What Did Donald Trump Do Today?
Weekend Recap: May 24 & 25, 2025
Donald Trump’s 2025 commencement address at the United States Military Academy at West Point was delivered with characteristic flair but ultimately fell short of the expectations associated with a presidential speech at one of the nation’s most prestigious institutions. While Trump succeeded in recognizing the individual accomplishments of cadets and maintaining a lively rapport with the audience, the address was deeply politicized, thematically disjointed, and often more reflective of Trump’s political grievances and personal mythology than of the solemnity and tradition that typically define such occasions.
From the outset, Trump’s speech lacked a clear narrative arc. Rather than delivering a cohesive message about leadership, service, or national purpose, he moved erratically between topics—congratulating individual cadets, launching into nostalgic business anecdotes, reciting military budget figures, and revisiting campaign trail grievances. At several points, the speech devolved into extended personal digressions, such as a lengthy retelling of a failed real estate magnate’s fall from success, which, while loosely tied to the concept of “momentum,” was far removed from the lived experiences of West Point graduates. These stories, rather than elevating the tone or offering timeless wisdom, often served to center Trump himself—his values, career, battles, and legacy—over the graduating class.
The speech’s tone fluctuated dramatically. Trump oscillated between warmth and self-congratulation, reverence and informality. While his recognition of Cadet Ricky McMahon’s fallen father was one of the few emotionally resonant and respectful moments, even that tribute was interrupted by Trump inserting his own name and desire for a ring from the class crucible program. Elsewhere, his interactions with cadets were laced with casual remarks and improvised humor (“male models,” “Captain America”), which, while drawing laughter, eroded the formality of the moment. The use of phrases like “cadetses,” “your daughter is a real winner,” and “I want one!” may have been intended to convey relatability but came off as unserious and at odds with the significance of the ceremony.
Politically, the speech was highly charged and often inappropriate for the venue. Trump claimed that his 2024 election win was a mandate that gave him the right to reshape the country according to his will. He boasted about deploying troops to the southern border, claimed record reductions in illegal immigration, and accused prior administrations of allowing invasions, importing criminals, and releasing the mentally ill into the country. These topics, framed as triumphs of his second term, not only strayed from the cadets’ accomplishments but also cast a shadow of divisiveness over what should have been a unifying address.
His rhetorical attacks on gender inclusion, diversity training, and what he derisively labeled “ideological experiments” were particularly jarring in a speech that otherwise celebrated individual achievement and military innovation. Trump’s suggestion that women do not want to tackle male football players—delivered shortly after praising female cadets who completed elite diver training—undermined his own messaging. His dismissal of critical race theory and transgender policies as harmful “social projects” reflected ongoing culture war themes but were out of place in a graduation ceremony meant to transcend politics.
Equally concerning was Trump’s repeated conflation of national victory with his own personal leadership. He took credit for rebuilding the military, defeating ISIS “in three weeks,” and restoring American prestige. He also declared that West Point “won World War I and World War II,” erasing complex historical alliances and contributions for the sake of an applause line. His announcement of a new national holiday to commemorate America’s World War victories—while dismissing foreign nations’ commemorations as self-aggrandizing—was framed as a corrective to perceived national neglect, but again reflected a transactional, self-referential view of history.
Though Trump invoked traditional virtues like honor, sacrifice, and patriotism, these were repeatedly subordinated to campaign rhetoric, executive braggadocio, and an overarching theme of vindication. His six points of career advice—do what you love, think big, work hard, keep momentum, take risks, and never give up—were sound in principle but poorly structured and uneven in delivery. The advice was interspersed with tangents, digressions, and historical misstatements. For instance, the example of General “Razin Caine” was intended to illustrate decisive leadership but veered into implausible timelines and hagiography.
In closing, Donald Trump’s address failed to rise to the historic and moral gravity expected of a commencement address at West Point. Rather than deliver a message of unity, reflection, and institutional pride, he used the platform to amplify his political brand, recast national service as a form of personal loyalty, and turn a military milestone into a vehicle for partisan affirmation. While his speech included moments of genuine admiration and humor, its primary function was not to inspire a generation of officers, but to reaffirm his image as warrior-president in the culture war of his choosing. In doing so, Trump missed a profound opportunity to speak not just as a politician, but as the symbolic leader of a nation’s future guardians.
