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Analysis
Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi (R) answers a question from Katsuya Okada of the Constitutional Democratic Party of Japan during a House of Representatives Budget Committee session in Tokyo on Nov. 7, 2025. At the time, Takaichi said a military attack on Taiwan could present a “survival-threatening situation” for Japan.
Tensions between Tokyo and Beijing hit a boiling point last Friday when China accused Japan’s Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi of “a grave violation of international law.” Her alleged crime? Statements that a Chinese attack or blockade of Taiwan could threaten Japan’s survival and be met with military intervention. The ensuing diplomatic crisis has not just upended relations between China and Japan, but threatens to ensnare the United States in a geopolitical showdown in the Pacific.
Why were Taikachi’s comments so incendiary? Takaichi used the phrase, “situation threatening Japan’s survival,” to describe potential Chinese aggression towards Taiwan. That’s a specific legal designation under Japan's 2015 security legislation that allows the prime minister to deploy the military in self-defense.
This breaks with Tokyo’s traditional ambiguity on the use of force in the case of invasion, and signals publicly that it would stand with Washington in a crisis – something China considers a direct challenge to its sovereignty. Article V of the US-Japan security treaty obliges the US to defend Japan if it is attacked.
What has China done in response? Beijing has suspended seafood imports, discouraged Chinese tourists from traveling to Japan, and allowed mass cancellations of flights and tours without penalty. Concerts by Japanese artists in China have been abruptly pulled from venues and cruise ships that once filled ports in Kyushu are now being rerouted to South Korea. The goal is to hit Japan where it hurts: tourism has helped boost the economy post-Covid, and many small cities rely heavily on Chinese visitors.
On the diplomatic front, Beijing sent a letter Friday to UN Secretary-General António Guterres urging Japan to “deeply reflect upon its historical crimes,” a reference to Japan’s invasion of China during World War II, and calling on Tokyo to “retract its erroneous remarks.” On Sunday, Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi posted a statement to the Chinese Foreign Ministry’s website that Japan’s leadership has “said things they shouldn’t have said, and crossed a red line that should not have been touched.”
How is Japan reacting? Tokyo is not taking back Takaishi’s words, saying instead that Beijing is misinterpreting them. According to senior Japanese government spokeswoman Maki Kobayashi, “The claim our country has altered its position is entirely baseless” and Tokyo remains “committed to dialogue” with Beijing.
What’s China’s goal? Beijing hopes to frustrate Takaichi’s pledge to accelerate Japan’s military buildup and raise defense spending to 2% of GDP by fiscal year 2025, two years ahead of the target set by her predecessor, Shigeru Ishiba. According to Chong Ja Ian, an associate professor at the National University of Singapore, China is seeking “to box Takaichi in and put her on the back foot early on – so she will be more reluctant to push forward on Japan’s investment in defense.”
But so far, the public is backing the prime minister. According to David Boling, Eurasia Group’s director of Japan and Asia Trade, “Takaichi’s approval ratings are very high – even climbing higher in some polls. The Japanese public has a very negative view of China, and China’s extreme response will only reinforce that view.”
Could Japan’s position deter an invasion of Taiwan – or accelerate it? If China believes that a Taiwan crisis would trigger a US-led coalition response, Beijing could escalate its preparations to get ahead of Japan’s planned military buildup. Beijing is already conducting invasion drills using its “shadow navy,” and Chinese coast guard ships have increased their presence around the Senkaku/Diaoyu Islands, putting the Japanese air force and navy on high alert. That could increase the odds of a takeover – or an unintended encounter that could spiral into an international crisis.
German Chancellor and chairwoman of the Christian Democratic Union (CDU) Angela Merkel addresses a news conference in Berlin, Germany September 19, 2016.
Angela Merkel was elected chancellor of Germany on November 22, 2005, becoming the first woman to hold that job. In many ways, she was the ballast of Europe through the Eurozone crisis, the refugee surge, and the COVID pandemic.
During that time Merkel was arguably the most powerful woman in the world, presiding over one of its largest economies for four terms in the Bundesregierung.
Twenty years on, the anniversary is a reminder of how singular her breakthrough remains. It’s still the exception when a woman runs a country.
Consider the scoreboard. As of September 2025, 29 countries had a woman as head of state or government, just 14% of nations on a planet that is half female. Even after 2024’s “year of elections” which sent more than 4 billion people to the polls, men still outnumber women by three to one in legislative positions.
