By Ted Snider, The American Conservative, 9/2/26

One day, the war in Ukraine will be over. When that day finally arrives, Ukraine may find itself transforming from the country that everyone fought over to the country that nobody wants to be burdened with. Ukraine has been caught in a tug of war, pulled between two sides that covet it: the United States and its European and Canadian allies to the west and Russia to the east. But after the war, Ukraine may find itself alone, abandoned by and disappointed in the West and with bitter memories of and animosity against the east.

In 2014, Ukrainian nationalists came to the conclusion that elections could no longer be trusted to deliver their monist vision of Ukraine in which the language, culture, and religion of the country’s ethnic Russian citizens had to be erased. So, for the first time in Ukraine’s history, they reversed an election with a coup. The central goal of that coup was to end Ukraine’s multivector foreign policy that balanced relations with Europe and Russia.

Reorienting toward the West meant economic cooperation with Europe and membership in the European Union. That political and economic goal was twinned with the security goal of membership in NATO. Membership in both was promised to Ukraine, and the West encouraged Ukraine to go on fighting Russia after its 2022 invasion, rather than negotiating a peace, in defense of its right to pursue those memberships. The war, the U.S. State Department explained at the beginning of the invasion, is “bigger than Russia, it’s bigger than Ukraine.” It is about “core principles,” specifically, 

the principle that each and every country has a sovereign right to determine its own foreign policy, has a sovereign right to determine for itself with whom it will choose to associate in terms of its alliances, its partnerships, and what orientation it wishes to direct its gaze.

Hundreds of thousands of Ukrainian lives have been destroyed in pursuit of those promises and goals. When the war finally ends, Ukrainians will have to rebuild their lives and rebuild their country. But the odds are good that their country will not be in the EU nor in NATO. If Ukraine faces west, they will find themselves abandoned and alone.

Russia long ago dropped its objection to Ukraine joining the EU, yet the path has not truly been cleared because the EU has refused to drop its own objections. Though most European leaders say they “strongly support” Kiev’s accession to the European Union, numerous problems including Ukrainian corruption and the country’s democratic deficit have thrown up roadblocks to membership.

Dreams of fast-tracking Ukraine’s EU membership have been dashed. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky’s demands for membership by 2027 have been revised to more realistic targets like 2035. Proposed compromises like “membership light” or “reverse enlargement” have gone nowhere. France and Germany have blocked them, and the plans never had the support of most member states.

Relations between Ukraine and Poland continue to deteriorate over Ukraine’s insistence on honoring its ultranationalist element, whose lineage traces back to groups that participated in the mass killing of Poles in the Second World War. Hungary, even after the ouster of its populist Prime Minister Viktor Orban, continues to block Ukraine’s accession over its treatment of Hungarian minorities.

Promises of NATO membership lie even more shattered. “Irreversible paths” and bridges have been promised to Ukraine, but walking the path has been prohibited and the bridge has never been built. Presidents Joe Biden and Donald Trump have both denied Ukraine membership in NATO. Biden said that “the likelihood that Ukraine is going to join NATO in the near term is not very likely” and that “Ukraine isn’t ready for NATO membership.” Trump said there would be “no going into NATO by Ukraine.” Ukraine’s European friends have said the same. Germany’s then-Chancellor Olaf Scholz said that the question of Ukraine’s NATO membership is “not even on the agenda.” Point number seven of Trump’s 28-point peace plan states that “Ukraine agrees to enshrine in its constitution that it will not join NATO, and NATO agrees to include in its statutes a provision that Ukraine will not be admitted in the future.” 

Zelensky long ago said “it must be acknowledged” that Ukraine “cannot enter” the “supposedly open” NATO door and that, though “publicly, the doors remain open,” in reality, Ukraine is “not going to be a NATO member.” 

At the end of the war, Ukraine will be left to face a West that has grown reluctant to fund its economic reconstruction and that declines to extend an invitation to join its political and security unions. Ukraine, at that point, may turn to an unlikely option: Russia.

It will not be easy or smooth. But Geoffrey Roberts, professor emeritus of history at University College Cork, has recently suggested that, after the war,

the best friend that Ukraine is going to have is Russia and the Russian people. That is where Ukraine’s ultimate future lies: in reconstructing its relationship with Russia. While immensely difficult, it represents the only viable long-term path for the Ukrainian people.

