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What defines Donald Trump is his ability to transform any issue into a high-voltage patriotic mission.
In his latest intervention, where he tied Greenland, the Gulf of Mexico, and the Panama Canal into a single burst of national strategy, it’s clear that he prioritizes putting the flag ahead of any negotiation—a stance that seems to have been lost in our part of the world, buried under the fog of political correctness.
Trump makes it clear that the United States should secure its «vital interests» by purchasing Greenland, fiercely defending his rebranded Gulf of America, and ensuring control of the Panama Canal.
Magistral clase de geopolítica de Trump a Sánchez https://t.co/hbHR2dPlEW
— okdiario.com (@okdiario) January 8, 2025
It sounds bold, even ambitious, but behind this vision is a powerful logic: an unwavering commitment to defending national interests. While others sign blank checks to Brussels or Rabat, Trump thinks of his fellow Americans as though his own life depends on it.
Now, let’s compare this to our president, Pedro Sánchez, a leader whose political backbone seems to be made of playdough.
In May 2021, while Ceuta faced an unprecedented migratory surge, Sánchez chose the most humiliating diplomatic surrender in decades. He handed over the Sahara to Morocco in a move he didn’t even have the decency to consult with Parliament about. The “be strong, Mohamed” he didn’t dare to utter was followed by a red carpet that would have been excessive even for Aladdin. While Rabat treated us as their backyard, Sánchez was strolling through Europe handing out selfie smiles and delivering empty speeches about «international solidarity.»
Can you imagine Trump in La Moncloa? The Rock of Gibraltar wouldn’t last two tweets. With a “Make Spain Great Again” in a Castilian version, the flag factories would be working overtime. The American leader would have the Brits return even the monkey souvenirs. While we’re still debating whether we should discuss the “Gibraltar problem” or the “question of the Rock,” Trump would have already built a golf course on the rock, and the Gibraltarians would have swapped bacon for Spanish lard.
Of course, the left is scandalized. “Yankee imperialism,” they cry, “aggressive diplomacy.” Personally, I’d prefer a diplomacy that dares to demand and negotiate rather than one that merely picks up scraps. Trump discusses Greenland because he knows that his position could solidify his country’s geopolitical advantage. Meanwhile, Europe debates how to distribute immigrant quotas, ignoring the fact that mass migration is a political tool used to destabilize democracies.
And here, when we face a historic crisis with incoming immigrants, Sánchez rushes to thank “Moroccan cooperation,” while minors occupy headlines and neighbors search for answers.
Trump, with a pragmatic vision and a sharp eye for opportunity, understands that national interests are non-negotiable. The Panama Canal is not just a waterway; it’s the perfect metaphor for managing the threads of global trade. Greenland is not just ice and polar bears; it’s a treasure trove of mineral resources and a key piece in the Arctic game. And the Gulf of Mexico? Well, that’s the backyard any neighbor would want securely locked.
If Spain had a Trump, we might still have a respected position on the international stage. Gibraltar would be very different from what it is today, and the Brits wouldn’t be mocking us; Ceuta and Melilla would have a wall that even Hadrian’s wouldn’t have been able to match; and the Sahara wouldn’t have changed hands without at least hearing from the Spanish government. But here we are, caught between “dialogue tables” and “historic agreements,” handing over the keys to the house and thanking them for not changing the locks.
The difference between Trump and Sánchez is that one plays geopolitical chess, while the other entertains himself playing tic-tac-toe with Begoña. And while Trump grabs the board and tilts it in his direction, Sánchez limits himself to applauding the opponent’s moves. In the end, between Greenland and Ceuta, between the Panama Canal and the Sahara, what’s at stake is not only the control of territories or routes; it’s the soul of nations and their ability to control their destiny.
So, laugh, criticize, and despise Trump all you want, progressives, but understand one thing: in his model of leadership, there’s something we’ve forgotten here—the will to be more than just spectators in history. While Sánchez gets caught up in commemorating Franco’s death, Trump, in his pragmatic and resolute way, reminds us that those who don’t fight for what’s theirs end up watching others take it at the expense of their future.
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