In 1995, when then First Lady Hillary Clinton famously declared, “Women’s rights are human rights,” 11% of parliamentarians globally were female. Today it’s 27%, but their share of cabinet leadership roles slipped over the past year. In short: representation in legislatures inches forward glacially, but control of the levers of power remains overwhelmingly male.
There are high-profile women in top offices, Mexico’s Claudia Sheinbaum and Italy’s Giorgia Meloni among them, but they are still swimming against a powerful tide: more than 100 countries have never had a woman leader.
Why does it matter who sits at the top? Beyond basic fairness, evidence keeps mounting that diverse leadership broadens policy priorities and improves decision-making. Studies have pointed to reduction of violence, greater gender equality, and strengthened education, healthcare, and social welfare policies. In geopolitical terms, it also affects how states engage in multilateral forums and crisis response.
At the Paris Peace Forum in October, former Chilean President Michelle Bachelet said women are more likely to bring empathy to positions of power. “Empathetic doesn't mean sympathetic,” she told GZERO. “It means that you can put yourself in the shoes of the other so you can understand the problem.”
Madam Secretary-General. About a third of the 193 United Nations member states have had a female leader, but the UN itself has never elected a woman to its top spot. As the organization marks its 80th anniversary, there are growing calls to change that next year, when a new Secretary-General will be chosen.
The organization GWL Voices has backed a campaign called “Madam Secretary-General,” and several prominent geopolitical players vocally supported the movement at this year’s General Assembly.
Ecuador’s Permanent Representative to the UN and GWL Voices Executive Director Maria Fernanda Espinosa told GZERO, “I think after 80 years of history, the organization deserves to have a woman at the helm. If the UN really wants to be transformed, there is a shift in styles of leadership that is needed. And the question I ask is, ‘Why not a woman?’"
After Merkel. While in office, Chancellor Merkel often promoted women’s rights in her speeches and once said, “I hope we won’t have to wait 100 years to achieve [full equality].”
Actually, the organization UN Women reports at the current pace it will take 130 years to attain an equal balance of men and women in positions of power.
While there has been progress since Merkel made history two decades ago, the path to parity remains elusive.
European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen delivers the State of the European Union address to the European Parliament, in Strasbourg, France, September 10, 2025.
While the European Union has never been more critical, it is also facing a trifecta of divisive challenges.
There are real forces strengthening the EU’s cohesion. Militarily, Russia’s war on Ukraine and challenges to EU members poses a profound security threat to the continent. Economically, the 27-country bloc has coordinated its response to US tariffs. And public support remains strong — 73% of EU citizens say their country has benefitted from membership.
Yet beneath this united front, three divisive issues are exposing the fault lines between European solidarity and individual national interests.
Issue #1: Funding Ukraine with frozen Russian assets. Ukraine desperately needs more funding, but European budgets are stretched and no country wants to prioritize Ukraine over its own citizens. Now the EU has reached an impasse: Belgium recently blocked a long-awaited loan plan that would have used $160 billion in frozen Russian central bank assets to support Ukraine's war effort. Belgium fears it could be held liable if Russia successfully demands its money back, with Euroclear, the Belgian securities depository holding the funds, calling any confiscation illegal and accusing leaders of seeing the assets as a “pot of gold.”
EU proponents are scrambling to address Belgium's concerns by proposing to jointly guarantee the funds against potential Russian legal claims. But the Russian-friendly states of Slovakia and Hungary are opposed to this approach, or taking the funds at all.
According to Eurasia Group's Managing Director for Europe Mujtaba Rahman, “using these reserves has become a really important goal for many member states” as a way to demonstrate commitment to Ukraine without straining their own budgets. Commission President Ursula von der Leyen agrees, calling the frozen assets “the most effective way to sustain Ukraine's defense and its economy.” The challenge is convincing the holdouts to come onside.
Issue #2: Migration gridlock. Last month, interior ministers gathered to hammer out implementation details for the EU Pact on Migration and Asylum. The deal was adopted in 2024 to tighten border security, share the cost of hosting migrants, and streamline deportations. While most EU leaders support reform in principle, putting the pact into practice has sparked fierce disagreement.
