Davies is a podcast consultant, host and solutions journalist at daviescontent.com.
The sudden change in mood probably came as a complete surprise to the worldwide audience watching the Grammys. Right in the middle of Sunday night’s musical performances and glitzy celebrations, a bearded wartime leader, dressed in an everyman olive-green T-shirt, made a brief yet solemn plea for the lives of his people.
“Our musicians wear body armor instead of tuxedos. They sing to our wounded in hospitals,” said Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelensky. “Support us in any way you can, but not silence. … And then peace will come.”
It was a passionate, profound message — as were Zelensky’s other recent video-taped statements to Congress, the European Parliament and the U.K. Parliament. At the Grammys, his stark words of controlled rage against Russia’s invasion almost seem to tumble out of him.
The moment also provided a powerful new definition of what it means to be pitch perfect. The former TV actor and comedian turned politician certainly understands the visual impact of his chosen medium.
“The T-shirt is a reminder of Mr. Zelensky’s origins as a regular guy; a connection between him and the citizen-soldiers fighting on the streets; a sign he shares their hardship,” wrote New York Times fashion critic Vanessa Friedman last month. He could have chosen to wear a business suit. “That Mr. Zelensky chose instead to adopt what may be the single most accessible garment around — the T-shirt — is as clear a statement of solidarity with his people as any of his rhetoric.”
The brevity of the language makes Zelensky’s messages all the more powerful, and his brave decision to remain in Kyiv, a city still under Russian bombardment, is another reason why he is so widely admired.
“In a matter of weeks, Ukrainian President Zelensky has become a beacon to the world, a wartime leader rallying his country, a symbol of courage in the face of personal danger, a politician who has shown anew the power of words and language,” wrote veteran political writer Dan Balz.
Direct comparisons have been made to Winston Churchill, who used the medium of radio and speeches in the House of Commons to rally the British people during the dark days of June 1940, when a German Nazi invasion was a distinct threat.
“We shall fight on beaches, landing grounds, in fields, in streets and on the hills. We shall never surrender,” Prime Minister Churchill said then. In his address last month to the British Parliament, Zelensky echoed that famous speech.
“We shall fight in the woods, in the fields, on the beaches, in the cities and villages, in the streets. We shall fight in the hills … on the banks of the Kalmius and the Dnieper. And we shall not surrender,” he said. In a break with tradition, the Ukrainian president was given a long standing ovation by British lawmakers.
All of this drama comes at a trying time for democracy around the world, when autocratic leaders have become more outspoken in their dismissal of systems that protect free expression and value individual liberties. Zelensky’s well-chosen words at the Grammys were another powerful reminder of what’s at stake not only for his embattled nation, but for those in many other nations who need encouragement as they defend democratic values they hold dear.
Richard Davies is a journalist, podcast consultant and host at daviescontent.com.
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.