Antonio Navalón
I don’t know how tired you are of reading, writing, or hearing about Donald Trump, dear reader. I must confess, I am deeply weary of the disproportionate place that the former New York real estate speculator has come to occupy in contemporary history. But it is impossible to avoid him. Trump does not govern like a conventional head of State, but rather like a man who would like to place himself above institutions, the balance of powers, and even the very limits still imposed on him by the American system. He does not act like a traditional Republican president, but like someone intoxicated by the idea of unchecked personal power, as if democracy were merely an annoying formality standing between him and his will.
If he found a way to render the November elections meaningless, or to turn an electoral victory into a license to run roughshod over everything, he would do so. That is the place he occupies today in world history: that of a figure who does not administer a democracy, but pushes it to its breaking point. And when the most powerful democracy on the planet is pushed to the limit, it is not just Washington that trembles… the entire world trembles.
The United States, with nearly 350 million inhabitants, faces a disturbing reality. According to data from the International Organization Small Arms Survey, there are nearly 393 million firearms in the hands of U.S. civilians. That is more than one gun for every inhabitant of the country of the Stars and Stripes. The combination of political polarization, social fear, racial resentment, and massive private gun ownership is not characteristic of a stable democracy, but rather a ticking time bomb.
That an African American continues to die at the hands of police brutality remains an intolerable tragedy and, worse still, a wound that the United States refuses to heal. More than fourteen years have passed since the death of Trayvon Martin, whose case led to the birth of Black Lives Matter in 2013, and nearly six years since the murder of George Floyd. Yet the underlying problem persists. Names change, faces change, official narratives change, but the fracture remains.
The death of a Latin or Mexican migrant amidst the political and cultural machinery that criminalizes immigration reveals another equally deep fracture. The miserable “justification”? That this was the risk of pursuing the American dream and longing to walk the streets of Times Square. But what is most serious is that Trumpism has turned exclusion into a method of governance and has made dehumanization an instrument of political cohesion. Its aspiration is not the coexistence of a pluralistic society, but the symbolic restoration of a hierarchical, Aryan, and obedient nation, where anything that sounds different, comes from outside, or challenges the identity he idealizes is deemed suspicious.
Reality, however, is stronger than fantasy. The United States is not, nor can it ever again be, the homogeneous and pure country that Trump imagines. It is a nation that has been irreversibly shaped by migration since its origins, deeply diverse and interdependent, and sustained by millions of Spanish speakers—first-, second-, third-, or fifth-generation migrants and workers—who form a structural part of its economy, daily life, and true identity. Trump may exploit fear, but he cannot reverse the demographic, social, and economic reality of his country.
Meanwhile, he has ended up embroiled in a war whose strategic dimensions he seems to have underestimated. And he will not emerge from that war easily. Every time an American fills up their gas tank and sees the price increase, they understand in very concrete terms that the foreign adventure also comes at a cost at home.
The United States does not need to go out desperately searching for more oil, even though the global market remains extremely sensitive to any serious disruption in the Middle East. Nor should we forget the close relationship Washington has cultivated with Mohammed bin Salman. Saudi Arabia remains, according to OPEC, the country with the second-largest proven crude oil reserves in the world, trailing only Venezuela. But it is one thing to have oil allies and quite another to believe that one can unleash a war in a key region without paying global consequences. That has always been the imperial self-deception: thinking that military might neutralizes the laws of economics. It does not.
One of the most uncomfortable lessons of this moment is that you cannot defeat an army whose first willingness is to lose its own lives, and for whom this fate is an acceptable part of their political and religious horizon. And that component—that of fanaticism and the radicalization of the conflict—is what makes this holy war even more dangerous.
Many Americans wanted to feel proud of being American again and bought into the promise that respect, order, and prosperity would return. Today, they face a different reality: they pay more, live worse, and watch as entire sectors of their economy suffer from the lack of migrant labor that for years sustained entire industries. They are also discovering that, despite the promise to end wars, their country is increasingly embroiled in conflicts they do not fully understand, from which they do not know exactly what they stand to gain, and whose material costs are already weighing on the daily lives of millions of people.
Therein lies one of Trump’s great contradictions. He presented himself as the man who would end wars, restore national strength, and shield the United States from the world’s chaos. But his presidency once again proves the opposite: he has neither brought peace abroad nor order at home. He has raised the cost of living for his citizens, deepened internal divisions, and returned his country to the center of a spiral of conflict that he promised to contain.
Last Wednesday, just as a glimmer of hope seemed to appear on the horizon, Iran rejected the U.S. ceasefire proposal pushed by Donald Trump. The new Iranian regime, led by Ayatollah Mojtaba Khamenei, responded with a counterproposal of its own, which included demands such as war reparations, guarantees against future aggression, and the affirmation of its sovereignty over the Strait of Hormuz.
So, what will happen? No one knows for sure. But one thing is clear: even if the war with Iran were to end soon, the damage has already been done. Even assuming the goal was to prevent an Iranian nuclear scenario, the disruption to the international system goes far beyond that point. Military, energy, economic, and diplomatic balances have shifted in a way that a simple truce declaration cannot correct.
The most worrying aspect of this war is what it truly reveals—what lies behind the headlines. At the end of the day, despite the narrative of a peacemaker and a leader whom supposedly no one can oppose, what we see is a Trump who is deeply conditioned and, in many ways, manipulated by circumstances. This is, in essence, a war between Israel and Iran, backed by the United States, while Russia and China watch with great caution, weighing timing and costs without getting directly involved. At a distance but not off the board, actors like Pakistan and India also play roles in a broader regional balance, though not always visible, that influences the dynamics of the conflict.
The energy factor matters, but it doesn’t explain everything. The 1973–1974 oil crisis made it clear that the West can be vulnerable when oil is used as a political weapon, and that lesson remains relevant today. It is true that today the United States produces more and depends less on foreign sources than it did then, but that does not mean it can move the global market without paying a price. Just look at what happens every time tensions rise in the Strait of Hormuz: gasoline and transportation prices rise, supply chains come under pressure, and inflation gains ground.
Domestically, the tensions are just as clear. Immigration policies, particularly actions carried out through ICE, have deepened the climate of pressure, fear, and polarization, while the strain on people’s wallets is becoming a politically explosive issue ahead of the elections. In this context, Trump has shown no ability to deliver on his promises. The gap between his rhetoric and the results continues to widen, and with it, his room to maneuver narrows. That is why the situation is becoming increasingly troubling: for him, the only way out is not to lose the November election; for his opponents, both inside and outside the United States, the only solution is precisely the opposite…that he loses it.
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