At the heart of the dispute is the pact’s “solidarity pool,” designed to ease pressure on Southern European states — namely Spain, Greece, Italy, and Cyprus — by redistributing asylum seekers across the continent. Countries unwilling to accept migrants can provide financial compensation instead. But many nations, particularly in Eastern Europe, resist accepting migrants who wouldn’t otherwise reach their borders, and resent being financially penalized for refusing.
This pressure is fueling nationalist parties throughout the EU. “It’s not going to get better,” warns Rahman. “You’re going to continue to see far-right support increase because the perception is migration is running out of control and governments don’t have a handle on how to secure their borders.”
Issue #3: National sovereignty versus European law. The EU’s handling of migration provides ammunition for nationalist and Euroskeptic leaders like Slovakian Prime Minister Robert Fico. Riding that moment, Fico recently changed his country’s constitution to assert that national laws take priority over EU legislation.
The constitutional change accompanied an amendment recognizing only two sexes, and explicitly prioritizing Slovak law on matters of national identity, culture, and ethics. It echoes Poland’s 2021 clash with the EU, when Warsaw faced tribunal proceedings over conflicting laws on judicial reforms, media freedoms, and LGBT rights.
Slovakia’s moves directly challenges the EU’s legal framework, in which EU law supersedes national legislation to maintain unity across the bloc. “I want to be absolutely clear: the primacy of EU law must be upheld in all cases across the European Union,” declared EU Justice Commissioner Michael McGrath. The EU has issued a warning to Slovakia and will soon decide whether to pursue legal action.
The EU hopes cracking down on Slovakia will reinforce its own control over the bloc. But as ever, it risks exacerbating the current issues that it faces, and encouraging member states to prioritize national interests over that of the bloc.
So the United States is gearing up for what looks like regime change. And I think it's a bad idea.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to see the back of Maduro. He’s a brutal dictator who's rigged elections, destroyed Venezuela's economy, overseen a humanitarian catastrophe that's displaced 9 million people, and turned his country into a narco-state playground for transnational cartels and Cuban intelligence. The opposition leader María Corina Machado is a genuine democrat who won the Nobel Peace Prize this year. Her running mate Edmundo González won last year's presidential election in a landslide that Maduro brazenly stole.
If we lived in a world where removing tyrants by force was very likely to produce better outcomes, I'd be all for it. But we don’t live in that world.
The 1989 Panama regime-change intervention gets trotted out as the model to emulate here – quick, surgical, successful. Remove Manuel Noriega, restore an elected government, get out. But Venezuela is not Panama.
Panama had 2.5 million people; Venezuela has nearly 30 million. Panama is tiny; Venezuela spans a territory the size of Texas and Oklahoma combined. The US had deep knowledge of Panamanian politics and faced minimal armed resistance; even then, the operation killed hundreds of civilians and left lasting scars.
Venezuela is far more complicated. It's got a heavily armed, economically entrenched, Cuban-supported military apparatus. Dissident FARC units. The ELN. Hezbollah. The Tren de Aragua gang. Armed colectivos loyal to the regime. And American intelligence on the ground has been spotty – which is why, despite months of military buildup, the US has mostly been blowing up fishing boats it claims are running cocaine, killing over 80 people since September without much evidence to show for it (and with little legal justification).
The Trump administration's theory of victory is that targeted strikes will crack Maduro's inner circle. Hit enough cartel assets, maybe take out figures like Iván Hernández Dala – who runs military counterintelligence and is responsible for kidnapping Americans – and senior military leaders will do the math and push Maduro out.
It's not crazy. These guys aren't ideologues; they're in it for money, power, and – ultimately – survival. Change their risk calculus enough and maybe Defense Minister Vladimir Padrino López or other top brass decide Maduro isn't worth dying for.
But if that pressure campaign fails – and history suggests it will – Trump will face pressure from Rubio and CIA Director John Ratcliffe to escalate by targeting Maduro directly. A full ground invasion remains off the table despite Trump saying Monday that he doesn't "rule anything out." The president wants to avoid the political costs of a botched operation or a lengthy quagmire; he’s increasingly comfortable with limited strikes à la Iran.
But then what? Even if the US manages to force Maduro out, the most likely outcome is an internal transition. Someone from the regime takes over, probably from the military or existing power structure. Maybe it's Vice President Delcy Rodríguez or her brother Jorge, the National Assembly president. They're no democrats but they’re pragmatic, have negotiated with Washington before, and could potentially mend fences while keeping enough of the state apparatus functioning to prevent anarchy.
