The fourth round of nuclear talks between Iran and the United States concluded Sunday in Muscat, Oman after a one-week delay. Many observers saw the postponement as a result of the Trump administration’s contradictory approach and lack of a clear endgame.
Just two days before the talks, U.S. envoy Steve Witkoff gave an interview to Breitbart, seeming to suggest “zero enrichment” as the administration’s red line and calling for the dismantlement of Iran’s core nuclear facilities. This maximalist stance stood in contrast with more measured comments by President Trump, who recently said the United States had "not yet decided" whether Iran could retain a civilian nuclear program. Vice President J.D. Vance struck a similarly ambiguous tone at a recent conference in Europe.
These conflicting messages have added to the uncertainty surrounding Washington’s true objectives and raised questions about whether it seeks a viable diplomatic outcome or is preparing for confrontation.
Meanwhile, ahead of Sunday’s talks, Iran’s Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi reaffirmed that uranium enrichment is a national red line. He cited the blood of Iranian scientists as the price paid for this right, and warned that the contradictory messages from Washington — one message inside the negotiating room and another in public — are undermining trust.
Regional dynamics are also complicating the path forward. Trump’s push for a negotiated outcome is increasingly at odds with Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu, who is continuing to advocate for military strikes. Israel sees any deal that allows Iran to retain enrichment capabilities as a strategic defeat.
At the same time, Trump is preparing for a high-stakes trip to the Arabian Peninsula, where he hopes to secure investment deals with countries like Saudi Arabia and the UAE. These governments have made clear their desire to develop civilian nuclear programs. If the United States recognizes Iran’s right to enrichment, it may find itself in the uncomfortable position of denying that same right to its Arab partners. In this context, the administration’s hardline rhetoric ahead of the Muscat talks may have been aimed not only at Tehran, but also at Riyadh and Abu Dhabi.
The result is a negotiating approach that appears reactive and shaped more by political optics than strategic clarity. The Muscat talks may have kept diplomacy alive for now, but without a coherent and realistic endgame from Washington, the chances for a lasting agreement will diminish.
Sina Toossi is a non-resident fellow at the Center for International Politics. Previously he was senior research analyst at the National Iranian American Council, and a research specialist at Princeton University’s Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs.
Top image credit: Iran's Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi is welcomed by an unidentified Omani official upon his arrival in Muscat, Oman, May 11, 2025. Iranian Foreign Ministry/WANA (West Asia News Agency)/Handout via REUTERS
Is the trade war launched by Donald Trump the act of a madman or a mad genius?
To the extent Trump’s tariffs are a “negotiating strategy,” as Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent has claimed, are critics missing that they are simply part of the “art of the deal” that will enable America to gain coercive leverage over other states? According to the madman theory of international politics, it is possible Trump’s gambit has a strategic logic. However, there is a crucial flaw with this strategy that will likely cause it to fail.
The madman theory was developed in the nuclear weapons era by the scholars Daniel Ellsberg(the leaker of the Pentagon Papers) and Thomas Schelling (who won the Nobel Prize in economics). Its logic is that some threats, such as launching a nuclear attack against a nuclear-armed opponent, inherently lack credibility because carrying them out would be irrational in that it would cause both the target state and the threatening state great pain. However, if the leader making the threat is perceived as irrational or crazy, then the threat may actually be believable, and the target could decide that backing down to avoid punishment is the prudent option.
As Richard Nixon said in a private oval office discussion with his chief of staff in 1968:
“I call it the Madman Theory, Bob. I want the North Vietnamese to believe that I’ve reached the point that I might do anything to stop the war. We’ll just slip the word to them that ‘for God’s sake, you know Nixon is obsessed about Communism. We can’t restrain him when he is angry—and he has his hand on the nuclear button’—and Ho Chi Minh himself will be in Paris in two days begging for peace.”
Trump’s tariff strategy may follow a similar logic. According to the Yale Budget Lab, Trump’s tariffs could increase prices for the average American household by almost $5,000 just this year. Given the mutual costs Trump’s tariffs involve, his threats may lack credibility on their face, just as many nuclear threats do.
