In early April 2026, American policy again became a central topic on the editorial pages in Seoul, Rio de Janeiro and Paris — but not through the usual narratives about democracy or elections, rather through the war with Iran, the threat of the Strait of Hormuz being closed, and a crisis of confidence in Washington’s alliance commitments. The US is simultaneously seen as an indispensable military pillar, a source of economic turbulence and a strategic actor growing less predictable under Donald Trump’s leadership. Against this backdrop each country projects its own fears and calculations onto America: South Korea — through the prism of the alliance and pressure over Iran; Brazil — through economic risks and the dilemma of distancing versus rapprochement; France — through European autonomy and the cost of dependence on American power.
The most sensitive nerve everywhere is the US and Israeli war against Iran and the related "Hormuz crisis." French analysts describe this escalation as a "military and diplomatic vortex" around a strategic node of the global oil market, where the US military buildup since early 2026 is viewed as the main risk factor for Europe, which depends on seaborne hydrocarbon supplies. French studies on energy security explicitly state that closure or narrowing of Hormuz becomes a trigger for stagflation in Europe — a combination of weak growth and sharply rising energy prices — and recent Oxford Economics estimates are cited as justification for how "expensive" the American strategy of forceful deterrence of Iran in the strait becomes for Europeans. This is detailed in an analytical report published by the Brussels center Etopia, which relies on scenarios of a Hormuz blockade and spikes in oil and gas prices that are now part of European agendas not as abstract geopolitics but as drivers of domestic inflation and social tension. As the study emphasizes, any American military decision in Hormuz automatically turns into an economic shock for Europeans, pushing Paris and Brussels toward talks about strategic autonomy, but without illusions about quickly breaking with Washington.
South Korea views the same war differently: not as an energy issue, but as a "test of the alliance." A column in Korea JoongAng Daily states directly that the US–Iran conflict has become a stress test for the Seoul–Washington alliance and a typical case where American expectations of an ally do not match its capabilities and interests. The author reminds readers that Trump publicly scolded Seoul for its reluctance to send warships to the Hormuz area and questioned the value of Korean support relative to Korea's economic benefits from the alliance. The same column notes that despite a record-high level of support for the US alliance in Korean society — Asan Institute polls show about 97% support for the alliance and more than 80% approval of the US troop presence — citizens increasingly distinguish "America as a country" from "Trump as a politician." As The Korea Times notes in its analysis of the recent Asan poll, Koreans largely expect relations with the US to improve in 2026, even though Trump’s personal approval rating remains low; the columnist’s conclusion: a rational society "may dislike Trump, but continues to see the US as the best available option," and is therefore willing to endure discomfort for the sake of the strategic umbrella. At the same time, South Korean commentators stress that the Hormuz crisis is a rehearsal for far more dangerous scenarios related to Taiwan and the South China Sea, where Washington’s pressure on Seoul to "take sides," in their view, would be even tougher.
The French discussion of the war with Iran takes a more academic tone, but the central motif is the same: the US is seen as the main architect of escalation and simultaneously the only force capable of stopping it. An article on the French "Wikipedia" dedicated to the 2026 Hormuz Strait crisis describes the conflict as the culmination of a series of US and Israeli strikes on Iran and Tehran’s retaliatory actions, which led to an effective blockade of the strait and attempts to attack American tankers. The emphasis is that Hormuz is not merely a "foreign" theater of American military power but a key artery for European energy. As a result, French columnists and experts talk less about the moral legitimacy of US actions and more about the need for Europe to develop a policy of "containing dependence": strengthening its navies in the region, diversifying supplies, and negotiating with Gulf states. It is not surprising that Paris both criticizes Trump for unilateral decisions and remains dependent on the American nuclear and intelligence "umbrella" in the region.
In Brazil the reaction is much more emotional: the war is perceived primarily as a factor that "makes North Americans’ lives more expensive," and through that — as a source of global economic instability. A piece on CNN Brasil analyzes how the conflict with Iran and rising oil prices and US bond yields translate into higher mortgage and credit card rates for Americans, which in turn affects expectations for the Fed rate and investment flows in global markets. Economists quoted by the network warn that a protracted war could mean sustained high rates and, consequently, a stronger dollar for countries like Brazil that depend on external financing. Brazilian commentators connect this to the domestic agenda: a strong dollar, they write, means more expensive imports for Brazil, pressure on inflation, and an additional headache for the Central Bank.
At the same time, a sharp moral and political critique of American tactics is heard in Brazil’s intellectual space. In a republication of an editorial from the Catholic magazine America on the Instituto Humanitas Unisinos website, the authors condemn Trump’s rhetoric — threatening to bomb all of Iran’s energy and transport infrastructure if it does not open Hormuz — as a violation of basic principles of international humanitarian law: "Treating an entire country’s infrastructure as a lawful military objective contradicts all conventions on the conduct of war." The piece also states that the "unjust and unwarranted" US–Israeli war against Iran achieves none of its declared goals — from limiting nuclear ambitions to protecting populations from repression. Brazilian editors, citing American authors, thereby construct an image of Washington as a power that has lost strategic clarity and shifted to demonstrative violence.
Interestingly, some Brazilian commentary focuses not on traditional leftist anti‑Americanism but on disillusionment within the American right itself. A piece posted by the Portuguese-language service of Xinhua quotes Democratic Senator Tim Kaine saying the administration failed to present even classified evidence of an "imminent threat" from Iran to justify a strike, and political scientist Christopher Galdieri claiming that "it appears there are no internal brakes in the administration that could stop Trump from following his worst instincts." For a Brazilian audience, these quotes function as confirmation: even within the US the conservative MAGA wing is beginning to see intervention in Iran as a mistake, so this is not merely "anti‑Trump" rhetoric from liberals. Overall, American policy looks from Brazil like a source of external instability to be hedged against economically, but one that cannot be ignored.