Getting from that to an actual opposition-led government with Machado or González at the helm? That's the hard part. It requires street pressure, contentious negotiations, and credible guarantees for the security apparatus – you know, the guys currently running drugs, torturing regime critics, and starving millions of their fellow citizens. Some need to stay for the sake of stability; others need to go because of their crimes. Who decides which is which? Who enforces it?
Not Machado, who has moral authority but no armed forces and limited organizational capacity on the ground. When I interviewed her on GZERO World earlier this year, she told me she has plans for the first 100 hours and the first 100 days of a transition. But Ambassador James Story, who served as US Ambassador to Venezuela from 2018 to 2023, thinks Machado needs to be much more public about her plans for regime figures. "There needs to be a plan in place that says when we change, not everybody is gonna be out," he told me. “De-Baathification was a disaster.” No matter how unpalatable it sounds, some form of amnesty or integration will be necessary.
This is where the "anything is better than Maduro" argument falls apart. Not because Maduro doesn't deserve to go – he does. But because US-led regime change risks creating the kind of chaos that produces more refugee flows, more drug trafficking, and more regional instability. Iraq taught us that toppling a dictator is easy; building a functioning state is hard. Libya taught us that even "leading from behind" can produce chaos. Afghanistan taught us that twenty years and trillions of dollars can't conjure competent governance from scratch.
Now, Venezuela isn’t Iraq or Libya. The country is not riven by deep ethnic, religious, or sectarian cleavages. Any violence following Maduro's fall would likely be short-lived, rather than a protracted civil war. But the underlying problem remains: removing a dictator creates a vacuum, and vacuums get filled by whoever has the most organization and firepower. Not necessarily by the people with the best democratic credentials.
These are risks the Trump team doesn’t seem equipped to manage. Rubio is a true believer who sees Caracas as the linchpin for toppling the regimes in Cuba and Nicaragua – a domino theory for the 21st century. Trump himself is uncomfortable with prolonged foreign entanglements and wants quick wins he can sell to his MAGA base. That's a recipe for going in hard, declaring victory prematurely, and leaving a mess behind.
What Venezuela needs is a multilateral diplomatic solution with buy-in from Brazil, Colombia, and other regional players. Back-channel negotiations to guarantee safe exit for regime figures. A phased transition roadmap – the kind that worked in Brazil and Uruguay – that brings in opposition leadership gradually while keeping enough institutions functional. And a commitment to stick around – diplomatically, economically, maybe even with security assistance – for years, not months. Does any of that sound like Trump 2.0 to you?
There's one asterisk. Trump's Gaza ceasefire, like the Abraham Accords during his first term, showed that the president can occasionally pull off complex diplomatic breakthroughs when he's personally invested and has capable people executing. Maybe – and it’s a big maybe – Venezuela could become that if Trump sees it as legacy-defining. But stacking maybes on top of maybes isn't a bankable strategy.
Even as it has ramped up preparations for military escalation, the White House has simultaneously reopened negotiations with Maduro – "I talk to anybody," Trump told reporters Monday, though he rejected Maduro’s offer to step down after a two-to-three-year transition. It’s classic Trump: maximize pressure while keeping diplomatic options open. But if talks fail – and they probably will – the massive buildup leaves him little choice but to strike, likely before the year’s end.
So here we are. Maduro needs to go. But we've seen this movie before, and it doesn't end well.
United States President Donald J Trump awaits the arrival Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman Al Saud at the White House in Washington, DC, USA, on November 18, 2025. Featuring: Donald J Trump Where: Washington, District of Columbia, United States When: 18 Nov 2025
Ten months into the second administration of US President Donald Trump, the most pressing foreign policy puzzle is not about the Middle East, the war in Ukraine or even relations with China. The question top of mind right now is what is going on in the Western Hemisphere, and does it reveal an emerging Trump Doctrine?
It is fair to say that Trump’s 2025 engagement with its regional neighbors was not on the market’s radar when he assumed office in January. There were, however, indicators of what was to come. In December 2024, Trump cast a spotlight on Panama, pledging to retake control over the canal to prevent the US from continuing to be “ripped off.” Trump also spoke early on about targeting regional trading partners Canada and Mexico with tariffs. In the case of Canada, these threats and musings about the possibility of a “51st state” contributed to then-Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s resignation in January.