Russia has continued to frame the Ukrainian people as a brotherly nation and not a people to be devastated or destroyed. Acknowledging that fact is not to excuse Russia’s invasion nor the devastation it has caused. It is to suggest that Russia’s goal may have been to stop Ukraine from being used as a military bridgehead on Russia’s border and that, to do this, Russia focused on the Ukrainian armed forces and not the Ukrainian people.

Nicolai Petro, professor of political science at the University of Rhode Island, tells the unexpected story that, during direct negotiations between Russia and Ukraine, “to the astonishment of the Europeans present” the Russian and Ukrainian delegates “started to make jokes and to get along. Because essentially, they understood each other better—far better—than either of them understood the Europeans.” 

Any turn to the east will take time. But Ukraine’s natural future may lie in repaired relations with Russia. That may be necessitated by closed doors to the west and smoothed by shared language and family ties as well as commonalities of religion, culture, and history with Russia.

Two factors could determine if this reconstructed relationship is possible. The first is the trajectory of the war. Ukraine and Russia are unlikely to mend relations if “the war is fought to a finish, involving Ukrainian societal as well as military collapse, including large-scale civilian casualties,” Roberts told The American Conservative. But relations between the two countries could recover if “a negotiated settlement saves Ukraine’s statehood, provides for its future security, and supports its postwar reconstruction.” That recovery could be hastened and strengthened if Russia becomes a primary partner in reconstruction and if future trade relations are built into a settlement. 

The second factor is who leads Ukraine after the war. After nourishing the people of Ukraine throughout the war with maximalist promises of recovering all of its territory and gaining membership in NATO, Zelensky may find it difficult to sign a peace deal that accomplishes none of that and, moreover, allows the possibility of warmer relations with Russia in the future.

But polls suggest that Zelensky may not be the leader after Ukraine is able to hold presidential elections. And both his two main rivals, Valeriy Zaluzhny and Kyrylo Budanov, may be more likely to negotiate such a peace. Budanov has said recently that he is “ready for any step that will end the war,” and in office he maintained dialogue with Igor Kostyukov, the head of the GRU, Russia’s military intelligence agency.

At the end of the war, a devastated Ukraine will need somewhere to turn. With the long-promised door to the west closed, the badly-frayed but natural connection to Russia may be the only viable direction in which Ukraine can turn.

By Brian McDonald, Substack, 9/4/26

On Thursday [9/3], Russia analyst Anton Barbashin asked on X: “Do some journalists really have access to people from the Russian president’s inner circle? Why would such sources share sensitive information with the foreign press? Is this always manipulation?”

The answer to the first question is yes, and the answer to the second is that the people with the best access are generally the people least inclined to shout it from the rooftops.

There are a handful of journalists at Kommersant, RIA, Vedomosti, RBC and the major state broadcasters who genuinely know people in and around Putin’s inner circle and while nobody leaves them unattended with the filing cabinets, they know enough to recognise what’s really going on around the place.

Alexei Venediktov is an interesting case because, despite being designated a foreign agent, as Barbashin is too, incidentally, the former Echo of Moscow boss quite obviously still speaks to people at the top, but the difference is that the arm holding him at arm’s length has become considerably longer. So is the BBC’s Steve Rosenberg, who has become less a correspondent than a recurring character in Moscow’s political pantomime (and, to be fair to him, he seems perfectly aware of the part he is playing).

Then there are the journalists who remain inside the tent and, here Kommersant’s Andrey Kolesnikov is a good example, as his reports are often ironic and surprisingly sharp, but he knows where the limits lie. Thus, what he doesn’t do is claim that Putin privately told the Security Council Russia will be invading Armenia next Thursday, or write about the private lives of officials.

Which brings us to the Western press. When the FT, Economist, Bloomberg, New York Times or Wall Street Journal announces that somebody in Putin’s immediate circle has anonymously revealed what the Russian president secretly thinks, scepticism is generally the most advisable reaction.

People familiar with Moscow’s media world can often make a reasonable guess at who these mysterious interlocutors are and some may indeed be “close to the Kremlin”, though in approximately the sense that a man drinking in a pub near Clarence House is close to the King.

They know people who know people, but knowing a man who knows a man who once spoke to a man isn’t quite the same thing as sitting beside Putin, and they also evidently haven’t heard my erstwhile Irish editor’s maxim of “believe a quarter of what you hear, and half of what you see.”