However, to the extent Trump is perceived of as at least somewhat crazy, his threats may be more believable than if he was viewed as rational. In fact, like Nixon, Trump is a self-professed fan of the madman strategy. For example, in a discussion with top cabinet officials regarding the U.S.-South Korea trade deal in 2017, Trump reportedly told Robert Lighthizer, the U.S. Trade Representative:
“You’ve got 30 days, and if you don’t get concessions then I’m pulling out.” “Ok, well I’ll tell the Koreans they’ve got 30 days,” Lighthizer replied. “No, no, no,” Trump interjected. “That’s not how you negotiate. You don’t tell them they’ve got 30 days. You tell them, this guy’s so crazy he could pull out any minute…You tell them if they don’t give the concessions now, this crazy guy will pull out of the deal.”
Trump’s plan to end the U.S.-South Korea Free Trade Agreement in his first term was ultimately foiled by Gary Cohn, his chief economic advisor, who reportedly stole from Trump’s desk a letter that would have made the withdrawal official after Trump signed it. However, with a team of more loyal and pliant advisors installed in his second term, Trump has been able to follow through on his trade war strategy based on the madman theory.
Trump also seems to believe that this strategy is having the intended effect: “I am telling you, these countries are calling us up, kissing my ass. They are dying to make a deal…‘Please, sir, make a deal. I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything sir.’” Indeed, the European Union and countries like Vietnam and Israel have offered to lower trade barriers on American goods in return for the removal of Trump’s tariffs. The U.S. and Britain also just struck a trade deal that ostensibly involves some real, even if limited, concessions by the United Kingdom.
Despite some advantages, however, the madman strategy is far from a panacea and entails significant drawbacks that will likely limit what Trump is able to achieve. One major issue (for which I provided evidence in a peer-reviewed study that conducted surveys of the American public) is that a leader who is perceived as mad is likely to face increasing levels of disapproval among their own domestic public. This can then undermine their bargaining leverage with foreign leaders.
The madman strategy is generally unpopular domestically because the public values competence in leaders, and thus is unlikely to look kindly on a leader it perceives of as actually or potentially crazy. Alexander Hamilton made this argument about John Adams, a member of his own Federalist Party, when discussing the “great and intrinsic defects in his character, which unfit him for the office of Chief Magistrate.”
Richard Nixon said much the same in a private Oval Office conversation in 1973, when he said, “We are never going to have a madman as president, in this office…Ours [system] throws them out…about every four years, if a guy shows that he’s [unclear phrase], out!” That is one key reason why Nixon kept his own attempt to use the madman strategy to convince the Soviets and Vietnamese he was crazy and might use nuclear weapons to win the Vietnam War secret from the American public.
This reasoning helps explain why Trump’s trade war is unpopular domestically. Moreover, well-known psychological biases make average citizens more averse to losses than they are attracted to gains. In the case of a trade war, this means the public is likely to be wary of paying higher prices than they were previously in return for the theoretical promise of greater domestic production in the future. This is especially the case given that Trump’s promises to tame inflation was one of his campaign’s most effective selling points in winning the presidency last fall.
The domestic unpopularity of the madman strategy can undermine a leader’s leverage in negotiations with other states, as foreigners may doubt the leader will have the political capital to enact or maintain the threatened policies in the short, medium, or long term. This is what appears to be happening in the case of Trump’s tariffs, as the strongly negative reaction among the U.S. public and business community—the fact that that, in Trump’s words, “they were getting a little bit yippy, a little bit afraid”—forced the president to dramatically reverse course and pause the tariffs for 90 days before even a single deal was struck, undermining his bargaining leverage.
Some foreign governments may now question whether Trump will be willing to reimpose the tariffs even if his terms are not met. As a New York Times article put it, “[Chinese leader] Xi [Jinping] learned that his adversary has a pain point.” Just this weekend, the U.S. agreed to temporarily lower tariffs on China from 145% to 30% without yet receiving any specific, substantive concessions in return. By backing down, Trump may also have revealed that he is less crazy than he would like adversaries to believe, which was also the fatal flaw of Nixon’s attempt to use the madman strategy to win the Vietnam War.
In sum, while critics who claim the madman theory has zero utility are somewhat overstating the case, it does have crucial flaws that will severely undermine what Trump will likely be able to achieve in the realm of international trade. Moreover, the harsh economic costs of this strategy and its blatant inconsistency with long-held American values championed since World War II make it a clearly unwise course to pursue moving forward.
