At the end of March 2026, the map of the world is once again being viewed through the prism of Washington. The war of the United States and Israel with Iran, which began on February 28, strikes on oil and gas infrastructure in the Persian Gulf, Iranian retaliatory attacks on US bases and facilities in Gulf countries, a sharp jump in oil and gas prices, a plunge on Wall Street and nervousness in the financial markets — all of this makes America the center of almost every international conversation. Against this backdrop, Russia's war against Ukraine continues and the protracted debate over the scale and form of American aid to Kyiv persists. And when viewed from Paris, Ankara or Kyiv, the United States ceases to be an abstract superpower and becomes a very concrete factor in personal security, gasoline prices, tourism prospects and even the possibility of victory in war.
The common thread for all three countries is the feeling that Washington can no longer fight only "one war at a time." The war with Iran is perceived both as a continuation of long‑standing Middle Eastern interventionism and as a competing priority that is eating up resources that previously went to Ukraine. In France this is read through the prism of oil, inflation and the role of Trump in escalation; in Turkey — through anti‑Americanism, the threat of dragging the region into a "new Middle Ages" and Turkey’s growing value as a transit and military platform; in Ukraine — through the fear that the country will end up behind the Persian Gulf in the queue for American air‑defense systems.
The first major storyline uniting French and Turkish voices is precisely the US‑Israel war with Iran and its energy consequences. French analytical platforms and left‑wing outlets describe what is happening as a classic "war for control of oil," where Washington, in essence, is fighting not only Tehran but also for the architecture of the entire global hydrocarbon market. In a piece by the revolutionary left newspaper NPA about a "war for control of the Middle East and its oil" it is emphasized that the blockage of the Strait of Hormuz and the surge in oil prices coincided with Donald Trump's boastful statement that the US had "knocked out" 100 million barrels of Venezuelan oil by taking advantage of Maduro's overthrow, and is now trying to redistribute energy flows in its favor, turning the crisis into an opportunity for American oil interests and pushing Europe toward even greater dependence on the US as a supplier and guarantor of maritime security. The author explicitly reminds readers that it was Trump who, by withdrawing in 2018 from the Iran nuclear deal and tightening sanctions, laid the groundwork for the current escalation, which he now uses to consolidate the domestic electorate and allies abroad as a "wartime president" in the year of his return to the White House. NPA‑Révolutionnaires writes about this in the article "Une guerre pour le contrôle du Moyen‑Orient et son pétrole," stressing that under the slogan of fighting the Iranian bomb, the US and its allies are in effect dividing spheres of influence and commodity flows in the region.
French media more oriented toward economics view the American campaign against Iran through oil quotes and investor behavior. In reports about how the conflict in the region is "weighing down" global exchanges, French and Francophone outlets note: after the strikes on Iran began, including on the South Pars field, the price of Brent jumped by roughly $20, while stock indices in New York fell for several sessions in a row under the weight of global growth concerns. Analysis for financial professionals notes that "against the backdrop of a protracted conflict between the US and Iran, major American indices are again losing ground," and initial hopes for a quick diplomatic resolution are being replaced by an understanding of a prolonged scenario in which the US, despite Trump's statements about "victory," is forced to increase its military presence and ask Congress for additional hundreds of billions of dollars for the operation. Specialized outlet Tribune Assurance, for example, writes that investors are pricing in not only military risks but also the prospect of US debt burdens and new dollar volatility.
At the same time, in the left Francophone sphere, including translations of materials from Middle Eastern research centers, a more conceptual conversation is taking place: can the US even maintain a model of unilateral "umbrella" security guarantees for some Gulf monarchies and open hostility toward others without becoming a "permanent source of destabilization" in a zone critical to global capitalism? In a translated article on the portal "A l’Encontre" about the "geopolitical dilemma of the US regarding the Persian Gulf," it is stressed that the American strategy of rigidly constructing axes of allies and enemies effectively makes Washington an inevitable target for both Iranian strikes and popular dissatisfaction in the Arab world, and that the only sustainable way out would be a genuinely multipolar security format rather than the dominance of a single power.
In Turkey the same war is seen in a very different emotional register. Turkish news and analytical resources closely track every movement of American aircraft carriers and supply ships, noting the USS Gerald R. Ford in Souda Bay on Crete after operations in the Red Sea and pointing out how American presence densifies an arc from the Eastern Mediterranean to the Persian Gulf. Turkish site nefes.com, reporting on the arrival of the "giant aircraft carrier" to Crete while simultaneously covering Iranian strikes on facilities with American personnel in Kuwait and the Middle East, constructs an image of a region in which the US becomes both a target and a catalyst for the expansion of strikes: according to that portal, Iran claims an attack on a hotel in Dubai and the destruction of six American landing craft (LCUs) in the port of Shuwaikh in Kuwait using kamikaze drones.
