Goldstone’s most recent book is "On Account of Race: The Supreme Court, White Supremacy, and the Ravaging of African American Voting Rights."
Out of the carnage and horror of Ukraine’s stunningly brave attempt to preserve its democracy may come the opportunity to help us regain ours.
Any complacency or relief that people or governments may have felt in emerging from the Covid pandemic — if it is in fact ending — was shattered when Russian troops crossed into Ukraine. Comparisons with August 1914 and September 1939 abounded and within days a new world crisis had replaced the old. Images of death from a dread disease were supplanted by images of death from nuclear weapons or an atmosphere poisoned by atomic fallout.
As a result, the blatant violation of a peaceful nation’s borders, coupled with the ineptitude of Russian ground forces and Vladimir Putin’s embrace of thuggish brutality have forced much of the world to reconsider not only foreign policy but the manner in which domestic affairs are conducted as well. If nothing else, as Russian troops were killed by the hundreds or perhaps thousands, sent to their deaths to stoke Putin’s bloated ego, autocracy lost much of its allure and democracy, which had been increasingly derided as weak and ineffective, has received a new birth of support.
But the impact, especially for the United States, may well run deeper. As a result of a reevaluation of what constitutes the national interest, the extremes of both the left and the right have been put on the defensive and there is now a genuine opening for reasonable debate on the very real issues that face the nation. Many on the moderate right may be willing to rethink their attraction to the blustering, faux macho leadership style of Donald Trump, while many on the moderate left may be persuaded that security is not increased by removing the means of enforcement.
The security issue cuts both ways. On the far right, military alliances such as NATO were seen as “bad deals,” wherein America was footing the bill for protecting Europe while getting little in return. Some believe Putin delayed invading Ukraine to see if Trump would have pulled the United States out of NATO had he won a second term, leading to its collapse and leaving Russia an open field for expansion. The left, on the other hand, wanted to gut the military budget and spend the money on social programs. A domestic corollary was the “Defund the Police” movement, which would similarly redirect funds, especially in cities.
What Ukraine has made clear, however, is that the United States needs both military alliances and the means to back up the threat of force. One can — and should — decry the necessity of developing new methods to kill and training men and women to do it, but in a world where a Vladimir Putin can pop up at any moment, there is little alternative.
In addition, in the same way as underfunding the military leaves the most vulnerable nations at the mercy of murderers such as Putin, underfunding the police leaves the most vulnerable citizens at the mercy of murderers who may live down the street. Those who propose to do away with the police need to recognize that removing security forces removes security right along with it.
The woeful performance of Russian ground forces, however, points up the consequences of deploying a security force that is not up to the task, as well as demonstrating that the most likely tactic of the armed but ill-prepared is the indiscriminate use of force. This is true both on the battlefield and on city streets.
The solution, then, is not to eliminate security forces, but to do what is necessary to make them well-trained and professional. Ukraine will engender spirited debate in Congress on military preparedness and it is an opportunity for those on both sides to eschew facile, partisan solutions and instead focus on both ensuring an elite fighting force and eliminating unnecessary spending on outmoded weapons and training. One only need watch Russian troops sink into a morass to see the wisdom of, to the greatest degree possible, getting politics out of national defense. (To the greatest degree possible, of course, may not be to a great degree at all, but that should not deter our elected representatives from trying.)
What is true for the military is also true for the police. Both Congress and state legislatures can move to guarantee that police officers are well trained and well paid, with standards of behavior that will allow them to effectively serve those whom they are entrusted to protect. Upgrading police forces cannot be achieved by strokes of the pen, but a commitment to recognize the real problems with current law enforcement and beginning to move toward solutions will be a good start.
Another area of reevaluation is trade, and how reliant the United States will be on foreign goods, even if they are cheaper than those produced domestically. At first glance, it might appear that protection for the environment will be a casualty of the push for energy independence, with domestic fossil fuel exploration and extraction becoming a national security priority. In the short term that might be true, but energy independence need not preclude a national effort to promote and install clean energy technologies — in fact, it would seem a necessity, since fossil fuel sources are finite and wind, solar, and geothermal power is unlimited.
If the United States is to make progress in these and other areas, effective, responsible leadership is a prerequisite. War imposes unique responsibilities on national leaders and how they discharge those responsibilities quite correctly comes under extreme scrutiny. Less often scrutinized, however, are the responsibilities of those in opposition — but they may well determine whether a nation will weather the crisis successfully. In some cases, the opposition must sublimate its misgivings to the national interest, as during the Civil War or World War II, and in some cases must aggressively maintain them, as with Vietnam and Iraq. In either case, however, the motive should be what is best for the nation, not simply what is best for their party or faction.
In practical terms, of course, opposition leaders often sublimate national interest for opportunism. The far right’s insistence on portraying President Biden as weak or senile — charges for which there is no evidence — will hardly make the United States more effective in deterring Putin. But practicality can promote change. If, for example, Rep. Liz Cheney and Georgia Gov. Brian Kemp win big over their Trump-backed opponents in their respective primaries, Republicans might reconsider their refusal to compromise. Similarly, if “woke” candidates fair poorly, Democrats may find centrist solutions both workable and advisable.
The Ukrainians’ willingness to pay a terrible price to maintain their freedom clearly demonstrates the power of national will. Perhaps they can help us to rediscover ours.



















A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.