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Top photo credit: US Marines aboard a LAV-25 Light Armored Vehicle (LAV) keep a sharp watch around their vehicle after their patrol was stopped by supporters of GEN. Manuel Noriega on the road leading into the town, 10/31/1989. ( J. Alan Elliott, USN/public domain)
This is the first in a new Quincy Institute/Responsible Statecraft project series highlighting the writing and reporting of U.S. military veterans. Click here for more information.
When the red tracers of an AC130 gunship’s minigun slashed through the warm, dry night skies above Panama City at 12:41 AM on December 20, 1989, few guessed that it would mark an opening stanza in America’s expansive unipolar moment.
In the hours that followed, more than 20,000 U.S. troops conducted a swift and violent invasion of a sovereign state to remove the inconvenient and venal regime of General Manuel Antonio Noriega, who had embarrassed and bedeviled U.S. policymakers for years.
Now nearly forgotten, this invasion — bequeathed with the trite and even cynical name of “Operation JUST CAUSE” — marked a tentative but crucial first step toward the “forever wars” of today. Freed from the frightening, but disciplining, constraints of the Cold War, American leaders were now unchecked by rival powers, and the very perception of success for Operation JUST CAUSE would help shape their decisions going forward.
Conceived as the illegitimate child of America’s late 19th and early 20th century flirtation with regional imperialism and the naval theories of U.S. Admiral Alfred Thayer Mahan, Panama and its canal have long exerted significant pull over U.S. strategy and domestic politics. A more fulsome account of the U.S.-Panamanian relationship is beyond the scope of this essay, but the hypocrisy and bad faith on both sides in this tragicomic saga has few equals, even in the annals of U.S. hemispheric policy.
The 1977 Panama Canal Treaty was ratified against fierce Republican opposition, and it provided for a 22-year turnover transition during which time there would be a hybrid administration of the Canal Zone. By 1989, this resulted in a dizzying checkerboard of U.S. and Panama Defense Force (PDF) military installations interspersed next to and co-located with each other across the isthmus. The U.S. reserved the treaty right to intervene militarily to protect the canal.
The agreement, however, was predicated upon the assumption of good relations between the signatories, a dubious proposition even under the nationalist but pragmatic Panamanian regime of Omar Torrijos. When the cartoonishly duplicitous Manuel Noriega assumed de facto power in Panama after Torrijos’ death in 1981, he initially leveraged support for Reagan’s policies in Central America to mask his growing ties with drug cartels and other adversaries. This awkward fling ended, when Noriega’s 1987 indictment on federal drug charges ushered in a hostile turn in relations.
Noriega quickly became a political detriment to the Reagan and George H.W. Bush administrations. Anti-Noriega candidates decisively won elections in May 1989, only for regime militias to violently overturn the results. Performative U.S. sanctions caused considerable damage to the populace, but did little to dislodge Noriega, who also saw off two coup attempts in 1988 and 1989.
During the latter attempt, with Noriega in the custody of the golpistas, American forces sealed two of the three routes leading to PDF Headquarters (“La Comandancia”) in Panama City, but failed to put in a third roadblock allowing loyalist forces to defeat the coup, rescue Noriega, and inflict a humiliating defeat on the Bush administration.
As tensions skyrocketed, U.S. military preparations accelerated and evolved from a special forces “snatch” operation personally targeting Noriega into a massive strike designed to destroy the PDF and uproot the regime in its entirety.
When PDF troops killed a U.S. Marine at a checkpoint in Panama City and detained and brutalized another U.S. family, Bush acted. Thousands of U.S. troops conducted a crushing and aggressive night attack, achieving complete surprise and effectively destroying the PDF by daybreak. After hiding for several days, Noriega was forced to flee, seeking refuge at the Papal Nunciature. Resistance quickly faded, and Noriega was extradited to the U.S. after several days of negotiations.
The denied victors in the May election assumed the reins of power. In the following weeks, most U.S. troops returned home, although units in Panama battled a massive crime wave and rooted out pockets of Noriega supporters. Twenty-three U.S. troops were killed. Panamanian casualty estimates are mired in controversy, with SOUTHCOM estimating that 314 PDF troops had died, along 202 civilians, and leftist sources citing higher civilian tolls.