Columnists from Turkey's left and Kemalist traditions draw broader conclusions from this. In a vivid column by Umit Zileli published on the same nefes.com under the title "İşbirlikçi Gladyo!" the author draws a line from past NATO "Gladio" secrets and US involvement in dirty operations in Turkey to the current "bloody spectacle" staged by the US and Israel in the Middle East. Zileli argues that "the US, once again led by an imitator of Hitler‑fascism, is putting on a performance, including for Turkey, capable of plunging the whole world into a new Middle Ages." This rhetoric reflects typical Turkish skepticism: wars in which Americans act as "directors" inevitably return as internal upheavals, strengthening the "deep state" and pressuring Turkish sovereignty. At the same time, Turkey objectively becomes even more indispensable as a transit corridor and politico‑military platform between the Black Sea, the Eastern Mediterranean and the Persian Gulf, so its elites bargain with Washington for maximal gains and minimal risks.
In the second major storyline — Ukraine — the US war with Iran is present as well, but from a different angle. Ukrainian and Kyiv‑aligned English‑language outlets view the Middle Eastern conflict primarily as a competitor for resources: the same Patriot missiles, the same precision munitions and the same attention of Congress. In an analytical commentary about how the "war in the Middle East is redefining Ukraine's future," published in mid‑March, it is stated bluntly: "Every day of the Iranian conflict is another day of respite for Moscow: another day when Patriots fall on Iran instead of protecting Kharkiv, another day when oil remains expensive, another day when the world forgets about Ukraine." The author notes that the US, Saudi Arabia, Japan, South Korea, Germany, the Netherlands and Ukraine itself are competing for the same missiles and air‑defense systems, meaning each new weapons package to support operations against Iran is an invisible deduction from future supplies to Kyiv.
Nevertheless, Ukrainian expert discussion retains the understanding that without the US no architecture of security guarantees for Ukraine is possible. Ukrainian political scientists and analysts, for instance in overviews by the Ukrainian Institute of Politics, describe how the negotiation track on ending the war has narrowed to two key questions — territories and security guarantees — and stress that US Vice President J.D. Vance openly speaks of trying to "press both the Russians and the Ukrainians to sit them down at the table and strike a deal." This elicits a mixed reaction: on the one hand, Washington is seen as a necessary "guarantor" without whose participation no agreements would be worth the paper they are written on; on the other hand, it is viewed as a power eager to "close" the conflict on terms and a timeline acceptable to itself and its budget, especially against the backdrop of spending on the war with Iran.
The third intersecting storyline is American domestic politics, Trump's return to the White House and how this changes attitudes toward the US in Europe, Turkey and Ukraine. In France even travel agencies felt the signs of a new era. In a Le Figaro piece about a sharp cooling of French interest in trips to the US, despite objective branding reasons — the country's 250th anniversary, celebrations along Route 66 and the upcoming 2026 FIFA World Cup on American soil — IFOP survey data are cited: 46% of French people said that after Donald Trump's return to power they are "less inclined" to go to the US than before. Tour operators point to a combination of two factors: the "Trump effect," which has reinforced the image of America as politically polarized and potentially unsafe, and rising prices — for flights and accommodation — largely due to an energy crisis exacerbated by the Middle Eastern war. Thus, US foreign policy, sanctions and military campaigns become not abstract geopolitics but a very concrete reason why a French family revises its holiday plans.
France's political and intellectual scene is also actively discussing Trump's return. Leftists and Gaullists see in him an intensification of an "imperialist tilt" and a readiness for hard‑power scenarios from Iran to Ukraine. The aforementioned NPA piece emphasizes that the current escalation with Iran is a logical continuation of Trump's first term, when he wrecked the nuclear deal, strengthened sanctions and planted a mine under the future. Gaullist bloggers, for example the "Gaullistes de Sceaux" group, view American and Israeli strikes on Iranian infrastructure as a "violent imposition of a new order" in the region, where France risks being drawn in through its bases and commitments if the conflict spreads, for example to Cyprus. "A strike on Cyprus would inevitably pull in Greece, France and the UK," warns one such text, reminding readers that Washington's choices are far from neutral for Paris.
In Turkey, Trump long ago became a symbol of what is called "American arbitrariness." Turkish leftist publicists and part of the nationalist press see in him a "Hitler imitator" ready, for his ambitions and ideological project, to destroy international law and regional balances. In Umit Zileli's column the references to a "new Middle Ages" under US and Israeli rule sound not only as rhetoric but as a warning: every wave of American military activity in the region has historically been accompanied by increased pressure on Turkey — from the dismantling of Iraqi security architecture and the Kurdish issue to the transformation of Turkish armed forces under NATO diktat. Stories about how in past decades a significant portion of the spending on covert anti‑communist structures in Turkey was covered by the US are now woven into the narrative about the current conflict: an American war "over there" always means deep political change "here."
Ukraine, by contrast, sees in the figure of Trump above all the variability of American support. The Ukrainian press has detailed how, in the past, Congress accepted aid packages for Kyiv after seven months of delay under demands from Trump's wing to convert some grants to loans and reduce direct budget transfers. European Pravda explained that the law on aid to Ukraine passed through a complicated sieve of concessions to the Trumpist wing, including attempts to convert part of military support into credit, which at the time raised questions: "If almost the same content was adopted anyway, why was there a delay?" Against the background of the White House's current giant requests to fund the war with Iran, fears that Ukraine will once again become hostage to intra‑party games in Washington have only grown.