Yet something miraculous happens during the journey west, as the further information travels from the Kremlin, the closer its source seems to get to Putin.

Since 2022, most Western organisations have closed or drastically reduced their Moscow operations, meaning that the correspondent who might once have met somebody over coffee or beer inside the Garden Ring is now sitting in Berlin, London, Riga, Tbilisi or New York, and operating online.

And here Barbashin’s second question becomes much more interesting, because let’s suppose you really were close enough to Putin to know the secrets routinely attributed to anonymous sources, well, why, in Russia in 2026, would you secretly transmit them to a foreign newspaper?

The paradox is therefore rather delicious, in that the more sensitive the supposed revelation, the more senior the source must be in order to know it, which naturally means his decision to leak it becomes even more puzzling.

There is, however, another explanation for some anonymous briefings, and it’s considerably less romantic. Sometimes the Kremlin wants the information published, but when it does, it hardly needs a trembling conspirator smuggling secrets through Checkpoint Charlie.

The Presidential Administration contains Alexei Gromov, Andrei Tsybulin, Sergei Kiriyenko and Alexander Smirnov alongside Dmitry Peskov, and they haven’t spent decades dealing with journalists without discovering how journalists work.

Reuters has often been an important conduit for anonymous signalling of this sort, with CNN and AP sometimes occupying similar territory.

Whether Reuters retains precisely the same position is now worth watching. Its Moscow bureau leadership is changing this week, with Kommersant suggesting that outgoing bureau chief Guy Faulconbridge’s departure followed dissatisfaction that his Russia coverage was too objective for contemporary British tastes.

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Russia Matters, 9/21/26

Ukrainians find domestic corruption more damaging than Russian bombs: A corruption scandal involving Serhiy Kropyva, an official linked to Ukraine’s  ousted prosecutor general, has intensified Ukrainians’ anger during wartime, according to NYT. Anti-corruption investigators allegedly recorded Kropyva discussing kickbacks for protecting a phone-scam network. The revelations reportedly helped topple Prosecutor General Ruslan Kravchenko, but also deepened distrust in institutions. The scandal is damaging because Ukraine faces severe wartime funding shortages, connecting corruption to battlefield resilience and national survival, according to NYT. A 2025 summer Kyiv poll found that a majority of Ukrainians considered corruption more damaging to the country than Russian bombings.  

By Leon Vermeulen, Substack, 9/24/26

The EU’s latest attempt to gain control of Russia’s frozen reserves does not eliminate the legal liability. It transfers that liability from Belgium to the whole European Union—including countries that may vote against the plan.

Ukraine needs more money.

The European Union’s €90 billion financing package for 2026 and 2027 is no longer considered sufficient. Kyiv says it needs an additional €27 billion for defence in 2026, with another substantial shortfall expected in 2027.

The approximately €210 billion in frozen Russian Central Bank assets held within the EU have therefore returned to the political agenda. Most of the money is administered by Euroclear, the Belgian financial institution responsible for safeguarding and settling trillions of euros in international assets. Belgium has consistently resisted attempts to use the Russian principal. It fears litigation, Russian retaliation, damage to Euroclear and a broader loss of confidence in the euro.

Brussels has now been presented with a possible solution: move the Russian accounts out of Euroclear and into a new EU institution.

Three former senior officials proposed the idea in August. A cross-party group of 122 members of the European Parliament has subsequently called for its urgent consideration. The transfer, they argue, could be authorised under Article 122 of the EU treaties, which permits emergency economic measures without requiring the unanimous support of all member states. The new EU institution would become the custodian and assume “all legal obligations to the Central Bank of Russia.”

That language tells us almost everything we need to know.

Moving the liability

The proposal does not establish that Russia has ceased to own the assets. On the contrary, it acknowledges that Russia retains a legal claim.

Euroclear currently records the Russian money as a liability. If sanctions are eventually lifted, the Central Bank of Russia can demand repayment. Euroclear is presently prohibited from paying Russia, but the debt itself has not disappeared.

Normally, Euroclear could not simply transfer that obligation to someone else without the creditor’s consent. Russia would hardly volunteer to have its claim moved into an EU-controlled vehicle created to finance Ukraine.

Brussels must therefore use legislation to compel the transfer, remove the liability from Euroclear and place it on the European Union. That may reduce Belgium’s immediate exposure. It does not solve the underlying legal problem. It merely shares that problem among the 27 member states.

