In early April 2026, global discussion of the United States rarely boils down to abstract "anti-Americanism." In Turkey, Saudi Arabia and Brazil, talk about America is now tied to very concrete things: the US and Israel's war with Iran, fluctuations in oil and gas prices, Washington's pressure on neighboring countries in Latin America and the new security architecture in the hemisphere, and how all this hits the wallets and politics of Ankara, Riyadh and Brasília. If you read only American media, it may seem the main topic is US domestic politics and the White House's rhetoric. But in Turkey, the Gulf countries and Brazil, the US appears primarily as a warring, regulatory, blocking and at the same time indispensable power.
The central recurring theme for all three countries is the war of the US and its allies with Iran, which began after strikes on Iranian leadership and has grown into a broad campaign against Iran's military and nuclear infrastructure. In the Saudi press this war is described as "American-Israeli" and as an event that has changed the entire news landscape: an editorial in Al‑Riyadh directly states that since February 28, 2026 "the order of the global agenda has changed," and media and market attention has shifted from Ukraine to the Middle East, where "escalation, speed of developments, impact on oil prices, energy security and the nuclear balance" have converged, with the United States named as the key actor, increasing its military presence and leading the campaign against Iran. In this logic the US is not an abstract "West" but a specific military player launching a new wave of instability on which the budgets of Gulf states depend.
The Saudi discourse is noticeably ambivalent. On the one hand, official Al‑Riyadh materials constantly stress the importance of stability and echo UN Secretary‑General António Guterres in warning that the world "stands on the brink of a broader war" that will hit poor countries hardest, which are already suffering from rising food and energy prices. One piece quotes his warning about the "colossal consequences" of the ongoing Middle East conflict for the whole world, from which "everyone is already suffering." (alriyadh.com) This reflects the position of the Saudi establishment: not to condemn Washington directly, but to constantly return the conversation to risks for the global economy and the need for de‑escalation.
On the other hand, oil market analysis in the same Saudi media shows a more pragmatic view of the US. In Al‑Riyadh's market review, a price drop of more than 3% is explained in part by "signals from the United States about a possible near end to the war," and an expert from the London Stock Exchange Group says the fall was linked to profit‑taking amid those signals. (a6.alriyadh.com) So even when Washington is perceived as a source of escalation, its hints at a "soon end" to the conflict are immediately factored into market expectations and Saudi discussions of budget policy.
The Brazilian perspective on the same conflict with Iran is much less focused on Gulf security and much more on how American power "spills over" into other regions. Brazilian pieces on the war with Iran currently circulating in the analytical agenda emphasize that the campaign has become the culmination of an overall increase in American military presence in the Middle East: there is notable discussion of carrier deployments, large air groupings and what journalists call "one of the most significant military dispositions since 2003." (pt.wikipedia.org) For the Brazilian audience this is not a "drama in a distant region" but a backdrop for talks about a new US policy across the hemisphere.
It is no coincidence that in the same Brazilian sources the war with Iran is mentioned alongside the "Escudo das Américas" project — "Shield of the Americas," announced by Washington in March 2026 as a new initiative on security and control of migration and drug trafficking in the Western Hemisphere. The appointment of a special US envoy for this initiative is presented as a step toward institutionalizing American leadership over regional operations from the Caribbean to the Amazon. (pt.wikipedia.org) For Brazilian commentators this fits into a broader picture: when the US demonstrates readiness for forceful intervention in the war with Iran, in Latin America the question arises whether the "Shield of the Americas" will become another channel of pressure, including on governments that do not align with Washington.
This anxiety is fueled by recent experience: in 2025 a diplomatic crisis flared between Brazil and the US when Washington imposed 10% tariffs on a range of Brazilian goods and at the same time sharply criticized the human rights and internet freedom situation in Brazil, linking restrictions on access to a social network to "undermining freedom of expression." (pt.wikipedia.org) For the Brazilian public this became an example of how value rhetoric and trade pressure can be combined in one package. So today, amid the war with Iran and debates about the "Shield of the Americas," Brazilian authors are not so much arguing whether the US is "right" as discussing whether Brazil is ready for a new wave of dependence — economic through tariffs and energy markets, and political through regional initiatives under the American umbrella.
