Trump lit the match. Now the world's paying the price

Donald Trump launched his war in Iran on 28 February with the usual bluster and strongman swagger. There was the talk of annihilation, ultimatums and overwhelming force. Now less than four weeks later, the region is still burning, thousands of people are dead, the global economy is taking a hit, and ordinary people far from the battlefield are paying the price.

Middle Eastern cities are being bombarded. More than 2,000 people have reportedly been killed since the conflict began. The Strait of Hormuz, one of the most important chokepoints in the global energy system, has been severely disrupted. Iran has threatened to close it completely if Trump follows through on new threats to strike Iranian energy infrastructure. This isn't some a realty TV show. It's a live and dangerous geopolitical crisis with human, economic and strategic consequences.

Oil prices have surged. Reuters reported Brent crude trading around US$112 a barrel, up roughly 55 percent for the month. Jet fuel prices have spiked even more dramatically. Markets across Asia have fallen, inflation fears are back, and the cost of energy is now feeding straight into household budgets, freight costs and airline operations. Anyone filling up their car, buying groceries, or paying for anything that relies on transport is feeling it. Battlers always cop the bill when reckless men start wars.

And what's Trump been doing while all this unfolds? Playing golf and acting like Trump. In a meeting with Japan’s prime minister, he made a joke about Pearl Harbor, asking, “Who knows better about surprise than Japan?” It was crass, offensive and historically grotesque. At the same time, he's been pressuring allies to step in to secure shipping and clean up the mess in Hormuz, despite having spent months insulting those same allies and treating long-standing partnerships with contempt.

Europe’s response has been telling. Reuters summed it up in four words: “Not our war.” Key European leaders have made clear they don't intend to join a campaign they were not consulted on, do not control, and don't trust. Even where there is support for maritime security, it's being framed around de-escalation, civilian protection and international law, not blind obedience to Trumpian chaos. That should tell Australia something. When even Washington’s traditional partners are recoiling, perhaps it is time we stopped pretending this kind of politics represents strength or leadership.

This is the part Trump fans and Pauline Hanson admirers in Australia never seem to grasp. These people are not champoins of the working class. They're not for battlers. They're for themselves. For their own brand, their own ego, their own grievances and their own political theatre. They sell anger as authenticity and chaos as courage. But when the consequences arrive, it's ordinary people like us who pay. At the bowser. At the supermarket. In disrupted travel. In heightened insecurity. In a world made more dangerous by the vanity of people who think foreign policy is a game show.

There would be something darkly comic about all this if it weren't so serious. A man who spent months trash-talking allies is now demanding their help. A man who postures as a master strategist has helped set fire to a region and destabilise the global economy. And a movement that claims to speak for forgotten people is once again proving that it's perfectly happy to make those people poorer, less secure and more anxious, so long as the culture wars keep rolling.

That's not strength. It's not realism. And it's not leadership. It's narcissism with missiles.

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/d3c6c2_62cc72e6db36432aa7236d75cfe4a78b/480p/mp4/file.mp4

Gregory Andrews discusses the chaos Trump is causing.