By all appearances, the recent social media exchange between U.S. President Donald Trump and former Russian President Dmitry Medvedev — now Deputy Chairman of Russia’s Security Council — may seem like another typical clash of egos. But beneath the surface lies something far more calculated and revealing.
It began with Medvedev accusing Trump of playing a dangerous game of ultimatums over Ukraine, warning that such tactics could lead to war — not just with Kyiv, but directly with the United States. Trump, never one to back down, responded not just with words, but with action: ordering the deployment of two U.S. nuclear submarines.
For many observers, this was not simply a reaction to a provocation — it was a performance, a geopolitical theater piece with carefully chosen players and scripts. Trump made clear his view that “words matter” and can trigger “unintended consequences.” But perhaps it was precisely those consequences that Trump wanted to engineer.
Medvedev’s remarks were blunt: Russia, he said, “is not Israel, and not even Iran,” suggesting that Washington should take Moscow far more seriously. Trump’s retort, posted on his Truth Social platform, carried both threat and theater: “In response to the provocative remarks by the failed former president of Russia, I have ordered two nuclear submarines into position.”
So why escalate over a verbal jab from someone the U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio later dismissed as politically irrelevant?
Because Medvedev was never the real target. The escalation gave Trump something he needed: a justification. A reason to remind the world — and perhaps distract it — while sending a message to allies, adversaries, and voters alike. When Trump publicly confirms that nuclear submarines are “where they are supposed to be,” we should ask: Why tell us at all? Strategic deployments of that nature are typically kept secret.
Some suggest the submarines are now in the Black Sea, a move that would violate the Montreux Convention unless Türkiye explicitly approved it — something unlikely, given Ankara’s carefully balanced relations with both Washington and Moscow. So either the Black Sea theory is flawed, or the public is being fed a convenient decoy.
That’s exactly what some analysts now believe. Russian outlet VFocus Mail floated the idea — citing Moscow State University professor Andrey Manoilov — that the Medvedev spat was orchestrated as a cover for relocating the submarines to an undisclosed, strategically sensitive location, far from Russia. In this reading, Medvedev — ironically — played into Trump’s hands, helping Washington achieve its goal under the guise of a Twitter tantrum.
This interpretation isn’t far-fetched. The timing, the choreography, the unusually public nature of the military movements — all suggest a layered strategy. Trump had been visibly frustrated that his efforts to broker peace in Ukraine weren’t being taken seriously. In his own words, “We had many good talks with Putin where we could have ended it all — and now the bombs are falling again.” With the peace narrative slipping away, Trump needed a new storyline — one that reinforced strength, resolve, and unpredictability.
Enter Medvedev, the perfect foil: bombastic, controversial, and sufficiently irrelevant to pose no real danger — but prominent enough to be useful. Trump’s description of him as a “failed ex-president who still thinks he’s in charge” wasn’t just an insult — it was bait.
And Medvedev took it.
His wounded response — “If my words make the mighty U.S. President so nervous, then Russia must be right” — only added fuel to the narrative fire Trump was building. From there, the message was easy to spin: America responds to threats, defends its interests, and won’t be intimidated — even by the ghost of Kremlin politics past.
The irony? While Medvedev may believe he defended Russia’s honor, he may have done the opposite: he handed Trump the excuse he needed to flex American power and distract from the stalling peace process.
Let’s also not forget the domestic angle. Trump thrives on drama. He relishes confrontation, especially on the global stage. A made-for-TV confrontation with a Russian official plays well with his base — a reminder that he’s still “tough on Russia,” even as his critics accuse him of softness or worse. It plays into the persona he wants to project ahead of the upcoming election: bold, decisive, unafraid.
And then there’s the timing of his special envoy Steven Witkoff’s trip to Moscow — another subplot in the saga. Trump casually mentioned it to reporters, noting that Russia had invited him. Why now? Why frame it against the backdrop of military escalation and verbal warfare? Perhaps to create contrast. The tough guy on one hand, the dealmaker on the other.
In the end, the Trump–Medvedev exchange may not have changed the course of U.S.–Russia relations — but it did change the narrative. It gave Trump a way to reassert control of the conversation, showcase strength, and possibly mask more complex maneuvers behind a veil of online drama.
Was it reckless? Maybe. Was it strategic? Almost certainly.
And as always with Trump, the theater is the message.
By Tural Heybatov