A distinct viewpoint opens through the 2026 Cuba crisis, which Brazilian sources directly link to American policy: they emphasize that it was precisely US intervention in Venezuela and the blocking of Venezuelan oil supplies to Cuba that triggered the island's economic and political crisis, and that Washington openly stated its intention to "achieve regime change in Havana by the end of 2026." (pt.wikipedia.org) The fact that, in these conditions, humanitarian aid to Cuba is coming from Mexico while oil support comes from Russia is used by Brazilian analysts as an example: if the US unilaterally redraws the Caribbean energy map, Latin America needs to seek its own autonomous chains of mutual assistance.
Against this background, Turkey views the US through a different prism — geographically closer to the battlefields and economically very sensitive to any shifts in the Iranian and wider Middle Eastern equation. In Turkish reviews of the global economy, the US and its allies' war with Iran figures primarily as a factor influencing commodity prices: analysts at Istanbul brokerage houses note that news that Washington and Tehran were discussing ceasefire terms through intermediaries contributed to rises in platinum and palladium quotations on expectations of "a weakening of geopolitical risks." (gcmyatirim.com.tr) For the Turkish business press the US is a key "risk regulator" in commodity markets: certain formulations from Washington — prices soar; others — the market "switches to a mode of hope."
But behind the dry stock‑market lines lies a more emotional political perspective. In Turkish analytical texts on regional security it is often emphasized that the level of American military concentration in the region is now comparable to preparations for the 2003 Iraq war. (pt.wikipedia.org) This evokes déjà vu among some Turkish commentators: the country again becomes a transport, intelligence and logistics hub for a major US operation, while retaining deep distrust of American aims — especially after recent episodes when Ankara accused Washington of supporting Kurdish forces in Syria and of ambiguous behavior regarding the Black Sea region.
Saudi and other Gulf voices, unlike the Turkish ones, focus more on how the US in this war combines "hard power" and "market diplomacy." In an Al‑Riyadh piece on rising oil prices it is stressed that it was precisely the "fear of escalation between the US and Iran" that spurred hedge funds and traders to mass purchases of Brent options, and analysts say that to prevent a market surplus in 2027 OPEC+ will have to cut production by up to 2 million barrels per day. (alriyadh.com) Thus the US, by its actions in the Persian Gulf, effectively forces exporters into collective juggling with supply. In the Saudi discourse this is presented without direct accusations but with a clear hint: even when we profit from high prices, it is a "feast during the plague" against the backdrop of risks to the global economy and our own diversification plans.
If the military and energy components of American policy are most often presented in Ankara, Riyadh and Brasília as a threat or, at best, a risky factor, Washington's economic measures — tariffs, sanctions, regulations — provoke a more complex mix of irritation and pragmatism. In Brazil the 2025 experience is still fresh, when under the slogan of "protecting its industry" the US imposed 10% tariffs on a range of Brazilian goods while criticizing Brazil for purportedly worsening human rights and the Supreme Court's heavy‑handed measures against social networks. (pt.wikipedia.org) Brazilian experts pointed out that it was the US that ran a trade surplus with Brazil, and saw Washington's rhetoric as an attempt to justify protectionism with talk of "democracy" and "freedom of speech." This lesson is directly carried into today's discussion of the "Shield of the Americas": if the US is ready to punish Brazil economically for its domestic political narratives, why wouldn't it use the new security initiative to press on issues such as China's presence in Latin America?
The Turkish economic discourse is less focused on bilateral tariffs with the US, but repeatedly returns to dollar dependence. In reviews of Turkey's currency and commodity markets, the dollar's exchange rate against the lira and other regional currencies is cited as the main barometer, and Fed decisions and US macro data are directly linked to the resilience of Turkish growth. (terayatirim.com) In this sense for the Turkish audience the US is not only a military power but also the issuer of the world reserve currency, through which Ankara experiences both pressure (via higher costs of external debt) and opportunities (via inflows of portfolio investment). The current war with Iran and the associated rise in the risk premium on emerging markets make this duality especially acute.
In the Gulf countries the economic angle is even more tightly bound to the oil agenda. Saudi analytical pieces openly say that regional GDP of the GCC countries in 2026, according to Western institutions' estimates, may even slightly shrink despite high prices, because: first, uncertainty persists around the US and Israel's war with Iran and its impact on energy supplies; and second, production limits and problems with tourism hit the economy. (alriyadh.com) In these calculations the US is both the main risk (as a military player) and the main partner (as a market for hydrocarbons and an investor).