Another major thread connecting the three countries is the crisis of trust in US alliance commitments and the problem of Trump’s "transactionalism" toward allies. This is most acute in South Korea. An Asia Times column on the "alliance dilemma" emphasizes that the Korea–US alliance has always differed from the classic "ward–patron" model in that Seoul invested significant resources in joint efforts, from the Vietnam War to current operations. The author recalls that South Korean troops participated in American wars and often did not receive the recognition they deserved. Against this background, Trump’s present demands — from increasing Seoul’s financial share in hosting US troops to sending ships to Hormuz — are perceived as crude "transactionalism" in which history and mutual sacrifice mean nothing and the alliance’s value is measured solely by present payments and willingness to risk for another’s agenda.
Korea Times, analyzing recent Asan Institute polls, notes an interesting paradox: record support for the alliance alongside growing anxiety about the US’s "long-term reliability." The paper highlights that nearly 75% of Koreans see the US as their main economic partner, about 64% as the key security partner, but in discussions of Russia and China the term "alternative centers of power" increasingly appears, forcing Seoul to navigate between them. The columnist summarizes the mood: "South Koreans have become more realistic, if not less anxious," and the main challenge for Seoul’s policy is to "trust America but prepare for a future in which trusting it will be harder." This formula shows how deeply the Iran conflict and Trump’s attacks on allies penetrate Korean domestic debate over whether to develop its own nuclear capability, strengthen ties with the EU, or seek new balances with China.
In France similar questions about US reliability are asked in a European context. In a series of pieces on the war with Iran and the strengthening of American military presence, France and the EU discuss not only energy risks but NATO’s strategic future. A Portuguese-language Europeantimes publication on the "fragile truce" between the US and Iran quotes the American president musing about possibly leaving NATO and accusing the alliance of having "failed the exam" and "not being there when needed" after the war with Iran began. European audiences perceive this rhetoric as far more consequential than the usual blackmail about 2% of GDP on defense: they see the very principle of mutual defense at stake. In response, French analysts in institutions like the European Council on Foreign Relations call for deepening defense cooperation with partners beyond NATO, including South Korea, and for creating mechanisms to "insure against the White House" if it someday deems European interests secondary. A recent ECFR report explicitly states that Europe and South Korea in the "Trump era" need each other as mutual hedging instruments against the unpredictability of American policy.
The Brazilian perspective differs in that Brazil is not a military ally of the US and thus views the NATO and Asian alliance crises more distantly. In Brazilian texts the key motif is not "how to save the alliance" but "how not to become hostage to others’ alliances." When Brazilian analysts describe Trump’s disputes with NATO and pressure on South Korea and Japan, they see confirmation of their long-held doctrine of strategic autonomy: Global South countries should not tie their security and economy to the will of a single superpower, especially if that superpower is willing to use tariffs, sanctions and military force as tools of domestic politics. Therefore, although Brazil is unlikely to be drawn into war via collective defense mechanisms, its experts and diplomats closely watch how the US treats allies — an indicator of how ready Washington is to respect or ignore the interests of countries without formal pacts with it.
Finally, a cross-cutting theme for all three countries is domestic tension in American politics and its effect on the image of the US as a "normative" power. For South Korean audiences events in the US — from internal conflicts over Trump to protests against the war with Iran — serve as a reminder that alliance reliability depends not only on geopolitics but also on the resilience of American democracy. Korean newspapers covering Congressional debates over the president’s war powers regarding Iran note that resistance to "unchecked foreign policy" is growing even inside the US. This is used as an argument for Seoul not to follow Washington blindly but to actively engage with American public opinion, academic circles and Congress to explain Korea’s positions on North Korea and China.
Brazilian outlets, republishing and reworking Western material, emphasize that the war with Iran splits the American conservative coalition itself: part of the MAGA movement, authors note, is unhappy with a "foreign war" that does not fit the America First slogan and sees the conflict as an Israel-driven adventure. This matters for Brazilian audiences, where left and right skepticism toward the US has a long history: the argument "even their own conservatives oppose it" legitimizes criticism of Washington without reducing it to mere anti-Americanism.
In France the domestic American polarization and the possibility of Trump pulling out of NATO provoke a more pragmatic anxiety: if the US once again changes president and course, Europe risks being trapped between inconsistent American "interventionism without strategy" and an aggressive Russia while remaining dependent on Hormuz and other chokepoints of the global economy. Thus the French debate is increasingly less about moral judgment of the US and more about how to live in a world where Washington remains a key actor but is no longer a reliably "order‑keeping" guardian.
The composite picture is this: in Seoul America is still by and large seen as an indispensable ally, but there is growing talk of the need for a "Plan B" should Trump’s transactionalism undermine the alliance’s foundations. In Brazil the US is perceived as a source of economic shocks and politico‑moral dilemmas, yet also as the inevitable center of the global financial system to which one must adapt. In France the US is viewed both as a guarantor of European security and as the main producer of strategic crises — from Hormuz to Kyiv — forcing Europe to pay, in its own experience, for Washington’s use of force.
It is the war with Iran and the Hormuz crisis that today weave these different national perspectives into a common knot: for South Korea it is an exam of alliance fidelity, for Brazil a lesson about the cost of dependence on the dollar economy and volatile oil prices, for France a reminder that European security and energy remain tightly linked to decisions made in Washington. As a result, the US remains at the center of the international agenda, but increasingly not as the undisputed leader of the "free world," rather as a powerful but dangerously unpredictable partner that must be simultaneously supported, restrained and insured against.
