fox files

In 2016, when Donald J. Trump did the unthinkable and defeated Hillary Clinton, it was not merely a disruption of the expected political cycle. It was an ontological rupture in the worldview of the globalist establishment. That elite, forged in the gleaming chambers of Davos, Brussels, and Foggy Bottom, had spent decades constructing an ideological palace upon the belief that the arc of history had bent, permanently, toward supranationalism. Trump bulldozed the edifice.

To the stewards of the so-called “Rules-Based International Order,” Trump’s rise was not just electoral misfortune, it was apostasy. His sins were theological: he questioned NATO’s utility, dismissed climate crusades, mocked international treaties, and, most unforgivable, declared that he would put America first. That phrase, so simple yet so devastating to the mandarins of multilateralism, signaled something deeper: the resurrection of sovereignty. It could not be allowed to stand.

By 2021, the counterattack had taken shape. Legal warfare, once the exclusive domain of banana republics, was rebranded and refined as a tool of elite preservation. The strategy: if the ballot box produces the wrong result, change the judge. If the people err, prosecute their champion. Trump was hit with a fusillade of indictments, not because he is unusually corrupt, but because he is unusually disruptive. The pattern has metastasized. From Paris to Bucharest, Caracas to Dublin, nationalist leaders are being purged not by plebiscite but by process.

Marine Le Pen, once again the front-runner in the French presidential race, was neatly removed from contention through a judicial maneuver so timed and tidy one might mistake it for satire. On March 27, 2025, she was sentenced to a two-year suspended prison term and barred from public office for five years, effectively ending her 2027 candidacy. The charge? Alleged misuse of European Parliament funds, a case launched in 2016, revived without fanfare just as her polling numbers peaked. Over a dozen members of her National Rally party were likewise ensnared. The message was unmistakable: challenge Brussels, and you will be removed. Not debated. Not defeated. Removed.

The United States, now again under Trump’s leadership, has taken unprecedented steps to confront this new form of transnational political suppression. In May 2025, Secretary of State Marco Rubio authorized an investigatory mission to France to examine the legal proceedings against Le Pen. The US team, which includes career diplomats and legal observers, will assess whether international norms regarding democratic participation and judicial impartiality were violated. According to one senior State Department official, “If the US is to champion democracy, we cannot turn a blind eye when it is strangled by procedure rather than preserved by principle.”

Nor is France alone. In the United Kingdom, where political prosecutions increasingly cloak themselves in “hate speech” jurisprudence, Trump has dispatched a parallel team to review the jailing of Lucy Connolly, a populist firebrand arrested for what British authorities describe as incitement against migrants. Her defenders argue that her speech, however inflammatory, was plainly political. She was not tried by jury but condemned by a panel whose allegiance to the ruling party is, at best, suspect. American officials have requested transcripts, court documents, and access to Connolly’s legal team. The message, again, is clear: the Trump administration intends to confront, not accommodate, global lawfare.

In Eastern Europe, the illusion of democratic procedure has been similarly weaponized. Romania’s presidential election in November 2024 was upended when nationalist outsider Călin Georgescu, who won the first round, was suddenly declared ineligible. The cause? Accusations of Russian interference, though no credible evidence was ever produced. Within days, he was arrested for “communicating false information” and “promoting fascism,” charges as conveniently vague as they are politically lethal. His removal nullified the voters’ verdict.

One need not endorse Georgescu’s views to grasp the threat. When the people’s will is retroactively invalidated through judicial intervention, democracy becomes a simulation, not a reality. Once again, Trump has responded. The State Department has contacted Romanian authorities requesting a detailed account of the court’s findings and the legal basis for the annulment. While critics call the intervention unprecedented, defenders argue that America’s moral leadership depends upon its willingness to challenge injustice, even when it wears a robe.

This new approach marks a decisive philosophical shift. Previous administrations, from Bush to Biden, paid homage to the international order even as it rotted from within. Trump, by contrast, treats sovereignty not as a relic but as a right. His foreign policy assumes that democracy means self-determination, not elite curation. The investigation into Le Pen’s case is not mere theater; it is the first salvo in a counteroffensive against the weaponization of law.

The trend is global and unmistakable. In Brazil, Jair Bolsonaro is ensnared in a judicial spiderweb designed to prevent his political resurrection. Ireland has prepared charges against Conor McGregor under nebulous “hate speech” provisions. In Pakistan, Imran Khan sits in prison, his party decapitated before elections could be held. In Turkey, Istanbul’s mayor has been jailed for alleged ties to terrorism, charges his supporters regard as fiction. In each case, the pattern is the same. Nationalists rise, globalists recoil, courts intervene.

And still the architects of this jurisprudential coup insist they are defending democracy. But as any student of logic will note, defending democracy by voiding elections is a contradiction. If democracy is to mean anything, it must include the right to elect those whom the elite loathe. Otherwise, it is mere spectacle.

Trump’s willingness to use the diplomatic tools of the US government to expose this farce is both bold and necessary. If France or the UK can banish their opposition with the stroke of a judge’s pen, then the lesson is simple: legality is not justice. The law, once a shield for the people, has become a cudgel for the ruling class.

In sending observers to France, Romania, and the UK, the Trump administration is doing more than gathering evidence. It is issuing a warning: the age of passive accommodation is over. The US will no longer grant automatic legitimacy to foreign prosecutions that function as political purges.

For the globalist order, this is an existential threat. Their power lies not in persuasion, but in process. They wield courts as swords and bureaucracies as shields. Trump’s crime was to question their divinity. His re-election gives him the power to expose their secular heresies.

But this fight extends beyond Trump. It concerns the survival of political choice itself. If voters cannot choose their leaders without fear that judges will unchoose them, then democracy has already died. What remains is oligarchy, dressed up in robes and gavels.

So yes, the investigations into Le Pen and Connolly are controversial. Good. They should be. Nothing less than the integrity of self-governance is at stake. The ballot box must not become an anteroom to the dock.