Donald Trump’s Truth Social post targeting Harvard University is characteristic of his rhetorical style: inflammatory, accusatory, and thin on policy substance. The post raises concerns about foreign student enrollment and federal funding, but frames them in a misleading and demagogic way that conflates xenophobia with fiscal accountability.
First, the claim that "almost 31% of their students are from FOREIGN LANDS" is not contextualized. Harvard’s international student population includes graduate and professional students, many of whom are fully funded through private means, home governments, or competitive academic fellowships. It’s misleading to suggest that these students are a financial burden on the American taxpayer simply because of their citizenship. In reality, international students often pay full tuition, contribute significantly to the U.S. economy, and enhance the global reputation of American higher education institutions.
Second, Trump demands the release of the names and countries of origin of international students. This extraordinary and invasive request violates privacy norms and raises serious ethical and legal red flags. It implicitly suggests that foreign students are security threats or economic leeches, which stokes anti-immigrant sentiment without evidence. The idea that it is “a reasonable request” ignores FERPA (Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act) protections and basic principles of academic freedom and nondiscrimination.
Third, the assertion that “we give Harvard BILLIONS OF DOLLARS” is exaggerated. While Harvard does receive federal research grants, as do many universities, these are typically awarded competitively for specific scientific or academic purposes and not as blank checks. Harvard's large endowment does not eliminate its eligibility for such funding any more than a wealthy defense contractor's profitability bars it from Pentagon contracts.
Finally, the demand that Harvard “stop asking for the Federal Government to continue GRANTING money” oversimplifies the complex relationship between universities and the federal government. Ending public research funding based on ideological grievances undermines the integrity of academic research and weakens the United States’ global scientific leadership.
The post leverages nationalist populism to attack higher education, casting elite universities as unpatriotic, unaccountable, and infiltrated by foreigners. It’s a tactic aimed more at political theater than at crafting any coherent or responsible policy.
In another Truth Social message posted Sunday afternoon, Donald Trump presents a chaotic and self-contradictory mix of personal grievance, shifting blame, and foreign policy posturing that undermines both credibility and coherence. The post begins with a boast about his past relationship with Vladimir Putin, but quickly pivots to labeling Putin as having gone “CRAZY” and “needlessly killing a lot of people”—a striking rhetorical shift that lacks substance or diplomatic clarity. While this condemnation of Russian aggression is welcome on its surface, it is immediately undercut by Trump’s characteristic attempt to absolve himself of any responsibility for the current war while assigning blame to everyone else, including President Biden, President Zelenskyy, and even Putin himself, as if Trump alone stands above the fray.
His vague accusation that Zelenskyy “is doing his Country no favors by talking the way he does” is particularly reckless. It implies moral equivalence between a democratically elected leader defending his nation and an autocrat launching missile strikes on civilian cities. Trump offers no evidence for how Zelenskyy’s speech is supposedly escalating the war, just a personal dislike, followed by a veiled threat: “it better stop.” This is deeply inappropriate rhetoric from a sitting president, especially when addressing a nation under siege.
Trump’s claim that “this war would never have started if I were President” is speculative and self-aggrandizing. It ignores the long-standing geopolitical tensions and Putin’s historical ambitions toward Ukraine, which predate Trump’s first term in office. Blaming the war on “Gross Incompetence and Hatred” without defining the nature of that incompetence or hatred serves only to scapegoat rather than offer solutions. Moreover, calling himself the one “helping to put out the big and ugly fires” while offering no strategy or policy ideas reinforces the impression that Trump remains focused on image and absolution rather than leadership or responsibility.
Overall, the post is a confused mixture of performative outrage, revisionist history, and aggressive finger-pointing that contributes little to serious discussion of the war in Ukraine. It continues Trump’s habit of injecting himself into global crises with bravado rather than substance.
The Trump administration’s decision to effectively lift sanctions on Syria through General License 25 (GL25) and a Caesar Act waiver marks a dramatic and controversial departure from longstanding bipartisan U.S. policy toward the Assad-era regime and its aftermath. Framed as a humanitarian and strategic realignment, the move raises serious questions about its legal coherence, geopolitical implications, and internal consistency.
First, the administration’s rationale is murky. The justification that this sanctions relief will promote “private sector activity consistent with the President’s America First strategy” is vague and ideologically incongruent. Historically, “America First” has been associated with isolationism and transactional diplomacy, not nation-building or Middle East stabilization. The claim that sanctions relief aligns with that doctrine seems more like retrofitting an impulsive policy shift to an ideological brand than offering a coherent foreign policy vision.
