public to adopt a distorted understanding of our founding principles as well as facts, whether of the everyday sort or scientific. This the Party must begin doing and do so in an organized manner—I have suggested a weekly Trump scorecard press conference (see my post, "Returning the Country to the People Scorecard")—so that the public has the information they need.
It is the Democratic Party's essential task to lead the country back to the future, to connect each and every American with the truth of our founding principles, and to show how, by implementing those principles through government policy, all Americans will be lifted up, regardless whether White or persons of color; male or female; rich, middle class, or poor; or other defining characteristic. (See my post, "Where Is the Democratic Party's Clarion Voice?")
Ronald L. Hirsch is a teacher, legal aid lawyer, survey researcher, nonprofit executive, consultant, composer, author, and volunteer. He is a graduate of Brown University and the University of Chicago Law School and the author of We Still Hold These Truths. Read more of his writing at www.PreservingAmericanValues.com
New York City Mayoral Candidate Zohran Mamdani speaks during a rally at Lou Gehrig Plaza on September 02, 2025 in the South Bronx in New York City.
Zohran Mamdani’s improbable rise—from barely registering in the polls to winning a primary against all odds—has been called a miracle. A Muslim, unapologetically left, and unafraid to speak plainly about the Gaza genocide, Mamdani triumphed despite doing everything the political establishment insists is disqualifying. Against every expectation, he closed a thirty-point gap and prevailed.
And yet, as the establishment begins to circle around him, many on the left who have supported his anti-establishment insurgency feel the familiar sting of suspicion. We remember how Sanders faltered, how Warren splintered the movement, how Obama cut deals that weakened the base, how AOC voted for financing Israel’s Iron Dome even in the context of an unfolding genocide. Each disappointment reinforces the conviction that betrayal is inevitable. And the truth is that it is inevitable—not because politicians are uniquely weak or uniquely corrupt but because of the way our politics is currently structured.
Every politician in our political system today is an individual actor with agency. That agency means choice, and choice means divergence. No matter how aligned a representative may be with our values, at some point, inevitably, they will cast a vote, strike a compromise, or make a calculation that cuts against what we wanted. We don’t forget those moments. We sear them into memory, and we label them betrayal. That is why bitterness has become the permanent backdrop of our politics. We live in a cycle of disappointment, not because individuals are especially flawed but because the system compels them to decide in our name and inevitably at times against our will.
This reality explains the cynicism that so pervades political life. We assume every handshake is a sellout, every meeting a concession, every alliance a slippery slope. Cynicism becomes the armor we wear to shield ourselves from disappointment. But in wearing it so tightly, we often turn it inward, sabotaging our own efforts before they can bear fruit. History is littered with examples of this pattern.
In 1968, after Lyndon Johnson stepped aside, the anti-war movement had a chance to consolidate around Eugene McCarthy or Robert Kennedy. Instead, activists tore into one another over ideological purity and strategy. By the time Kennedy was assassinated and the Democratic convention imploded in Chicago, the movement had fractured, handing Richard Nixon the presidency and prolonging the Vietnam War. Occupy Wall Street, too, began with clarity—“We are the 99%”—and electrified millions. But because it refused to channel that energy into lasting political structures, it splintered into debates and purity contests, made vulnerable to infiltration but undone mostly by its own refusal to resist suspicion and build resilience. Even the Sanders campaigns carry this lesson. In 2016 and again in 2020, parts of the left turned their fury not just against the party that rigged the process but against each other. That self-directed suspicion made retreat easier and defeat more certain.
The common thread is not simply betrayal by leaders but the inevitability of betrayal in a system built on agency. Every representative, no matter how sincere, will eventually diverge from the people they represent. When they do, we feel betrayed. When the betrayals accumulate, cynicism calcifies. And when cynicism dominates, movements collapse under the weight of their own mistrust.
But what if betrayal were no longer built into the system? What if votes in Congress were not the product of a single arbiter’s judgment but the direct reflection of citizen majorities? In such a system, a representative would not be an agent with discretion but a conduit. No calculation, no triangulation, no deal-making—only the tallying of where the people stand. The majority asserted its will, and that would be the end of the story. In such a system, the notion that one is betrayed by their representative because they cast a vote that was not to their liking would make no sense. The majority’s will was asserted, and that is the end of that. The representative had no say in the matter.
In other words, betrayal—in the sense we know it today—would simply vanish, because there would be nothing to betray. And with it, cynicism would dissolve too. The suspicion that shadows every alliance and every strategic decision would lose its grounding. If power were tethered directly to majorities, the old vocabulary of compromise and betrayal and backstabbing would be emptied of meaning. In such a politics, today’s cynicism would evaporate.
For now, of course, we do not live in such a world. Mamdani, like every politician, must still navigate terrain full of allies and adversaries, where betrayal remains not just possible but mathematically certain. That does not mean we abandon him or retreat into isolation. To refuse to engage with figures like Obama or Warren, or to close doors out of fear of contamination, would not be principled but paralysis. Power is never won by refusing to step onto the field. It is won by entering it with clear eyes, recognizing that betrayal is baked into the structure, and still pushing forward.
The task before us, then, is twofold. First, to tactically resist the temptation to sabotage ourselves with reflexive cynicism—to recognize that suspicion alone cannot be the foundation of a movement. Second, to keep alive the strategic vision of a politics beyond betrayal, where representatives no longer act as free agents but as direct reflections of the people they serve. That vision is not naïve. It is the only way to imagine a politics in which cycles of bitterness and disappointment do not consume us.
Ahmed Bouzid is the co-founder of The True Representation Movement.
