The Trump Presidency Is Going Great

Pete Hegseth went to Congress to ask for a casual $1.5 trillion war budget and somehow discovered that the real threat to America isn’t Iran, or a spiraling US-Israel war, or even the $25 billion already burned through in two months – it’s members of Congress who say out loud that this looks like a quagmire. The defense secretary told the House armed services committee that the "biggest adversary" the US faces is the "reckless, feckless and defeatist" rhetoric of Democrats (and a few Republicans), because nothing says "robust democracy" like declaring domestic critics more dangerous than the country you’re bombing.

Two months into a war Trump promised would last four to six weeks, Hegseth is now calling it an "existential fight" and proudly invoking Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan as the gold standard of staying too long in unwinnable conflicts. When Rep. John Garamendi dared to use the word "quagmire" and mention the "astounding incompetence" that produced yet another Middle East disaster, Hegseth lost it and accused him of handing propaganda to the enemy. Meanwhile, Trump is posting AI-generated Rambo fanfic of himself with the caption "NO MORE MR. NICE GUY" and threatening an open-ended naval blockade, because nothing reassures the world like a septuagenarian dictator cosplayer with a meme folder and a carrier group.

On the money front, Pentagon CFO Jules Hurst III revealed the meter is already at an estimated $25 billion – mostly munitions and replacing equipment, i.e., great news for defense contractors and absolutely no one else. Hegseth and Republican chair Mike Rogers framed the 50–60% budget increase as simply "the true cost of American deterrence" and sweetened it with a "historic" 7% pay bump for the lowest enlisted, the traditional move where you tape a small raise to a giant check for Raytheon and call it patriotism. Ranking Democrat Adam Smith, not yet fully absorbed into the Forever War cult, asked whether this tidal wave of cash will be squandered and why the US is diplomatically isolated while Trump is busy insulting allies’ leaders and their spouses mid-conflict.

Then there’s the part where a US strike hit a school in Minab, killing at least 168 people, most of them children. Two months later, Hegseth is finally under oath and the best the administration can manage is: "We made a mistake and that happens in war," followed by complete radio silence that, as Smith noted, made it look like the US "just don’t care." When Hegseth bragged that Iran’s nuclear facilities had been "obliterated," Smith pointed out that if the threat was "imminent" and now it’s gone but Iran still hasn’t abandoned its ambitions, then Operation Midnight Hammer accomplished precisely nothing – aside from dead kids, billions burned, and another open-ended war the White House is very proud of.

The Trump White House has apparently decided that if you can’t win a war or an argument with the Pope, you can at least try to rearrange the World Cup like it’s a Mar-a-Lago seating chart. Trump’s special envoy Paolo Zampolli proudly confirmed he suggested to both Trump and FIFA president Gianni Infantino that Iran be booted from the World Cup so Italy—who failed to qualify for the third straight time—can be parachuted in because, hey, four historical titles totally beat actually qualifying.

This diplomatic masterstroke is reportedly part of an effort to patch things up between Trump and Italy’s far-right prime minister Giorgia Meloni, after Trump picked a fight with Pope Leo XIV over the Iran war. So U.S. foreign policy has now reached the "what if we bribe your government with a World Cup slot" stage. Iran, which did qualify, says it’s ready to participate, but is waiting on FIFA’s answer about moving games from the U.S. to Mexico—presumably a less chaotic jurisdiction than whatever the Trump administration is doing today.

FIFA, the Italian federation, and Iran’s federation all declined to comment, possibly because even FIFA—an organization that treats corruption like a team sport—understands that rewriting tournament qualification to help Trump fix a personal feud with Giorgia Meloni might be a tad on the nose. But the message is clear: under Trump, the U.S. doesn’t just strong-arm allies with tariffs and sanctions anymore. Now it’s trying to trade in World Cup berths like they’re NFTs in a dying crypto market.

The EU has finally noticed that Benjamin Netanyahu treats their sternly worded letters like spam emails from a fake prince, and that maybe, just maybe, a government waging a "spectacularly reckless and illegal" war with U.S. help isn’t going to be shamed into decency over coffee and photo ops. Ursula von der Leyen has already called Gaza’s situation a "man-made famine," Brussels has denounced illegal settlements and settler violence, and Kaja Kallas has said Israel’s right to self-defense doesn’t cover leveling Lebanon. Netanyahu’s response? The diplomatic equivalent of muting the group chat.

