At the start of 2026, the United States again became the central stage for political debates far beyond Washington, but how the events are viewed in France, Turkey and Russia differs significantly. Donald Trump’s second presidency, his ultimatums to Ukraine, the escalation of the Greenland crisis and the large‑scale US withdrawal from a number of international agreements have become the lens through which various countries are rethinking not only America but their own place in the world. For some this confirms long‑standing fears, for others — a window of opportunity, and for others — a risk of being left alone with regional crises.
A key recurring theme in all three countries has been Ukraine: attitudes toward Washington’s new line in the war with Russia, toward the idea of a “deal,” and toward the notion that the United States no longer wants to be the guarantor of the postwar order. The Greenland story is no less notable — attempts by the US to increase control over the strategic island are seen in Europe as a challenge and in Russia as a sign of a long‑term Arctic game. Finally, attention has focused on Trump’s memorandum to withdraw the US from dozens of international organizations and treaties: in some places it is seen as the definitive collapse of the “liberal order,” in others — as a chance to occupy the vacated spaces.
One of the most discussed topics in the French and Russian press has been the war in Ukraine and the American attempt to force Kyiv into elections and a peace on terms involving territorial concessions. French L’Express, drawing on Financial Times reporting, examines the American ultimatum in detail: at Donald Trump’s demand, Kyiv must hold presidential elections and submit a peace agreement with Russia to a referendum that would include ceding Donetsk and Luhansk no later than 15 May 2026 — otherwise American security guarantees are threatened. The outlet emphasizes that Washington wants “to close the Ukrainian file by summer in order to focus on the November domestic elections,” and explains that for Paris this creates an extremely awkward fork in the road: either follow Washington, or try to build its own, more long‑term strategy of supporting Kyiv, risking an open conflict with a NATO ally. (lexpress.fr)
The French intellectual press goes beyond dry description and sees this move as a symptom of a deeper transformation in American foreign policy. For example, in Desk Russie one author, analyzing the evolution of the American line from the 1994 Budapest Memorandum to today, writes that Trump’s demand to effectively turn military assistance to Ukraine into a paid service is “more than a betrayal of the Ukrainians, who in 1994 took Washington’s security guarantees seriously in exchange for nuclear disarmament.” The author stresses that such transactional logic undermines the very idea of nuclear non‑proliferation: future vulnerable states will conclude that without their own nuclear shield “great power guarantees are worth little.” (desk-russie.eu)
In the Russian expert discourse the same Washington line is read very differently — as a long‑awaited window of opportunity. Le Grand Continent publishes an interview with Russian international relations specialist Oleg Barabanov, presented there as “a translation of a conversation for Argumenty i Fakty.” Barabanov, an EU security policy specialist, argues that the current US is increasingly ideologically “converging with Russia” and that the Kremlin might view as advantageous a scenario in which Europe continues to support Ukraine without direct American cover. He points out that in terms of financial aid and arms deliveries the EU already surpasses Washington, and draws the provocative conclusion: “Brussels could quite well replace the United States in Ukraine” — except in the field of space reconnaissance. At the same time the Russian expert doubts whether European societies are ready for a long, costly war and whether this would not fuel the rise of anti‑system parties. (legrandcontinent.eu)
Thus a curious triangle of perception is taking shape. Paris sees American fatigue with Ukraine as a threat to the very foundation of European security and simultaneously as a chance to prove that the continent can act independently. Moscow, by contrast, is counting on a rift between Washington and Brussels and hopes that Europe will not be ready to fully replace the US — normalization of relations between Russia and America would also please the Kremlin. Turkish press, where Ukraine issues are traditionally viewed through the prism of NATO, the Black Sea region and the grain deal, often interprets Washington’s new gestures as an invitation to Ankara to bargain: if the US reduces direct engagement, Turkey’s value as a mediator and a regional power center rises. Turkish analytical columns on “Trump’s America” emphasize the transactional character of the new policy: this is a partner who will demand “concrete payment” from allies, but who is also prepared to turn a blind eye to their internal peculiarities so long as they do not interfere with his deal.
The second major storyline, discussed differently but very emotionally in France and Russia, is the Greenland crisis. For the French and wider European press, US claims on Greenland are not just an exotic whim of Trump but part of a larger geopolitical game in the Arctic, where control over new sea lanes, resources and military infrastructure is at stake. Russian sources are particularly detailed here: a Russian‑language article on “US Claims on Greenland” describes how after his 2024 reelection Trump made possession of Greenland an “absolute necessity” for national security and threatened to impose “very high” tariffs against Denmark if it resisted. The text analyzes the failure of diplomatic talks on 14 January 2026 at the White House with the foreign ministers of Denmark and Greenland and the subsequent decision by several countries to send troops to the island, which prompted a new round of Trump’s threats about additional tariffs. (ru.wikipedia.org)
The broader European context is this: Greenland is perceived as a “laboratory” for how the US will treat its allies in the Trump‑2 era. Unlike the classic rhetoric of “shared values” and the “transatlantic community,” the current White House speaks the language of pressure, trade and unilateral proclamations of “vital interests.” French commentary evokes comparisons with interwar policies, when great powers attempted to redraw the map in their favor using economic and military pressure. Notably, Trump himself, speaking at the World Economic Forum in Davos on 21 January 2026, was forced to publicly assure that the US “will not use military force to establish control over Greenland” and that a “basis for a future agreement” with NATO had been reached. The European Union in these debates most often appears as a cautious player: it is important for the EU not to allow the Greenland conflict to split NATO or to become a precedent in which Washington can pressure individual European countries with tariffs and threats, forcing territorial deals. (ru.wikipedia.org)
Russian commentators, for their part, see in the Greenland story above all confirmation that the Arctic is becoming the main theater of long‑term great‑power rivalry. If for Paris and Copenhagen the issue is about sovereignty and solidarity within the EU and NATO, in Moscow it is read as a struggle for control over future logistical routes and resources, in which Russia and the US will be the principal rivals and Europe will find itself in between. Russian analyses emphasize that an increased American presence in Greenland is both a challenge and a justification for further militarization of Russia’s North and for deepening cooperation with China in the Arctic.