Trump’s longstanding commitment to curbing regional migrant flows and “executing the immigration laws” of the US offered another clue of what lay ahead. From the travel ban issued in the first week of Trump 1.0 in 2017, to appropriations for the southern border wall to dispatching US Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents on the streets in 2025, Trump and his team care deeply about enforcement, who is allowed to enter the country, and who is permitted to stay in the country.
The administration’s Day 1 executive order on foreign policy built on these indicators and set forth a vision for Trump 2.0: “From this day forward, the foreign policy of the United States shall champion core American interests and always put America and American citizens first.” The “America First” isolationism of Trump’s first term was replaced with an activist, no-stone-left-uncovered approach.
A neighborhood unsettled
Despite transparency about its foreign policy ambitions, the way in which the current US administration has gone about pursuing its policy objectives in the Western Hemisphere – designating drug cartels as terrorist organizations, striking alleged narcotraffickers operating in the Caribbean and eastern Pacific, moving an advanced aircraft carrier into waters off of Venezuela, reopening a military base in Puerto Rico, among other measures - has surprised many and rankled regional leaders and US allies.
In recent days, Colombia announced it would suspend intelligence sharing with the US after months of tension with the Trump administration. Colombia is not alone. Close allies in the United Kingdom and the Netherlands have also halted intelligence sharing over the Trump administration’s tactics in the region and human rights concerns.
Drawing on doctrinal ghosts
To make sense of these regional developments and their fallout, analysts and watchers have called upon the Monroe Doctrine. Some have gone so far as to label the administration’s foreign policy approach the “Donroe Doctrine.”
Although pithy and appealing, the 1823 Monroe Doctrine was primarily a response to external (European) interference in Western Hemisphere affairs. Pursuant to the doctrine, the American continents would not be open to future colonization, and the US would consider any violation of this tenet to be “dangerous to our peace and safety.” It is from the Monroe Doctrine that the concept of “spheres of influence” was derived. Europe would be for Europe. Existing European colonies were also for Europe. Everything else in the Western Hemisphere was for itself, with the caveat of a “connected” and invested US standing readily by.
It would be naïve to disregard all analogies to the current landscape. The Trump administration is aware of the deep trade, economic, and security relations between countries in the region and China and Russia. In 2025, China is now South America’s top trading partner and a major regional investor. The US administration’s forthcoming National Security Strategy and National Defense Strategy will both reportedly highlight the need for greater attention to the region in light of these global dynamics.
Even still, there are limits to the dispositive power of the Monroe Doctrine. The recent US overtures in the Western Hemisphere are not principally animated by the threat of external interference. Rather than the original Doctrine, the Trump administration’s strategy in the region better recalls its 1904 Roosevelt Corollary set forth by then-President Theodore Roosevelt. According to the Roosevelt Corollary, in the event of “chronic wrongdoing” or “impotence” in the Western Hemisphere it was the US’s responsibility to serve as an “international police power” for the region. The Roosevelt Corollary empowered American vast interventionism based on conditions within the Western Hemisphere itself, regardless of any external threat.
The Trump Doctrine
In a similar manner, the second Trump administration is also directing a message to the region. The US will not tolerate hostile neighbors, unfettered narcotics, and unregulated migration flows. And over the long term, the US intends to achieve better access to regional markets and natural resources like rare critical minerals to support US domestic markets and its economic agenda. To these ends, there will be force – “police power” - (war exercises, military buildups, targeted strikes), but the administration will also leverage all the tools in its portfolio from economic (tariffs, bailouts, aid suspensions and sanctions) to political (visa restrictions, renaming water bodies). Posting last week on social media, Secretary of War Pete Hegseth explained: “The Western Hemisphere is America’s neighborhood and we will protect it.”
This is the developing Trump Doctrine: use all available means at any time to champion core American interests, and always put America and American citizens first. As defined, in each case, by the administration. But unlike Roosevelt, who aspired to “walk softly and carry a big stick,” the Trump administration has heavy footsteps and will be pulling many levers.
Canada's Prime Minister Mark Carney and Minister of Finance Francois-Philippe Champagne applaud after a confidence vote on the federal budget passes in the House of Commons on Parliament Hill in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada November 17, 2025.