For the U.S., JUST CAUSE was at the time a clear success. A quick, decisive, low-cost military operation had laid to rest a humiliating years-long array of diplomatic and policy failures. The invasion was an important proof of concept as one of the first skirmishes fought after passage of the 1986 Goldwater-Nichols Act which provided for new unified “Regional Commands.”
It also marked a tactical inflection point: for over 200 years, U.S. ground forces had followed a distinctly “solar powered” pattern of operating in the day and digging in at night. In Panama, U.S. troops emerged as lethal and effective night fighters. The All-Volunteer Force — whose performance in the 1970s and early 80s had been shaky at best — finally seemed to deliver the capabilities that its early boosters had envisioned.
Strategically, however, the invasion of Panama has not aged as well. In hindsight, it seems policymakers drew a series of suboptimal initial lessons from this venture, which were then amplified by the much larger 1991 Gulf War.
First, U.S. leaders were seduced by the low casualties, domestic popularity, and quick success achieved first in Panama, and then repeated in DESERT STORM. These two operations enabled a strategic recalculation of the perceived costs and benefits of military action and elevated the relative attractiveness of military options. Even before the 9/11 attacks, the greater policymaker demand for “kinetic” solutions throughout the 1990s led to a dramatic spike in military activity.
Second, the invasion of Panama was clearly a “false positive” for the efficacy of regime change operations. The quick and politically antiseptic removal of a hostile government, and the ease with which the U.S. installed a new one, incentivized policymakers toward maximalist demands, incrementally undermining the messy and emotionally unsatisfying drudgery of diplomacy.
Bu the “Cliffs Notes” version of the operation that the policy community took on generally dismissed the unique advantages the U.S. military enjoyed in Panama, such the solid intelligence picture gleaned from an eighty-year presence, Noriega’s overwhelming unpopularity among Panamanians, and the existence of a legitimate alternate government.
Finally, the rapid success of the invasion and the ease with which it lanced an ugly and embarrassing political boil for the United States (Noriega) encouraged policy planning that underestimated or even obviated the need to plan for messy post-conflict political engagement. This is not surprising: military success is clean and popular; diplomacy is hard and draining. We retroactively devalued having a viable, legitimate, indigenous political option in Panama.
By contrast, when we went into Afghanistan and later Iraq, swift military success was followed by a policy vacuum and then by chaos and violence.
Microsoft co-founder Bill Gates once said that “success is a lousy teacher. It seduces people into thinking they can’t lose.” This was certainly the case for Operation JUST CAUSE. As we look back on decades of perpetual conflict and consider the path that brought us here, it is hard to look at the invasion of Panama as anything other than an early success that subsequently helped teach policymakers a slew of very dubious lessons.
And as any pre-GPS traveler remembers, it is hard to recover from an early wrong turn, especially when the mistakes only become clear miles down the road.
What’s worse than the Pentagon spending taxpayer dollars on golf courses? Spending taxpayer dollars on golf courses that nobody uses.
Even as the Department of Defense renovates some of its 145 golf courses, the Army acknowledged in a new Pentagon study on excess capacity that it owns at least six facilities labeled “Golf Club House and Sales” that almost no one uses. The Navy owns at least two more golf facilities that it listed as underutilized.
But the problem goes far beyond golf courses. The Pentagon oversees some $4.1 trillion in assets and 26.7 million acres of land — a sprawling network of military installations across the United States and the globe. Wasted space and resources in that network could be squeezing taxpayers out of billions of dollars.
A Defense Department official familiar with the data included in the new report, which is only available for viewing in person at the House and Senate Armed Services Committees in Congress, explained to RS that the Pentagon’s problem of empty buildings has gotten out of hand.
“Most installations are incentivized to hang onto empty or partially empty spaces until they know for sure that the building is totally failing,” they said. Otherwise, installations will lose their funding.
In other words, the Pentagon has a phantom infrastructure problem made up of empty storage warehouses and training facilities that collect dust. The only thing real about them is the cost, brought to you by the U.S. taxpayer.
But just how bad has this problem gotten? Well, the Pentagon itself doesn’t have a consistent answer, meaning the real number of underused facilities could be much higher.
The last time the Pentagon tried to answer this question publicly was in a 2017 infrastructure capacity report, which found that roughly 20 percent of the Pentagon’s infrastructure was excess to need.
