It’s becoming increasingly clear that in Anchorage, Alaska — where Putin and Trump posed for the photo-op dubbed “The Great Ice Reconciliation” — what really met were two immovable forces. One, the Jupiter-like figure who devours everything in his path (only to chip his teeth on the salad of America’s Deep State); the other, a man buoyed by imperial history and a boundless alliance with the Great Dragon in the East.

While the two superpowers duel by proxy in Ukraine, Europe’s voice sounds like the everyday howl of José Arcadio Buendía — the founder of Macondo in García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude — bound to the tree in his courtyard by his weary wife, Úrsula Iguarán. Today, no one wants to play Úrsula’s part — the prudent spouse trying to keep an old madman from tearing the world apart.

Europe is coming undone. And nothing could please Putin more. He’s conquering it without firing a single shot. And yet, in the dark corners of Brussels politics, plans are slowly brewing: from shipping state-of-the-art weapons to Ukraine, to deploying “peacekeeping” forces. Still, no one wants to commit their own troops. It seems the dreaded task may befall Romania – something is being set in motionfor our soldiers.

In the Oval Office, Donald Trump has already lined his refrigerators with magnets commemorating his twelve peace deals. Meanwhile, Vladimir Putin is petting his dogs at his Novo-Ogaryovo residence, a Moscow suburb, lying in tranquil expectation. He knows even God took his time building the world. Trump, on the other hand, is pressed for time — perhaps towards securing a Nobel. But the difference between the two is just on the surface – both men share a hidden agenda: building their war economies. They must have read Hjalmar Schacht — the brilliant German economist who once advised the Führer to slow arms production for a while and instead boost exports. Through his famous tariffs and American protectionism, that’s precisely what Trump seeks: a surge in exports to plug the deficit. He pointlessly scolds Narendra Modi, India’s Prime Minister Modi, demanding he stop refining Russian oil — as if hydrocarbons came stamped with national flags.

Putin, on his part, has already grabbed his big prize: Crimea, Kharkiv, Donetsk.

Of all the global players, Europe seems the most restless. Maybe it’s because American progressives have channeled their money here. Maybe it’s because the military–industrial complex has simply moved house to the old continent. One underlying trait of Trump’s dealings with the EU is providing a steady revenue flow to American defense contractors. A third of the so-called SAFE rearmament fund ends up in U.S. accounts, despite all the early promises. Trump understandsbudgets the way a merchant feels the weight of a coin. He arranges his “peace magnets” strategically — and quietly orders the CIA to stir up special operations in Venezuela. And for what? To spook Russia and China, to push them out of South America.

And yet — if Anchorage wasn’t the place where the world’s balance of power was redrawn, why do the conflicts between the BRICS nations and the U.S.A. still smolder on? Because both superpowers — now more polycentric than ever — are cashing in on war. On arms budgets. On carving up new spheres of influence.

Trump and Putin resemble two gamecocks in the pit. The image looks ceremonial, almost votive, but there’s nothing sacred about their pact — only sharpened spurs.

In truth, the planet might be bored stiff if they hadn’t agreed to disagree.

The much-anticipated Pentagon report on America’s military presence in Europe keeps getting postponed. The White House is expecting the defense budgets of all 32 NATO members. Across the table, the new Tsar is playing for time — selling enough gas and oil to the West through intermediaries, guided by the principle that no fuel molecule carries national insignia.

Trump puts on the mask of anger with Modi, but the nervous flicker in his smile cracks the façade. He seems to know that at Sharm el-Sheikh, he struck too loud a chord for peace. Still, he trusts that, like the tide, time will wash away all doubts and leave only the fresh imprint of hope.

Meanwhile, in the background, another scenario is being written — one where the Romanian army crosses into the Republic of Moldova after a false-flag incident in Transnistria – Stalin’s poisoned pawn to Chișinău, a power plant masquerading as a gift. Maia Sandu’s fief — dubbed Soros’s Republic by her critics — has no army of its own. Therefore, Moldova is bound to call for “brotherly assistance”.

Across Europe, propaganda machines are priming the public with fear of Russia — a psychological trick meant to keep EU citizens in a state of vigilance. In Bucharest, the Chief of General Staff goes on television almost every day, insisting that Romania is already under hybrid attack from the Russian Federation. No one quite knows what he means. Over ten thousand reservists have been called back to their units. Even military journals are mocking the drills: soldiers were handed old Soviet rifles in shotting ranges and were told to return their boots unsoiled. Bottom line – the political officers in the army are fanning panic. One intelligence officer confides that several colleagues have already made up their minds: if ordered to cross the border, they’ll turn their weapons on other targets within the state apparatus. Every soldier swore an oath to defend the nation’s borders — not to go adventuring beyond them. The ghost of Marshal Ion Antonescu’s mistake still haunts the barracks: crossing the Dniester, marching with the Wehrmacht to Stalingrad, fighting a war that was never Romania’s.

But why stage a spark in Transnistria? Qui prodest? – the Romans would ask. The top concern for Ukraine’s allies is to keep Odesa standing. Were Russia to seizethis vital Black Sea gateway, Ukraine would lose its window to the sea – andRussia would stand just 400 kilometers from the Mihail Kogălniceanu air base, NATO’s eastern perch.

“If you have enough patience to sit on the riverbank, one day you will see your enemy’s corpse float past”, muses Xi Jinping, echoing an ancient Chinese proverb.

A Romanian writer of genius once said of Europeans: “Time has no patience”.

by Marius Ghilezan