Canada’s six-month old minority government survived a de facto confidence vote on its first budget yesterday, avoiding the possibility of a Christmas election. Carney now has a mandate to run the second-highest deficit in Canadian history, at CA$78.3 billion, in order to implement wide-ranging industrial policy that includes infrastructure, resource development, and defense. It’s a blow for the opposition parties, most notably the Conservatives, whose leader Pierre Poilievre is facing a leadership review vote by his party at its annual convention in January.
What will the budget mean for Canada? Over the next five years, the government will invest CA$115 billion in infrastructure spending, including electricity-grid upgrades and high-speed rail, as well as in major projects, including port infrastructure, LNG plants, and to support critical minerals development projects that could challenge China’s dominance in the sector. It will spend CA$25 billion on housing, a major election issue, as well as an extra CA$81.8 billion on defense. A “Buy Canadian” procurement regime will steer federal contracts toward domestic suppliers for all these engagements.
But the plan comes with an average CA$64.3 billion annual deficit for the next four years, double what had been projected by the previous government. According to the Fitch ratings agency, Canada’s general government-debt-to-GDP ratio will rise to 91.8% in 2026 and 98.5% in 2027, compared with 88.6% in 2024 and nearly double its AA rating median of 49.6%. To counter the fiscal pressure, the budget promises to cut 10% of public service jobs to balance the government’s operating expenditures, but capital spending will still have Ottawa in the red.
Those factors made the budget unpalatable to both the right-wing Conservatives and the left-wing New Democrats while two other smaller parties, the Bloc Quebecois and the Greens, refused to support it due to its failure to increase Old Age security payments and its removal of the federal emissions cap on Canada’s oil and gas industry.
So then how did the budget pass? Carney’s government was three seats shy of a majority when the bill was introduced on Nov. 4. That same day, however, a Conservative MP, Chris d’Entremont, crossed the floor to the Liberals, and a day later, another Conservative, Matt Jeneroux, announced he would resign his seat in the spring, ostensibly for family reasons, amid rumours that he was also considering joining the government.
That left Carney still in need of two crucial votes, or a combination of votes and abstentions. He got the support of Elisabeth May, leader of the Green Party, in exchange for a promise to meet Canada’s climate targets in the Paris Agreement to reduce greenhouse gas emissions by 40-45% below 2005 levels by 2030, though it is not clear how that will be achieved with the new energy investments in the budget. Four opposition MPs then abstained, two each from the Conservatives (Jeneroux, and another with serious health issues) and the New Democrats (one whose local mayors and Indigenous leaders did not want an election, and another who saw benefits in the budget for her riding). This allowed the budget to pass by a vote of 170 to 168.
Where does this leave the opposition? The drama has weakened Conservative leader Poilievre. Many MPs were already unhappy with the party’s election defeat in April, blaming Poilievre for failing to pivot to the issue of opposing US President Donald Trump. The Conservative leader also lost his own seat and had to win a seat in a by-election in order to return to Parliament in September.
But the biggest problem in the Conservative Party is governance. In the wake of the budget floor crossing, Poilievre and his advisors reportedly threatened MPs to prevent further defections, leading one to liken their style to that of “the Sopranos”. This could spell trouble for Poilievre at an upcoming Conservative leadership review in January, required when the party loses an election: a score under 80% could severely undermine his ability to remain leader.
At the other end of the political spectrum, the NDP are fighting for relevance after the 2025 election reduced them to seven seats and saw their leader resign. The party is voting to choose a new leader in March 2026, making the prospect of an election now without a permanent leader an unappealing prospect. However, the decision by two members to abstain revives bitter memories of the party’s deal to prop up the previous Liberal government, which angered many members and became a factor in the New Democrats’ defeat.
How stable is the government?
With the budget passed, the Liberals don’t need to worry about another confidence vote until the fall of 2026. But nothing prevents the government from going to the polls at any time, if it thinks it could be to its advantage. The longest a government can stay in power in Canada is five years, but the average lifespan of a government without a locked-in majority of Parliament is about two years. The timing of the next election could hinge on many factors, including striking a trade deal with Trump, the state of the Canadian economy, and the strength – or weakness - of opposition leaders.
Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed Bin Salman reacts next to US President Donald Trump during the Saudi-U.S. Investment Forum, in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, on May 13, 2025.
