Well, hell. Here we go again—dancing on the nuclear tripwire with the grace of a rhinoceros in a tutu.
Today, Donald Trump—commander of all that he surveys, including apparently basic naval doctrine—announced with great fanfare that he’s sending two nuclear submarines to patrol off Russia. As if the United States hasn’t been running silent and deep since before disco died. As if those boats haven’t already been there, armed to the teeth and whisper-quiet, since Kennedy had to stare down Khrushchev over Cuba.
It’s like declaring you’ve decided to set your alarm clock… after you’ve already woken up, dressed, and made coffee. The announcement is performative nonsense, broadcast not for Moscow’s benefit, but for Trump’s base—red meat delivered on a silver platter of ignorance. We already had submarines near Russia. We always have. That’s the whole damn idea.
Strategic deterrence is not supposed to be a PR stunt. It’s supposed to be the cold, quiet insurance policy of the free world. You don’t wave your subs around like a toddler brandishing a sparkler on the Fourth of July. You let the other guy worry about where they are.
If this déjà vu feels familiar, that’s because it is. Back in 2017, Trump declared he was sending an “armada” to North Korea. Turned out, the USS Carl Vinson was headed in the opposite direction—sailing around the Indian Ocean while the White House chest-thumped and confused its own Pentagon. It was geopolitical slapstick: declare, bungle, deny, spin.
And while we’re at it, let’s talk about August—because if you’ve read Barbara Tuchman’s The Guns of August, you know what happens when bluff turns into blunder. Europe sleepwalked into World War I because its leaders played a dangerous game of chest-thumping and chain-reactions. Mobilizations were made not to fight but to signal resolve—until the signals became bullets. Nobody planned for catastrophe, but they damn sure got one.
Fast-forward to 1962. John F. Kennedy, a Navy man himself, faced down the Cuban Missile Crisis by refusing to grandstand. He didn’t tweet out threats or announce submarine deployments for show. He listened, calculated, and understood what “miscalculation” really meant when nukes were on the table. The Joint Chiefs wanted to bomb Havana. Kennedy quietly opted for a blockade—and bought the world a future.
Trump? He doesn’t do quiet. He doesn’t read history. He doesn’t grasp the peril of announcing nuclear moves like they’re part of a mid-season ratings sweep. He’s out here playing 5D chess with a checkerboard and a Sharpie, and the pieces he’s moving are Ohio-class submarines.
The Russians, for all their faults—and Lord knows they have many—understand signaling. They live off it. Medvedev rattles the Dead Hand saber, and Trump responds by doing what we already do, only now with a press release and a wink. It’s geopolitical karaoke, and everyone’s off-key.
Here’s the bottom line: nuclear strategy is not reality TV. You don’t get credit for doing what’s already been done for sixty years. And you sure as hell don’t pull Kennedy’s trigger with August’s blindfold on.
But here we are—again—with a President confusing deterrence with drama, and a planet that gets a little more anxious every time someone mistakes the launch codes for a bullhorn.
History has warned us, again and again. The Guns of August echo for a reason. The question is whether anyone in power still hears them—or whether the submarine show is just the overture to something far worse.