Second, the central figure in this pivot—Ahmed al-Sharaa, formerly known as Abu Muhammad al-Jawlani—is deeply problematic. While he is now recast as Syria’s interim president, his past associations with extremist groups—including his U.S. designation as a terrorist leader—undermine the credibility of this partnership. That the administration now legitimizes financial transactions with him and entities like Syrian Arab Airlines and the Central Bank of Syria, which were previously sanctioned for corruption and regime complicity, amounts to an abrupt normalization that lacks transparency and due process.
Furthermore, the move raises glaring human rights concerns. The Caesar Act was specifically designed to hold the Assad regime—and its successors—accountable for war crimes and civilian atrocities. By issuing a 180-day waiver, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, who has historically taken a hawkish stance on Syria, appears to contradict his prior advocacy for accountability. The conditional nature of sanctions relief, based on vague commitments from the new Syrian government to expel foreign fighters and suppress ISIS, lacks enforceable mechanisms or clear benchmarks. It resembles wishful thinking rather than a grounded diplomatic framework.
Strategically, the decision also appears driven by short-term alliances rather than long-term stability. The fact that Trump made this reversal “at the behest of Saudi Arabia’s crown prince” implies a foreign-influenced policy shift, subordinating U.S. principles to transactional diplomacy. Such deference undermines the perceived independence of U.S. foreign policy and emboldens authoritarian regional actors to shape American decisions through back-channel influence.
Finally, while humanitarian motives are cited, the decision may have unintended consequences. Sanctions relief without robust safeguards can enable kleptocracy and regime entrenchment under a new name. It also risks alienating allies who have supported sanctions enforcement as a tool of pressure and accountability. The administration touts this as a path to peace and economic recovery, but absent credible oversight and accountability mechanisms, the policy risks empowering a new autocracy, rebranded but not reformed.
In sum, this action is less a strategic recalibration than a hasty reversal that blends poor vetting, questionable alliances, and a transactional disregard for the norms that have defined U.S. policy toward Syria for over a decade. It may invite short-term headlines, but it sets a dangerous precedent for legitimizing warlords, rewarding instability, and trivializing the very sanctions mechanisms designed to uphold international law.
Donald Trump has agreed to extend the deadline for tariff negotiations with the European Union to 9 July. This follows a call with European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen, who requested more time to secure a favorable trade deal.
Initially, Trump had imposed a 20% tariff on most EU goods, later reduced to 10% until 8 July, but expressed frustration over the slow pace of negotiations and threatened to raise tariffs to 50% by 1 June. Von der Leyen said she was ready to act swiftly, while EU trade chief Maroš Šefčovič emphasized the bloc’s commitment to a fair deal, calling for mutual respect rather than threats.
The U.S. and EU have a massive trade relationship, with the EU exporting over $600 billion to the U.S. last year, compared to $370 billion in imports. Disputes remain over automobiles, agriculture, and the existing 25% tariffs on EU steel and aluminum.
France and Germany have urged diplomacy to avoid further economic harm. Meanwhile, the EU has paused retaliatory measures, including a 25% tariff on $20 billion in U.S. goods, while considering additional tariffs on $95 billion worth of American imports.
A federal judge, Brian Murphy, ordered the Trump administration to help return a Guatemalan man, identified as O.C.G., who was wrongfully deported to Mexico despite a court ruling protecting him from deportation to Guatemala due to fears of persecution. O.C.G., who is gay, had previously suffered rape and kidnapping in Mexico and feared returning there as well. The judge condemned the deportation as likely lacking "any semblance of due process" and described it as a case of bureaucratic cruelty.
Although the U.S. immigration system had granted O.C.G. protection from removal to Guatemala, officials sent him to Mexico, which they deemed a “safe third country.” He was later deported from Mexico to Guatemala, where he is now in hiding. DHS official Tricia McLaughlin defended the action and criticized the judge as an "activist," expecting a higher court to overturn the ruling.
Judge Murphy’s decision follows other court rebukes of Trump-era deportations, including the wrongful deportation of Kilmar Abrego Garcia, a Salvadoran man whose return was later ordered by the Supreme Court. The administration has resisted facilitating these returns, sometimes citing national security or legal obstacles. However, Murphy asserted that returning O.C.G. would not be burdensome and urged swift compliance.