Can Trump Go from NACHO Back to TACO?

Trump woke up with a rare piece of good news: the Iran war is showing signs of easing. He has claimed a ceasefire agreement could be reached within a week. The deadline is pressing — his long-delayed China trip begins next Thursday, 14 May, according to Washington, and arriving in Beijing without a peace deal would be nothing short of an embarrassment.

Here is how the situation on the ground has shifted over the past week.

Iran Softens

Iran has tabled a sweeping new 14-point peace proposal, structured across three phases. The first phase calls for converting the ceasefire into a full cessation of hostilities within 30 days. It extends the truce across all territories involving Israel and regional allies, establishes an international mechanism to prevent a resumption of hostilities, and revises Iran's earlier war reparations demands. Most critically, Iran proposes to gradually reopen the Strait of Hormuz in exchange for the United States lifting its naval blockade.

The second phase focuses on Iran's nuclear concessions. Tehran agrees to discuss a complete halt to uranium enrichment for up to 15 years. It rules out the forced dismantlement of its nuclear facilities, but consents to transferring or diluting its stockpile of highly enriched uranium outside its borders. During this phase, the United States would progressively lift economic sanctions.

Iran's biggest concession here is agreeing to physically move its enriched uranium out of the country, instead of merely agreeing to discuss nuclear issues.

In the third phase, Iran would engage in strategic talks with regional states to build a comprehensive security framework for the entire region. Taken together, this proposal has significantly narrowed the gap between the two sides.

Trump Plays Games

Iran extended an olive branch. Trump responded by playing games. On 2 May, the White House posted a crazy video on X — a looping edit of Trump repeatedly declaring "Winning it, winning it, winning it..." within the span of an entire hour. A day later, on 3 May, he announced the "Project Freedom": a large naval fleet would escort ships trapped in the Strait of Hormuz out of the waterway. Strip away the packaging, and the project was a naked attempt to force vessels through the strait by sheer military muscle.

Trump's calculation was clear: pressure Iran into silence, break open the strait, and arrive at the negotiating table with stronger cards. Iran answered with missiles — firing directly at US escort destroyers. Because the designated shipping route ran close to the United Arab Emirates, Iranian missiles also struck UAE oil tankers and oil facilities. In an instant, the promise of peace collapsed into renewed hostilities. International oil prices swung from falling to rising within a single day, with a total range of as much as 8%. Trump had badly misjudged Iran's reaction — and blown the whole thing up.

Trump Backs Down Again

Once Iran fired, Trump found himself trapped. Under US law, a president can wage war without Congressional authorization for only 60 days — and that deadline had already passed on 1 May. Going back to war with Iran would require Congressional approval. Trump had absolutely no confidence he could get it. A deeply ironic spectacle then emerged: when media pressed him on whether Iran's missile strike on US destroyers constituted a violation of the ceasefire and an act of war, Trump transformed into Iran's de facto spokesman. He deflected, hedged, and refused to call it an act of war — calling the Iranian missile strike a "love tap" instead, while insisting the ceasefire was still "in effect." He even admitted the two countries were locked in what he called a "mini war"— then immediately pivoted to say he wanted it ended "now." That kind of white-horse-is-not-a-horse sophistry was never going to hold.

Middle Eastern media, citing sources on 7 May, reported that Iran and the United States had reached a consensus: easing the US naval blockade in exchange for the gradual reopening of the Strait of Hormuz. Neither Washington nor Tehran had confirmed the report.

Make no mistake: watching a superpower reverse course so dramatically — and so repeatedly — is a remarkable sight. One can’t but wonder: who would still want to follow this kind of boss?

After calling off the "Project Freedom", Trump quickly put out word that a deal with Iran would be reached within a week. The reality is Trump has run out of room for maneuvering. He cannot go back to war with Iran — Congressional authorization is essentially out of reach — and the clock is ticking toward his China trip. His only viable path is to secure a peace deal before Air Force One touches down in Beijing.

From TACO to NACHO

American elites have given Trump a new nickname to go with his latest blunders. The old label "TACO" — borrowed from the name of a Mexican flatbread — mocked him as  "Trump Always Chickens Out." The new one is "NACHO," taken from the name of Mexican tortilla chips, standing for "Not A Chance Hormuz Opens." It is a pointed jab at Trump's string of miscalculations, with the strait's reopening looking no closer to reality.

One can only hope Trump comes to his senses — turns "NACHO" back into "TACO," faces reality, makes the necessary concessions, and reaches a peace agreement with Iran without further delay. The world has already suffered enough.

Lo Wing-hung

Bastille Commentary

** 博客文章文責自負,不代表本公司立場 **

American officials used to preach the "rules-based international order" at every turn. That phrase now sounds like a punchline. Add one word and it tells the truth: an international order based on American rules.

The World Cup has produced a scandal, and the United States is at the center of it. In the Round of 32 on July 1, the US beat Bosnia and Herzegovina 2-0. But star striker Folarin Balogun stepped on an opponent's heel and picked up a red card. FIFA rules say a red card triggers a one-match ban. That should have kept Balogun out of the Round of 16 clash with Belgium on July 6.

The New York Times reports that Donald Trump got personally involved. He called FIFA President Gianni Infantino the same day. Trump argued the red card was controversial and pressed FIFA to reconsider the suspension.

FIFA folded, but with a twist. On July 5, the governing body confirmed Balogun had violated Articles 14 and 26 of its Disciplinary Code and handed down a one-match ban. Then it invoked Article 27, which allows disciplinary measures to be suspended in full or in part, to defer the ban for a year. Balogun was free to keep playing through the rest of the tournament.

The backlash was immediate and global. Trump, unmoved by the criticism, thanked FIFA for making the "correct decision" and for "correcting a grave injustice."

Belgium did not take it quietly. Deputy Prime Minister and Foreign Minister Maxime Prévot, a former referee himself, said he had spent his career upholding fair rulings. He put it bluntly: "If a phone call truly underpins this incomprehensible decision, then it amounts to undermining the most fundamental rules of football and sport." Belgium's head coach, Rudi Garcia, was even sharper. "I didn’t know that July 5 was equal to April 1 at FIFA," he said, adding that his complaint wasn't about defending Belgium or attacking FIFA. It was about "defending in football".

Other national teams piled on. England manager Thomas Tuchel asked the question everyone was thinking: "Where does this precedent begin, and where does it end?" His point cuts to the core of the scandal. Power and influence can now override sporting judgment, and a single phone call from a global superpower was enough to erase the idea of fair competition.

Maybe football still has a sense of justice. On July 6, Balogun started despite his dirty play, but Belgium still thrashed the United States 4-1. The score itself felt like a curse, a brutal callback to the tournament's own April Fool's farce.

There was a time when the United States looked both powerful and admirable, a country that was simply always right. I grew up watching American Westerns, the kind starring Clint Eastwood, where heroic cowboys gunned down "Indians" cast as savage and brutal. Even the word "Indians" carries that discrimination baked in, reducing Native Americans to "redskins". Those films erased a brutal history: European colonizers massacring Indigenous peoples across the Americas with superior weapons.

Seize the land, wipe out the people, then cast yourself as the hero. American ideology in a nutshell. Turning bloody history into entertainment and exporting it to the world is something only the United States has pulled off this well, and Hong Kong has not been spared its influence.

At the height of American power, even scandals got repackaged as virtues, seamless and airtight. That is no longer the case. As US power declines and its position weakens, the cracks are showing everywhere. A president meddling in a football ruling has now become global news. Similar things likely happened before, when America's power was unquestioned, but back then nobody dared expose them.

Lo Wing-hung