For the first time in seven years, Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman is returning to Washington, DC, this week. While crude oil has traditionally pulled the two countries close together, it is now the great power-chess game between the US and China that is making them join forces.
MBS, as the de-facto Saudi leader is known, and US President Donald Trump have much to discuss when it comes to peace in the Middle East. The chances of Saudi Arabia recognizing Israel by joining the Abraham Accords are slim. Nonetheless, defense agreements will be on the table, as Saudi Arabia seeks to bolster its protections in what has been a tumultuous year in the region.
The US-Saudi relationship has come full circle since the crown prince’s last visit in 2018. Since then, there was the killing of Washington Post journalist Jamal Khashoggi – reportedly sanctioned by the crown prince – at a Saudi consulate in Turkey, which created major tensions. Those were exacerbated after Riyadh got upset with Washington when it refused to respond to the 2019 Houthi attack on Saudi oil facilities. Then, during the 2020 campaign, Joe Biden suggested Saudi Arabia should be a “pariah.” Biden then sought to ease tensions in 2022, as he wanted Riyadh to pump more oil to alleviate high inflation rates. And now the AI race between the US and China has pushed Riyadh and Washington closer together.
“[Khashoggi’s death] hung like a pall over MBS reputation in the United States,” Hussein Ibish, a senior resident scholar at the Arab Gulf States Initiative in Washington, told GZERO. “Time has worn away the sting a little bit.”
The Middle East has also changed dramatically over the past seven years. Israel was locked in a brutal war with Hamas for the past two years, with a fragile ceasefire keeping the peace for now. More Arab nations are concerned about the conflict spilling over, too, especially after Israel bombed Qatar in a failed bid to kill Hamas leaders. Meanwhile, the influence of Saudi’s top enemy, Iran, has diminished, as its proxies in the region – the Assad regime in Syria, Hezbollah in Lebanon, and Hamas in Gaza – have all been hobbled or even removed.
“Iran is no longer the strategic threat that it was seven years ago,” Ibish said. “[But] there is still this need on the part of Saudi Arabia for American security guarantees.”
So what will Trump and bin Salman discuss? First and foremost for the crown prince will be defense. There are two aspects to this: firstly, Saudi wants a defense agreement akin to what the US signed with Qatar, ensuring that the US will defend the Gulf state in case of attack. Secondly, the Saudis want to buy F-35 planes from the US – Israel is the only Middle East country that has successfully negotiated and executed a purchase agreement of F-35s.
“The US public and US government and Trump have been a little bit more critical of Israel,” Alia Awadallah, who was a Pentagon official during Biden’s term in office, told GZERO, suggesting that the US may be willing to sell to a country other than Israel. “[Saudi Arabia] will be trying to assess whether it’s actually realistic to get that type of sale through both the White House, but also through Congress, which would have to approve it.”
The US is sure to bring up something that has layed tantalizingly out of reach: the Abraham Accords. Trump is reportedly still pressing MBS to recognize Israel and join the Accords, arguing that the peace he successfully brokered in Gaza should be enough to prompt Riyadh to do so. But the crown prince has repeatedly said that he wouldn’t do this until Israel recognizes a Palestinian state, so the chances of him signing the accords on this trip are close to null.
“At a minimum, this requires phase two of the Gaza ceasefire being implemented, and Israeli assurances regarding the Palestinian right of self determination,” said Eurasia Group’s Middle East Director Firas Maksad. “And we’re not there yet.”
If there’s no agreement on the Accords, there’s likely to be more on artificial intelligence. It is this area – rather than oil – that is pushing the two countries closer together, per Maksad. Trump’s visit to Riyadh in May was all about AI, with Saudi firms pledging billions of dollars in investments. In return, Riyadh wants access to items like Nvidia’s AI chips for its data centers. Meanwhile the US wants to see those incoming investments, while ensuring that Saudi secures rights to critical minerals in Africa, grants US access to them, and blocks China from getting them. This trip will be a chance to firm up these AI ties.
“Although the headlines continue to be animated by the prospect of normalization between Israel and Saudi Arabia… that is the wrong lens to be looking at things,” said Maksad. “This [US-Saudi] relationship is increasingly shaped by great power competitions, particularly US-China dynamics, rather than anything specific to the region and the Arab-Israeli conflict.”