In the Brazilian view the economic role of the US is particularly acute through the Cuba and Venezuela cases. If the anti‑Iran campaign is for Brazil primarily a "foreign" region, the American intervention in Venezuela and the resulting energy crisis in Cuba are perceived as a direct demonstration of how far Washington is prepared to go in using energy as a tool of political pressure in Latin America. (pt.wikipedia.org) The fact that Latin America's response has not been a consolidated regional policy but piecemeal steps by Mexico and others only heightens concern: if the region does not consolidate, the US will continue to act by a "divide and rule" scheme — through tariffs, sanctions, blocking supplies and new security initiatives.
Interestingly, in the Saudi and broader Arab discourse on the US war with Iran a significant role is played by the media theme and the "hierarchy of suffering." In one Al‑Riyadh column the logic of the global news market is analyzed: why attention to long conflicts like Ukraine falls as soon as a new "hot" episode involving the US and Israel begins, and how commercial media follow what is easier to sell to audiences, creating the impression that older wars have somehow "ended." (alriyadh.com) The author warns: when American strikes on Iran occupy the front pages, it does not mean suffering in other regions has decreased — simply that footage from there has become less commercially profitable. This is a subtle but tangible critique of the Americentricity of the global media space, where Washington sets not only the agenda but also the "degree of humanitarianism."
For Brazil the key storyline is less about how the US shapes the global media picture and more about how the American narrative of "democracy and human rights" is used to interfere in the internal affairs of countries in the region. Discussing the American report on alleged deterioration of human rights in Brazil and the blocking of social networks, Brazilian commentators point out that Washington readily cooperates with authoritarian regimes when that aligns with its energy and military interests, and urge treating such assessments as instruments of political bargaining. (pt.wikipedia.org) In this sense the current war with Iran and American promises to "bring peace by force" only deepen skepticism: if in the Persian Gulf Washington justifies strikes as "protection from a nuclear threat," what would stop it tomorrow from calling "populist governments" a threat in Latin America and acting just as harshly?
The Turkish public traditionally interprets American "democratic" rhetoric through the lens of its own experience — whether pressure around the judiciary and media freedom, or the broader conflict over the roles of Ankara and Washington in Syria and the South Caucasus. Against the backdrop of the current war with Iran, some Turkish commentators see US statements about "protecting world stability" as a continuation of an old tradition: values as language, interests as the real motivation. Parallels with Iraq 2003 — from the decision to move carrier groups to the region to discussions of "changing the behavior" of the Iranian regime — are drawn in Turkish texts almost in plain language. (pt.wikipedia.org) The difference is that today Ankara is much more careful in crafting its own line, trying both to preserve channels with Washington and not to burn bridges with Tehran and Moscow.
The result is a multilayered picture. For Turkey the US is primarily a military and financial power whose actions in the war with Iran and on energy markets can both undermine and support the Turkish economy and Ankara's regional role. For Saudi Arabia and the Gulf, America is the main partner in security and energy, but also a source of permanent risk — every movement of US carrier groups and every phrase from the White House is written into oil prices and Riyadh's budget forecasts. For Brazil the US is both an economic opponent using tariffs and human rights as arguments in trade disputes, and a geopolitical architect that, through the "Shield of the Americas" and sanctions against Cuba and Venezuela, is rewriting the rules of the game in the Western Hemisphere.
A common motif heard in all three countries is fatigue with a world where Washington's decision to start or end a war, to impose a tariff or lift sanctions automatically changes the future of millions far beyond the US. But behind this fatigue there are no illusions: Turkey, Saudi Arabia and Brazil fully understand they cannot simply "switch America off" from their equations. Therefore their publics and elites are learning to speak of the US both as a problem and as a resource — criticizing the war with Iran while valuing every hint of a ceasefire; protesting tariffs while trying to fit into new American projects; warning of a "broader war" while relying on American security guarantees.
That ambivalence is the main conclusion from today's Turkish, Saudi and Brazilian reactions to the US. In their eyes Washington has long ceased to be either "leader of the free world" or "main imperialist"; it has become an inevitable parameter that is simultaneously feared, used, contested and listened to — because its decisions directly determine whether tomorrow will cost more at the pump, be safer on the streets and be more stable in their own capitals.
