FINDING ANSWERS
Long before becoming US president, Donald Trump perfected a style of leadership built for spectacle. On the reality TV show The Apprentice, he exemplified the resolute executive who simplified problems and acted on instinct.
But what works in television, even in politics, becomes dangerous when applied to war, particularly in the US-Israeli conflict with Iran.
A New York Times report on April 7 revealed Trump’s war cabinet “deferred to the president’s instincts, including his abundant confidence that the war would be quick and decisive.”
He was said to be persuaded by Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu who projected near-certain victory as “the regime would be weakened that it could not choke off the Strait of Hormuz, and the likelihood that Iran would land blows against US interests in neighboring countries was assessed as minimal.”
This instinct-driven approach culminated in a decision with global consequences.
The aftermath shows how quickly a decision based on gut feel can spiral outward. Disruptions in the Strait of Hormuz have cut a significant share of global oil supply, sending prices upward.
But the crisis extends far beyond fuel. Oil underpins modern industry; once constrained, its effects cascade into petrochemicals, plastics, fertilizers, and countless everyday goods. What has emerged is a crisis in everything.
Across Asia, the world’s manufacturing hub, the strain is becoming evident. Factories are scrambling for raw materials. Supplies of plastics and chemical inputs are tightening. Everyday goods, from noodles to bottled water to clothing, are becoming more expensive as packaging and transport costs surge.
At the center of this chain reaction is naphtha, a petroleum byproduct critical to plastics and synthetic materials. With supply heavily tied to the Middle East, disruptions have forced companies to cut output or delay production. Prices for plastic resins have surged, feeding directly into higher consumer costs.
Global institutions warn the worst may still lie ahead. Inflation is rising. Growth is slowing. And unlike past shocks, this crisis is unfolding in waves—spreading from energy to manufacturing to consumer goods, leaving economies little time to adjust.
In the Philippines, the astronomical costs of diesel, gasoline, and kerosene, including liquified petroleum gas — widely used for cooking — are draining household budgets, with the poor suffering the most.
Still, the government is trying to manage the fallout. At a recent Kapihan sa Manila Hotel, Health Secretary Teodoro J. Herbosa assured the public that essential medicine prices remain stable, at least in the short term, even as global logistics costs climb.
He said the Department of Health has intensified monitoring, expanded price surveillance, and readied measures such as price caps. Programs like Zero Balance Billing, outpatient subsidies, and the expansion of urgent care centers aim to cushion vulnerable Filipinos.
A prominent economist said the war is accelerating “downhill forces” already in motion. Government finances are tightening as spending rises and revenues lag. Inflation is gaining momentum, driven by fuel costs, a weakening peso, and more expensive imports.
These pressures are structural and self-reinforcing. They will not vanish with a ceasefire. Even if hostilities ended tomorrow, the economic aftershocks — higher debt, sustained inflation, weaker employment — could linger for years.
Amid this widening crisis, moral voices are sounding the alarm. Pope Leo XIV warned against a growing “delusion of omnipotence” in global affairs, urging a turn toward prayer “in which our limited human possibilities are joined to the infinite possibilities of God.”
He pointed to a Kingdom [of God] “in which there is no sword, no drone, no vengeance, no trivialization of evil, no unjust profit, but only dignity, understanding and forgiveness.” It stands in stark contrast to today’s reality, where “the balance within the human family has been severely destabilized,” and even the name of God is invoked in “discourses of death.”
This is the reality of modern conflict: decisions are centralized, but consequences are global.
For millions far removed from the corridors of power, the effects are immediate and personal, felt in the rising cost of fuel and food, shrinking incomes, and uncertain livelihoods. These burdens fall on nations that had no voice in the decision to attack Iran yet must absorb its fallout.
It would not be surprising if resentment toward Americans deepens — not only toward their leader, but toward the electorate that put him in power. Some people now see the US as a new world pariah, an unpredictable power whose decisions unleash cascading harm across economies and societies.
What began as a distant war has become an intimate, daily crisis. The effects ripple outward, disrupting the lives of billions who had no say in it. The growing backlash is not merely understandable; it is inevitable. ([email protected])