BOB BURFORD - PART XIV

The Coward & The Hero: A Day of National Disgrace

My stomach churns. The bile rises. Never in my lifetime have I seen a more shameful, more disgraceful occupant of the White House. A man who has so thoroughly soiled the seat of power that even history recoils. A traitor. A thug. A liar. A cheat. And today, a pathetic, desperate, pantomime dictator, trying to stare down the leader of Ukraine—Volodymyr Zelenskyy, a man who has stood before death, before the smoking ruins of his homeland, and still refuses to bow.

Trump? Trump isn’t fit to lace Zelenskyy’s boots. The bloated relic of a reality show presidency, slathered in an extra layer of high-polished orange shoe polish, face glowing like a jack-o’-lantern stuffed with state secrets. He sat there playing the part of a South American strongman from the ‘50s, puffed up and empty, all bark and bluster, but no spine, no soul. He thought he could roll over a man who has lived in the trenches of war. But Zelenskyy has seen real men die. He has heard the whistle of missiles meant to tear him apart. Trump has never heard anything louder than the sound of his own mouth.

So what did the orange tyrant do? He rattled on about Hunter Biden’s laptop. In the presence of a war hero, he ranted like an unhinged lunatic about a hard drive. Idiot speak. Straightjacket talk. A man devoid of vision, reduced to the same old grievances, same old conspiracy-laced dementia, as if the fate of nations could be debated on the level of a Fox News fever dream.

And then, the jester arrived—J.D. Vance, a third-rate clown who came not to stand for anything, but to clean Trump’s boots with his lips. He sat there, all smug obedience, waiting for his cue, eager to please his master in moments of fitful rage. No dignity. No independence. Just another political parasite feeding off the rot. This was one of the most sickening displays of cowardice in American history.

And across the border, Canada’s Trudeau—so often a punching bag for American conservatives—stood tall, shoulder to shoulder with Zelenskyy, a leader among leaders. He didn’t grovel. He didn’t cower. He didn’t babble like a lunatic about emails or laptops. He stood on the right side of history.

That’s the difference. That’s the stark, gut-wrenching reality.

On one side, men of honour.

On the other, grub worms in suits.