If the EU institution held the assets intact, it might reasonably be described as a new custodian. But that would produce no money for Ukraine.

If it lent or spent the principal while leaving Russia with a theoretical promise of eventual repayment, the arrangement would become confiscation in everything but name. A custodian safeguards another party’s property. It does not consume that property and replace it with a politically conditional promise.

The legal doubts have not disappeared

At the end of 2025, the European Central Bank refused to provide a financial backstop for an earlier €140 billion reparations-loan proposal. It concluded that such involvement would breach the EU prohibition on monetary financing.

ECB President Christine Lagarde later described a revised proposal only as coming “closest” to compliance with international law. That was not confirmation of legality. It was a carefully qualified warning that the legal boundary had nearly—but not certainly—been reached.

Belgium remained unconvinced. So did Euroclear.

Euroclear’s chief executive, Valérie Urbain, warned that anything resembling confiscation could violate the international-law protections applying to sovereign assets. She even declined to rule out legal action against EU institutions if Euroclear’s legal and fiduciary duties were compromised.

The latest proposal does not produce a favourable court judgment or create a newly recognised exception to sovereign immunity. It constructs another institutional route to the same money while moving the resulting liability elsewhere.

Brussels may call this legal innovation. International investors may call it circumvention.

Who pays if Russia wins?

This is the question that must be answered before any vote takes place. Suppose the EU transfers the assets to its new custodian and then lends or spends the money. Years later, a competent court rules that the assets must be returned to their legal owner.

Who produces the €210 billion?

Ukraine is extremely unlikely to repay it. Euroclear is supposed to have been released from the liability. Belgium is supposed to have been protected. The new EU custodian will have no independent reserve large enough to satisfy the judgment because the money will already have been used.

The bill would therefore return to the European Union.

The EU would have to recapitalise the custodian, draw upon member-state guarantees, use the EU budget or borrow additional money. Whichever mechanism was chosen, the ultimate burden would fall upon member states and their taxpayers.

This risk is not hypothetical speculation. During the debate in December 2025, one draft offered Belgium and other countries holding Russian assets unlimited protection against successful Russian claims. It proposed “unconditional, irrevocable and on-demand” guarantees ensuring that the Russian Central Bank could be repaid if necessary.

Several governments objected precisely because the guarantee was uncapped.

The Commission therefore understood the problem. If the assets were used and a court later required their restitution, somebody would have to replace the money.

The proposed change of custodian does not eliminate that liability. It moves it from Euroclear’s balance sheet to Europe’s public balance sheet.

Outvoted when the money is taken—charged when it must be returned

Article 122 introduces an even more troubling issue. Because a decision under Article 122 does not require unanimity, member states opposing the transfer could be outvoted. But once an EU regulation has been validly adopted, it normally binds the entire Union.

A government voting against the use of the Russian assets would not necessarily escape the financial consequences. Unless the final legislation specifically exempted dissenting countries, they could still be required to contribute through the EU budget, national guarantees, higher future contributions or repayment of additional EU borrowing.

Hungary, Slovakia, Belgium or another opposing state could therefore be outvoted when the assets were taken—and later charged for returning them. This is not merely a legal curiosity. It is a serious question of democratic and fiscal legitimacy.

A qualified majority could impose a contingent liability approaching €210 billion upon every member state, including those that explicitly refused to accept the risk. National taxpayers might inherit an obligation that their own governments opposed and their national parliaments never approved.

Article 122 may allow the Council to make an emergency economic decision. It cannot make €210 billion appear if the courts eventually order repayment.

Nor is it certain that the EU can use the same qualified-majority procedure to obtain unlimited national guarantees or raise whatever new resources would then be required. The authority to assume a liability and the authority to collect the money needed to satisfy it are not necessarily the same.

Europe could therefore discover that it was relatively easy to authorise the spending but politically and constitutionally much harder to finance the consequences.

Investors will understand the message

The EU urgently needs investment. It wants hundreds of billions of euros for defence, energy infrastructure, industrial renewal, digital technology and economic competitiveness. Europe cannot finance all of this from taxation and public borrowing. It requires international capital and continued confidence in euro-denominated assets.

Yet, at precisely this moment, it is debating how to gain control of assets entrusted to Europe’s own financial institutions.

EU officials will say that Russia is an exceptional case. Russia invaded Ukraine, and international law requires an aggressor to pay reparations. They will emphasise the differences between immobilisation, collateralisation and confiscation.

