“Not an inch more.” Two and a half centimeters, or even less, and we’d already be commenting on the assassination of Donald Trump. Instead, he was saved by a miracle, because the sniper who shot him knew how to shoot, big time. Therefore, this is an attempt on the life of a former President of the United States, a candidate who is more determined than ever to become one again. Even before the assassination attempt in Butler, Pennsylvania, and more so than ever now, when, as a survivor, he can be a perfect testament to himself, “a victim of hate,” unleashed against him by the Democrats. A hard blow for Biden, already on edge and struggling with growing skepticism about his competitiveness, which one by one has spread from Obama to Nancy Pelosi, Democratic senators and congressmen, commentators who until recently were embedded in the mainstream, to high-profile donors like George Clooney who are increasingly openly affirming it. There’s panic in the party; the White House has pulled down the shutters and is trying to pretend nothing happened. For how long? Until the Chicago convention in mid-August? How long will it be futile and equally predictably losing to play the alternative candidate card to a defeated outgoing president? American facts with potentially huge impact in other countries. Let’s think about Netanyahu, who hopes that once Trump is re-elected, he can get the minimal support he needs to try to survive politically, despite the shameful shooting of Palestinian civilians in Gaza, Rafah, in hospitals, in tent cities. Will the judge be, if not “in Berlin,” at least in The Hague? For far less money, the United States and Europe launched a war against Yugoslavia, and its president was forcibly removed from Belgrade and languished in prison until his death. And let’s think about Zelensky clinging to the Democratic battleship to get more and more in a conflict that will see him less and less victorious. And let’s think about the leaders of the European Union, the progressive governments of Macron, Scholz, Sanchez, and the conservative government of Meloni, called upon by events on the horizon to adjust their line. Some are already preparing to do so, others – the leadership, as De Gaulle would say – will follow. In the meantime, strategic developments are evolving. “Not an inch more,” in this case NATO in the east, was an illusion won first by Gorbachev and then by Yeltsin. We know how it was. But reputable American historians, backed by gradually declassified documents from the archives, have made us realize that the last president of the USSR and the first president of post-Soviet Russia did not make up the assurances of Bush Sr., Khol, Clinton, and the secretaries of state. They simply lacked the political wit, cynicism, and clarity to record this commitment. Then it becomes very interesting to follow the “deep debate” going on in the USA right now. The same historians who said “not an inch further east” are now writing about the possible final outcome in Ukraine. Aside from the emphasis on the 75th anniversary of the Atlantic Alliance, despite pressure from outgoing Secretary General Stoltenberg, NATO’s doors remain closed to Kiev. Much longer. While Zelensky no doubt wants to keep the country in a state of war. Or maybe even after that. Because the new Iron Curtain of the Cold War in the 21st century also consists of thousands of ultramilitarized kilometers with territories long awaiting final geographical distribution. A possible solution stems from America’s “deep debate.” Mary Elise Sarotte just wrote this in the Foreign Affairs magazine. The model of Norway after World War II or the model of Germany before reunification. In the first case, Ukraine would agree to become a member of the “narrow rut,” that is, without the presence of military bases, much less nuclear weapons, on its territory. In the second case, it will agree to be a member of the Atlantic Alliance only on the part of Ukrainian territory that is not controlled by Russian troops. With its borders “temporarily” redrawn by the war and with a commitment to renounce “the use of force to achieve reunification,” as the Germans did before the fall of the Berlin Wall. Both decisions are difficult for Zelensky and his group in power in Kiev. Suffice to go back to the predictions of total victory on the eve of last year’s spring counteroffensive to quantify the paradigm shift that the Ukrainian leadership has to deal with. Which now across the Atlantic finds almost only “realistic” sides: the war will end at the negotiating table with Russia, and at that table Kiev can try to limit losses. No one can take responsibility for territorial integrity (with Crimea and expanded Donbass). If there ever was one. Here’s the story of this story. It is likely that in the not-so-distant future, someone will be called to account for missed opportunities to limit these territorial losses. As for the human ones, other extremely painful chapters will open up. The real focus, however, is on the US election, Trump’s possible victory, and his actual foreign policy intentions, most notably on the war in Ukraine. Everything else will come as a consequence. But that doesn’t mean the world stands still. Aldo Ferrari focuses his analysis on the Caucasus, which continues to be a highly critical region where Georgia is contested by the Brussels-Washington tandem and Moscow, following a dangerous and already destabilizing pattern from the beginning of this century. Meanwhile, Thomas Flichy de La Neville takes us into the heart of the Asian continent to take part in a tug-of-war, in which great powers, including China, have engaged to maximize the benefits of an alliance with Burma, itself a country marked by violent tensions.