However, this new report — responding to a requirement in the Fiscal Year 2024 National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA), which the House and Senate Armed Services Committees just received this month — tells a different story. Taken together, these two reports reveal flawed and incongruous systems for assessing the Pentagon’s costly excess infrastructure capacity, which in turn serve to undermine the case for reducing this excess infrastructure through a new round of Base Realignment and Closure (BRAC).
In the new report, dated September 2024, each of the military service branches responded separately to a list of ten prompts included in the NDAA. One of these prompts seeks information on the total number of excess assets (i.e. buildings) and their total square footage. Another requests information on “the number of underused facilities with the associated use rate…”
One of the more obvious shortcomings of this report is that the Army is the only military service that listed total assets and their square footage alongside excess assets and their square footage; the Navy and the Air Force simply listed excess assets and square footage, obscuring the percentage of their assets that are excess to need. By searching a General Services Administration (GSA) database of government property, we were able to correct for this shortcoming (though numbers represent our best estimate because GSA’s methodology for assessing total assets may differ from the Pentagon’s).
The following table compares the 2024 report’s findings (and conclusions drawn from them based on GSA data) to findings in the 2017 report.
Taken at face value, this data appears to show that the Pentagon’s excess infrastructure has shrunk significantly in the seven-and-a-half years since its last public report on infrastructure capacity.
In particular, the Air Force may appear as if it has unlocked the secret to shedding excess capacity without the politically challenging work of a new BRAC process, having cut excess capacity from around 30 percent to less than 0.1 percent in under eight years. That news might come as a surprise to Air Force Chief of Staff Gen. David Allen, who has been pointing to the Air Force’s roughly 30 percent excess infrastructure in a dispute with lawmakers over the Pentagon’s backlog of deferred maintenance at its facilities.
Still, the new data would be welcome news, if it were sound. Unfortunately, methodological differences between the reports make it difficult to assess progress, and insight from an official familiar with the data suggests the new numbers are severely underestimated.
For one, Pentagon officials responsible for listing excess capacity in the report are incentivized to underreport, according to the Department of Defense official who was granted anonymity to discuss the report.
“Facility utilization data included in the report varies widely in its accuracy and timeliness,” they said. “The information is self-reported, labor-intensive to compile, and installations have an incentive to avoid declaring facilities as ‘excess’ because once they change the facility status from ‘active’ to ‘excess,’ the projected sustainment funding associated with the square footage of the facility (or other unit of measure) will drop by 85%.”
This not only makes access to accurate information exceedingly difficult, but it also creates a perverse incentive structure in which installations hang onto empty and partially empty spaces.
“For instance,” the official explained, “if an installation is receiving $250,000 annually in sustainment funding for a warehouse — but the base no longer needs or uses the warehouse — the installation commander and their public works director will likely keep the warehouse listed as ‘active’ rather than changing its real property status as ‘excess’ to avoid slashing their sustainment funds down to a meager $37,500 per year. While it’s empty and locked or boarded up, they can spend almost nothing on it, but still use the $250,000 a year for the installation and use that money on other needed repair and sustainment projects across the base.”
The new study acknowledges some issues with the data. For instance, the Army reported that it lacks “the manpower to do required utilization studies.” In other instances, military departments just blatantly ignored the data request, providing incomplete answers. But the study does not address the fundamentally perverse incentive for installations to underreport excess capacity.
The 2017 report by contrast, paints a much starker picture regarding Pentagon waste. Rather than detailing individual installations, that study assessed excess capacity by service using a baseline year of 1989 to maintain consistency with earlier infrastructure capacity reports.
However, the report itself still underscores that its findings are highly conservative, pointing to its assumption that there was not excess capacity in 1989. As the methodology section explains, “using 1989 as a baseline indicates the excess found in this report is likely conservative because significant excess existed in 1989, as evidenced by the subsequent BRAC closures.”
The Pentagon has said that past BRAC rounds are collectively saving taxpayers some $12 billion per year. Congress should work to authorize a new round of BRAC, which could save taxpayers additional billions of dollars per year, without further delay.
As a start, lawmakers should include a new reporting requirement in this year’s NDAA that requires the Pentagon to report on its excess infrastructure capacity on an annual or biennial basis and lays out clear parameters around methodology to ensure accuracy and consistency across reports. Failing that, lawmakers and taxpayers will continue to be kept in the dark as to the true scale of the Pentagon’s waste and the squandering of taxpayer dollars it entails.
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