Foreign governments and international investors may reach a simpler conclusion: when political relations deteriorate, assets held in Europe can become political instruments.

They do not have to remove every euro tomorrow. They need only place less of their next investment in Europe. Central banks can increase their holdings of gold, diversify their reserves, use different custodians and conduct more trade through payment systems outside Western control. Each decision may be small. The cumulative effect could be enormous.

Financial trust is built slowly and lost quickly. Once governments begin questioning whether assets held in Europe remain beyond political reach, no regulation from Brussels can order them to forget the precedent.

Spending Europe’s negotiating leverage

The Russian assets are also more than a potential source of money. They are one of Europe’s few substantial bargaining instruments in an eventual peace settlement.

Donald Trump understands their value. His reported 28-point peace proposal treated $100 billion of frozen Russian assets as capital for American-controlled reconstruction projects, with the United States receiving half the profits. Other funds could support future Russian-American ventures.

Washington therefore views the assets not simply as compensation for Ukraine but as negotiable capital.

Using the money now might prevent Washington and Moscow from determining its future without Europe. But it would also eliminate Europe’s own leverage. Once spent, the assets could no longer be exchanged for reparations, security arrangements, sanctions concessions or Russian recognition of a wider settlement. Europe would have consumed one of its few remaining cards to cover another temporary financing shortfall.

And the demands would continue. The €210 billion is finite; the cost of sustaining Ukraine is recurring. Using the assets might postpone the next financial crisis, but it cannot permanently finance the war.

The real cost

Brussels may succeed in constructing an EU institution capable of taking over the Russian accounts. It may distribute the liability so widely that Belgium and Euroclear no longer stand alone. It may even prevail before European courts.

But success within the EU legal system would not restore international confidence. The world would still have watched Brussels redesign its arrangements until it found a mechanism capable of reaching assets whose legal ownership it continued to recognise.

And European taxpayers would be left carrying the risk. If the courts eventually ordered restitution, the same governments that told their citizens the Russian assets would finance Ukraine could be forced to explain why those citizens must now finance Russia’s repayment.

That lesson could last much longer than the money.

Brussels may devise a mechanism allowing a qualified majority to spend Russia’s assets today. It cannot guarantee that a future court will uphold that decision—and it cannot prevent Europe’s taxpayers from receiving the bill tomorrow.

By Sylvia Demarest, Substack, 9/15/26

Introduction

On September 14, 2026, the US confirmed that for the first time that the US Space Force had stationed arms in earth’s orbit. Air Force Secretary Troy E. Meink did not provide details about the type of weapons or reveal when they had been deployed. The Space Force did not immediately respond to a request for comment. With this action the US becomes the first nation to place arms in space. This could result in a dangerous arms race, a war in space, or even the placement of nuclear weapons, in space.

China’s foreign ministry spokesman Guo Jiakun, immediately urged the US to “stop expanding its military force and preparing for war in outer space.

Russia also criticized the move and said that the outer space much be kept “free of any weapons” and called for countries worldwide to make sure of that. “We are counting on broad international consolidation to continue working toward the complete demilitarization of space,” said Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov.

Here’s the New York Times: “This is a response to Pentagon fears that China and Russia are making advances in space operations that could threaten U.S. ground forces as well as American satellites.”

“In 2024, The New York Times reported that American intelligence agencies had raised concerns that Russia could be planning to put a nuclear weapon in space, a threat that could disrupt satellite networks that are vital to everything from communications to military operations.”

“Shortly after President Trump returned to the White House last year, he signed an executive order to expand American air defenses, including the development and deployment of “space-based interceptors.” The project, named the Golden Dome, would be designed to guard against weapons such as hypersonic missiles, which Russia has deployed in Ukraine.”

“The United States, Russia and China began testing weapons capable of destroying satellites decades ago, but the United States has since disavowed such arms because they leave destructive debris fields in orbit.”

“In recent years, the Air Force started developing “low-debris-causing weapons” capable of disrupting or disabling enemy satellites, Frank Kendall, who served as Air Force secretary under President Joe Biden, told The Times in a 2024 interview.”

“Gen. Chance Saltzman, who served as the Space Force’s chief of space operations during the Biden and second Trump administrations until his retirement last month, told a Senate committee in 2023 that the new space weapons systems would be fully operational by 2026.”