The twist is that Europe actually holds the money hose: the EU is Israel’s biggest trading partner, and Horizon research ties are worth more than all the hasbara talking points in the world. But internal EU disunity and a touching faith in the power of polite disappointment have meant zero consequences while Trump and Netanyahu run a maximalist regional project that treats the two-state solution like a bad joke from the 1990s.

Now the ground is shifting, mostly because reality finally kicked down the door. Orbán’s election humiliation removes Netanyahu’s favorite far-right human veto from the EU table, reopening the prospect of sanctions on violent West Bank settlers. Spain is openly pushing to suspend the EU-Israel association agreement over human rights violations, and even Giorgia Meloni — former fan-club president for illiberal strongmen — has paused a defense pact with Israel after Lebanon’s civilian death toll. When Meloni’s backing away from you, you’re not just off the rails, you’ve left the train, track, and continent.

As the US-Israel Iran adventure blows back into Europe’s economy, Brussels is being forced to consider something radical: using its enormous economic and academic leverage for more than symbolic wrist-slaps. After years of being treated as a doormat by Netanyahu, with Trump cheering from the White House, the EU may finally be inching toward consequences instead of condolences. If so, it’s about a decade late — but still marginally better than letting Washington and Jerusalem drive the region (and international law) straight off a cliff without even honking.

The Trump administration’s idea of "peace talks" continues to be: send negotiators to Pakistan while the president liveblogs war crimes on Truth Social. As U.S. forces enforce a sweeping blockade of Iranian ports and help shut down the Strait of Hormuz — through which about 20% of the world’s oil normally moves — Trump bragged that Iran is losing "$500 Million Dollars a day" while the U.S. "loses nothing." Aside from, you know, global stability, maritime safety, and the concept of international law.

Not content with the blockade and a "precarious ceasefire" that expires Wednesday, Trump threatened that if Iran doesn’t accept his "very fair and reasonable DEAL," the United States will "knock out every single Power Plant, and every single Bridge, in Iran. NO MORE MR. NICE GUY!" Because nothing says responsible statesman like openly promising to target civilian infrastructure — on your own social network. Meanwhile, Indian-flagged ships are being shot at, tens of thousands of seafarers are trapped on vessels in the Gulf, and Iran vows to keep the Strait closed until the war ends. The administration calls this a path to peace; everyone stuck in the world’s most important oil chokepoint might describe it more as hostage diplomacy with cruise missiles.

The White House is asking Congress for a casual $1.5 trillion for the Pentagon, with a separate "don’t worry about it" tab coming for the Iran war. Because if there’s one thing this government hates, it’s universal healthcare — and if there’s one thing it absolutely loves, it’s writing blank checks for forever wars and defense contractors who treat the federal budget like their personal ATM.

Lawmakers, who have spent decades rubber-stamping defense bills they didn’t read, are now bravely demanding “more transparency” about where the money is going. Bold stuff from the same institution that turns every conflict into a bipartisan jobs program for Lockheed Martin. So we’ll get a few hearings, some sternly worded questions, and then, once everyone has finished pretending to be shocked by the price tag, the war machine will get fed and Americans will be told there’s just no funding available for things that don’t explode.

Britain is apparently still role‑playing as Robin to America’s Batman, except Batman is now Donald Trump and he keeps threatening to sell Greenland like it’s a Trump golf course with better ice. Former NATO chief George Robertson is shrieking about a £28bn "black hole" in UK defence spending, because the country might not be shovelling enough money into a force structure designed less to defend Britain and more to be the premium DLC pack for the US war machine.

The whole setup, as the editorial politely notes, means only about 15–20% of UK defence spending is actually about defending the UK. The rest is essentially a subscription to the American empire bundle: US‑controlled nuclear weapons, F‑35s that might as well ship with a "Made for Lockheed" watermark, and a posture built around NATO nuclear sharing where Trump treats alliance commitments like overdue casino markers. Britain doesn’t get technological control, just the privilege of being an extra in Washington’s war cosplay.

Whitehall’s big brain move is to promise more defence money… someday in the 2030s, while Trump is busy casually undermining international law and U‑turning on things like the Chagos deal. Meanwhile, the UK is reshaping its military around a US‑style "defence as venture capital" tech ecosystem, because nothing says "national security" like turning war into a start‑up pitch deck. The Guardian ends on the only real question that matters: with Trump back in office, whose security is Britain actually funding – its own, or the whims of an unstable reality‑TV autocrat with the nuclear football on speed dial?