The third major block of discussion concerns the broader transformation of the US role in the world. In France this is often framed by the question: “Are the United States withdrawing from the role of architect of the international order and becoming simply another great power pursuing transactional interests?” Think tanks like Fondation pour la Recherche Stratégique have for several years warned that Washington is rethinking its defense strategy based on lessons from Ukraine and growing competition with China, and that Europe should prepare for a world where American protection is less automatic and more conditional. (frstrategie.org)
Trump’s memorandum of 7 January 2026 on immediate US withdrawal from dozens of international conventions and agencies — from UN structures to climate agreements — became for many European and Turkish observers a symbol of a final rupture with the era of “liberal internationalism.” Russian accounts of Trump’s political biography note that the move involves 31 structures, including notably the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change, and that the administration presents the step as a restoration of America’s “full sovereignty.” (ru.wikipedia.org)
French and Turkish commentary interprets this step in two ways. On one hand, as a serious blow to global governance — from climate to health, where without the US it is impossible to marshal the critical mass of resources and political will. On the other hand, as a spur to regionalization: the EU is discussing how to strengthen its own climate and health coordination mechanisms, Turkey is eyeing opportunities to maneuver between Western and Eastern formats, and Russia and China see a chance to accelerate the creation of alternative institutions less dependent on Washington. In the Russian discourse around the book by journalists Jake Tapper and Alex Thompson, “Original Sin,” about Joe Biden’s decline and its concealment by his circle, the conclusion is even sharper: for part of the Russian audience contemporary America is a country whose elites have lost control over the political process, and allies can no longer be confident either in the stability of US policy or in the competence of its leaders. (ru.wikipedia.org)
A particular interest in all three countries is the purely “transactional” component of the new American policy — a vivid example, besides the Ukrainian ultimatum, is the agreement on Ukrainian natural resources and a reconstruction fund. French Wikipedia, relying on English‑language press materials, describes in detail the “Mineral Resources Agreement between Ukraine and the United States,” under which a joint investment fund is created and Ukraine agrees to transfer up to 50% of future revenues from state natural resources to it. As French authors recall, Trump initially tied continued American aid directly to access to Ukrainian rare earths, hydrocarbons and uranium, and the agreement itself is being discussed in Kyiv and European capitals as a way to “thank” and “compensate” Washington for the volume of aid already provided. (fr.wikipedia.org)
In France this provokes mixed feelings: on the one hand, it is acknowledged that without long‑term investments of this kind the physical reconstruction of Ukraine will be extremely difficult; on the other hand, there are fears that Ukraine risks becoming a semi‑dependent raw‑material appendage of the US. Russian commentators, conversely, use this as evidence that the West is fighting Russia “for resources” rather than for principles, and interpret the agreement as a form of “neocolonial exploitation.” In Turkey the resource dimension of the conflict resonates with Ankara’s own ambitions in the Black Sea and the Eastern Mediterranean: some Turkish commentators urge Ankara to more actively offer its services for postwar reconstruction, not wanting to concede all future contracts to American and European corporations.
A common motif is noticeable across all three countries: America is no longer perceived as an unconditional guarantor of values or security, but it remains a central actor without whom no large power configuration is possible. The French debate revolves around how to turn this situation into a stimulus for Europe’s strategic autonomy — while avoiding a final break with the US. The Russian debate is about how to use Washington’s “reorientation” and fatigue with European problems to consolidate its gains in Ukraine and strengthen positions in the Arctic and the Global South. The Turkish debate centers on the idea that in an era of transactional, fragmented America the importance of middle‑weight regional powers grows — those that can simultaneously bargain with Washington, Moscow, Brussels and Beijing.
All these different viewpoints converge on one point: Donald Trump’s second term has become a convenient — if alarming — reason to rethink the very category of “the West” and the role of the US within it. In Paris, Ankara and Moscow people increasingly no longer write about “American leadership” as something taken for granted, but about competing centers of power in which the US is only the most powerful, but no longer the sole architect of the rules. And it will be precisely how Washington conducts itself in the Ukrainian conflict, in the Greenland dispute and on the issue of international institutions in the coming months that will determine whether America in the eyes of these countries becomes the main guarantor of a new order — or its main catalyst for disintegration.