“Neither Mr. Kendall nor Gen. Saltzman specified how the systems would work. Other former Pentagon officials have said they likely would include lasers, high-powered microwave systems or even U.S. satellites that can grab or move enemy satellites.”

“Mr. Kendall said in 2024 that it was prudent to recognize that space “is a place that can be used for military advantage.””

The US, under Trump, has taken the first step, a step that could lead to an arms race in space.

Speculation that the Space Force Destroyed a Chinese Satellite

On September 14^th the Substack, Coffee and Covid, discussed the possible use by Iran of satellite images obtained from China to target US military bases in the Middle East. One attack resulted in the deaths of 3 US soldiers.

The Substack noted this article “Chinese Satellite Breaks Apart in Rare Orbit That Could Hold Debris for Centuries.” The Substack reported that “China’s six-month-old Yaogan-50 ‘reconnaissance’ satellite had experienced what aerospace professionals call an “anomalous event,” which is a technical phrase meaning the expensive spacecraft is now a large collection of much smaller and less expensive objects.”

The Substack noted that the monitoring website, Gunter’s Space Page, had dated the Yaogan-50’s breakup to around late July. On July 20th, President Trump tweeted, “Every time Iran kills an American Soldier they will pay for that killing many times over!”

The Substack concluded: “On July 20, Trump promised revenge. And around late July —days following the base strike— a Chinese military spy satellite in an exotic retrograde orbit abruptly became 47 commemorative diplomatic paperweights traveling several miles per second. To be fair, there is no proof that the United States transformed Yaogan-50 into Yaogan-1-through-47. Nor would there be. That’s the whole point.”

Let’s be clear–If the US Space Force destroyed this Chinese satellite, this was a very stupid thing to do and will surely rebound on the US in many very dangerous and unknown ways. A battle over satellites in space would represent an attack on civilization itself and could harm the US as much or more than Russia or China because the US is completely dependent of satellite imagery for communication, navigation, intelligence gathering, travel, and targeting. If this happened, it is another example of out-of-control militarism and would represent yet another idiotic decision on the part of Donald Trump, the consequences of which will outlast his term.

In response I left this comment on the Substack’s website:

“Given how dependent the US is on satellites, if the Space force did take out that Chinese satellite, it may be an act we will live to regret. Two can play this game and given how the US is using our satellites so that Ukraine can target and kill Russians, whatever kind of “gentleman’s agreement” the major powers had was breached long ago—by the US and NATO! Both China and Russia have the ability to target and destroy our satellites. If this is done at scale, satellites in space will no longer be safe because of all the debris. This is why wiser heads in Moscow and Beijing have not done something so foolish. If this satellite was intentionally destroyed, this is yet another example of a dangerous and unnecessary escalation.”

The History of the Space Force

On December 20, 2019, President Donald J. Trump signed into law legislation creating the first new armed service since 1947–the U.S. Space Force. The new armed service was part of the Defense Authorization Act of 2020 which authorized $738 billion for the US military. The legislation authorizes the organizing, training and equipping the Space Force.

“Space is the world’s newest warfighting domain,” Trump said at Andrews. “Amid grave threats to our national security, American superiority in space is absolutely vital. We’re leading, but we’re not leading by enough, and very shortly, we’ll be leading by a lot.”

Space Force will help the United States “deter aggression and control the ultimate high ground”, the president said. Since Trump took office, the US has spent almost $2.5 trillion on the military.

Later the Space Force’s mission was declared to be to “secure our Nation’s interest in, from, and to space.”

On Friday January 24^th, 2020, the White House officially unveiled the seal of the new U S Space Force, with commentors immediately noting its similarity to the logo of the Star Fleet Command from Star Wars. Others pointed out that the Starfleet logo likely was based on the symbol used for the early US Army Air Forces, which used the delta symbol as well as early Air Force space organization emblems dating back to 1961.

“After consultation with our Great Military Leaders, designers, and others, I am pleased to present the new logo for the United States Space Force, the Sixth Branch of our Magnificent Military!” President Trump tweeted.

In early September 2026 President Trump sent out an image of the proposed Space Force uniforms. Again, this drew immediate comparisons to pop culture as resembling a Starfleet and uniforms likened to “Battleship Galactica” and “Star Wars”

Below is the design of the Space Force dress uniforms.

Militarism Uber Alles or as they say “live by the sword, die by the sword”.

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