Richard Davies is a journalist and podcaster. He runs the podcast consultancy, DaviesContent.
By any measure, this has been a momentous week for global politics. President Biden’s surprise trip to Kyiv, his “freedom” speech in Warsaw, the visit of China’s top diplomat to Moscow, and Vladimir Putin’s decision to suspend Russian participation in the last remaining nuclear arms treaty with the U.S. are all signs of deepening big-power tensions.
This coincides with the first anniversary of the bloodiest conflict in Europe since World War Two. In the early hours of February 24 last year, Putin’s tanks rolled across Ukraine’s borders.
To the surprise of many, the past year saw a dramatic strengthening of the NATO military alliance, as Europe and The United States rallied support for Ukraine. At the same time, the world’s two largest autocratic powers— China and Russia— moved ever closer together in a partnership that stirs reminders of the Cold War. Both regimes seek to dominate as much of the world as they can.
In his state-of-the-union style address, Putin blamed the U.S and its allies for a war that he launched himself. “The West,” he claimed, “is using Ukraine as a battering ram against Russia." Despite extremely heavy troop losses, Putin’s ultimate goal of dominating Ukraine and forcing it to become part of his Russian empire remains unchanged.
In Warsaw this week, Biden’s stark rhetoric harkened back to an earlier time, at least four decades ago, when American presidents often spoke of the epic struggle between dictatorships and democracy. “Appetites of the autocrat cannot be appeased. They must be opposed,” he declared. “The work in front of us is not just what we’re against but what we’re for….There is no higher aspiration than freedom.”
Biden promised $550 million in addition to $30 billion in military and humanitarian aid already sent to Ukraine. The Administration has reasserted itself as the dominant player in the security of Europe. Now NATO has a clearer mission statement.
While much has been written about the war, and the political state-of-play, the President’s trip has broader implications for the fundamental values that are a vital part of the growing struggle against autocratic powers.
“You can’t have democracy and freedom if you are not also willing to defend your national sovereignty against an armed invasion,” says Danish human-rights advocate, Jacob Mchangama. “These principles and fundamental values do require something that maybe has been forgotten in Europe: a willingness to defend against invasion.”
I spoke with Mchangama for the latest episode of our podcast, “ How Do We Fix It? ” His recent history of free speech makes him well-qualified to speak of the deeper issues at stake.
One of the biggest surprises of the past year has been the strength of European and American support for President Zelenskyy and Ukraine. “I’m very heartened by it,” says Mchangama. “It’s a good antidote to a decay of the West and complacency of democracies narrative that has been driving some of the authoritarian backlash.”
“Even a year in, there still seems to be solid support in many countries for the Ukrainian cause and for continuing to supply them with the means to defend themselves and hopefully decisively turn the tide.”
Many supporters of Ukraine say they are fighting for us, and the values of freedom of expression and rule of law. What remains unclear is whether the return to cold war rhetoric by President Biden and other leaders will have a positive impact on American democracy and reduce the damage inflicted by the domestic partisan divide.
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.