Donald Trump has entered what some are calling his “World Cup era”—a phase defined by big plays, executive muscle, and relentless spectacle. But this week, the spectacle didn’t always go as planned.
Trump’s signature move—a threat to hike auto tariffs and squeeze global trade—dominated headlines, promising to boost American manufacturing at the expense of international partners. Behind the scenes, his historic rupture of a Columbia River treaty with Pacific Northwest tribes stunned regional leaders and indigenous nations alike, triggering a wave of legal and political blowback.
Meanwhile, the real drama was unfolding overseas. When Israel launched its long-threatened strikes on Iran, all eyes were on whether Trump had orchestrated—or merely observed—the escalation. White House aides scrambled to clarify that the US administration was aware, but not directly involved in Netanyahu’s timing, a narrative echoed in the Financial Times and Reuters. For once, Trump—so often the protagonist—was relegated to the supporting cast in Netanyahu’s war room.
At home, the president returned to what he knows best: brute force. He ordered active-duty troops to Los Angeles to suppress civil unrest, invoking rarely used legal powers and testing the limits of domestic military deployment. Critics called it authoritarian overreach; the White House called it “restoring order.” For the Trump era, the distinction barely matters.
The world is now learning that Trump’s playbook—raise tariffs, break deals, deploy troops—works until someone else grabs the headline. As CNN and Sky News reported, Netanyahu’s Iran gamble left the US president racing to reclaim relevance, even as his “World Cup” ambitions collided with the reality that, in the strongman league, there’s always someone willing to kick the ball further.