The fourth common motif is the perception of the US as a "firefighter‑arsonist": a power that simultaneously sets fires and tries to put them out, eroding trust in it both in the West and the East. In Russian‑ and Ukrainian‑language analytical materials about the US‑Israel war with Iran there are descriptions of how, in the very first days of the campaign, Washington struck at key Iranian energy facilities, including South Pars and Assaluyeh, and Iran responded with mass launches of missiles and drones at American bases in the Middle East and targets in Persian Gulf countries. Regional media note that Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Kuwait, Qatar, Bahrain and Azerbaijan publicly condemned the Iranian strikes while reserving the right to respond, but Western and French sources also convey another line: many Gulf monarchies in recent weeks have refused the US full use of their bases and airspace for possible strikes on Iran, fearing being dragged into direct confrontation. The Francophone Wikipedia entry on "the strengthening of American military presence in the Middle East in 2026" notes that some Gulf states denied the US access to their infrastructure for airstrikes on Iran, citing fear of retaliatory attacks. This creates a paradoxical situation in which even traditional allies begin to distance themselves from American offensive operations, seeing them as a threat to their own stability.
In France skepticism toward strategic dependence on the US is growing. Leftists and some centrist analysts criticize Paris's involvement in the "American‑Israeli war" and warn that attachment to the American military machine automatically makes France a target for Iranian and proxy strikes and increases energy risks. Gaullist circles recall the Gaullist tradition of "strategic autonomy" and ask: isn't it time for Europe, and especially France as the future host of the G7‑2026 summit, to build an alternative security architecture in which the US would be an important partner but not the sole guarantor? At the same time, the French Foreign Ministry and economic departments are closely watching how the war accelerates the reshaping of energy flows: in a review of African news prepared by the French Finance Ministry, it is emphasized that the war in the Middle East and the partial blockade of the Strait of Hormuz have accelerated demand for Algerian gas, especially from Spain, the UK, the Netherlands and France, meaning Paris must balance support for the American line on Iran with a desire to diversify energy supplies, including by avoiding unstable routes.
Turkey views the current escalation as confirmation of a long‑held intuition: relying solely on the US as a security guarantor in the region is dangerous. Hence the rhetoric about a "treacherous Gladio" and the constant reminders of how in the past Turkish military leaders, such as General Nejip Tormutay, resigned rather than drag the country into American adventures — for example, in the first Iraq war. These historical reminiscences in Umit Zileli's column are used as a backdrop for criticism of the current "complete overhaul of the army" under the diktat of external forces and internal "liberal partners," who, according to the author, received "3–4 thousand dollars in envelopes" at closed meetings. In the eyes of a significant part of Turkish society the US remains a power that, through wars in the region, intelligence links and economic dependence, tries to shape Turkey's internal landscape.
Ukraine, on the other hand, cannot afford the luxury of such skepticism. For Kyiv the US remains an indispensable source of weapons, intelligence and diplomatic protection. Ukrainian politicians and experts are simultaneously grateful for the hundreds of billions of dollars already allocated in military and economic aid and worried by signs of fatigue in Congress and society. Ukrainian commentaries often make the point that aid is "no longer wanted unconditionally," and that every new initiative in Washington requires bargaining and concessions, up to changing the format — from grants to loans. Against this backdrop the war with Iran is seen as an additional risk: if the White House must ask for another $200 billion for the Middle Eastern front, will there be room in the budget for new packages for Ukraine? And if even now Vice President Vance speaks of the need to "pressure both sides" for a deal, won't the combination of the Iranian campaign and weariness with the Ukrainian war lead to Kyiv being the one pressed most strongly?
It is interesting that in all three countries there are nuanced angles of perceiving the US that are not always obvious in American media. In France this is a fear of a "Trumpified" America not only as a source of military risks but as a country where domestic polarization, racial conflicts and mass shootings turn even a tourist trip into a moral and psychological choice. In Turkey it is the understanding that American support for some regional players and sanctions against others inevitably increase instability and push Ankara toward a more complex game among Washington, Moscow, Tehran and Brussels. In Ukraine it is the realization of a duality: the US is both a "shield," without which the country would not survive, and a "director" who can stop funding, change the form of assistance or press for a political compromise perceived by part of the population as betrayal.
Against the backdrop of preparations for the G7‑2026 summit in France and talks about a new global security architecture, the world looking at Washington from Paris, Ankara and Kyiv sees not a monolithic superpower but a nervous, divided center of power. The US intervenes to manage wars and at the same time becomes hostage to them; it promises security guarantees but is increasingly forced to share that role with other centers — from the EU to regional powers. And it is precisely this duality — between necessity and danger of American power — that today shapes the tone of debates about the US in France, Turkey and Ukraine, making America the main but no longer an uncontested protagonist of other people’s news.
