Feb 1, 2026
Trump Is Achilles
A Davos moment reframed through Achilles: how Trump’s pressure-and-withdrawal tactics mirror Homer’s hero and what that means for markets, volatility, and capital flows.
Trump Is Achilles
Davos, January 21, 2026.
Trump had just said “we probably won’t use military force,” and the entire room exhaled.
A week earlier, he was threatening tariffs on Europe and hinting at troops in Greenland. Denmark deployed forces. NATO conducted military exercises. The EU prepared $110 billion in retaliatory tariffs. The whole world was asking: Is this going to be war?
Then, one speech, a “framework agreement” reached, tariffs withdrawn.
From “going to war” to “deal done” in one week.
I stared at the news for a long time, and suddenly thought of someone.
In 1200 BCE, beneath the walls of Troy, there was another man who used the same method to get everything he wanted.
His name was Achilles.
The Greek coalition besieged Troy for nine years with no progress.
The army’s problem wasn’t lack of soldiers – it was political paralysis.
Agamemnon was the nominal commander, but he was both greedy and cowardly. He took Achilles’ war prize – the captive woman Briseis – not because he needed her, but because he needed to prove he was still the boss.
This is the classic symptom of a decaying system: Leaders no longer solve problems; they only maintain their own positions.
Achilles was furious. He withdrew from battle and watched as the Greeks were slaughtered by the Trojans.
Homer didn’t write Achilles as a saint. He was volatile, proud, vindictive, and reckless. But Homer didn’t write him as a villain either.
Because Homer understood something:
When a system fails, it doesn’t produce moderate reformers. It produces Achilles.
The Iliad told us long ago: When one person’s emotions become bound to a system’s fate, the world will shake violently.
What was Achilles’ most powerful move?
Withdrawal.
He let the entire army suffer, watching his comrades die, just to prove one thing:
Without me, you can’t win.
This isn’t petulance. This is an extreme form of power play – a high-capability individual’s reverse blackmail of the system.
Trump’s behavioral pattern is nearly a perfect replica:
- Won’t comply? Flip the table – Tariff threats, withdrawing from agreements, tearing up treaties
- Not acknowledged? Walk away – Refused to concede defeat in 2020, to this day
- Not winning? Question the rules – The election was rigged, the media is the enemy, the system is a fraud
When ordinary people do this, it’s called “being difficult.”
But when your capabilities are so great that the system can’t function without you, it’s called leverage.
Achilles had god-given weapons and an immortal body.
What does Trump have? Votes, attention, and a base willing to flip the table for him.
The system needs these things to function. So the system has no choice but to accept the blackmail.
Back to late 2025.
Trump announced: America wants Greenland.
The world’s reaction: Has he lost his mind?
Denmark is a NATO ally. Greenland is Danish territory. This isn’t negotiation – it’s robbery.
Then Trump started “going crazy”:
- Threatened punitive tariffs on Europe
- Hinted that military force wasn’t off the table
- Listed Denmark as “a threat to U.S. national security”
Denmark deployed troops. Eight NATO countries held joint military exercises. The EU prepared $110 billion in retaliatory tariffs. Protesters filled the streets of Copenhagen.
Everyone was asking: Is this going to be war?
Then, Davos.
Trump said casually: “We probably won’t use military force. Unless I decide to use overwhelming force – in which case, frankly, no one can stop us. But I won’t do that.”
The same day, he announced a “Greenland framework agreement” with the NATO Secretary General. Tariff threats withdrawn.
From “going to war” to “framework agreement” in one week.
You might think this is chaos. But if you’ve read The Iliad, you’ll recognize it as a complete methodology.
Step One: Create unbearable pressure.
After Achilles withdrew from battle, the Greek coalition suffered defeat after defeat. The Trojans pushed to the gates of the camp and burned their ships.
What was Achilles doing? Playing the lyre in his tent.
He was waiting. Waiting until everyone realized: without him, this war can’t be won.
Trump’s tariff threats and military hints are the same operation: Make the other side realize that the cost of opposing me is more than they can bear.
Step Two: Pull back at the peak.
Achilles didn’t let the Greeks be completely destroyed. At the most critical moment, he let his friend Patroclus wear his armor into battle, saving the situation.
Trump didn’t actually start a war either. At Davos, he explicitly said “no military force,” then immediately switched to negotiation mode.
This isn’t inconsistency. It’s precise calculation: push pressure to the breaking point, then offer an off-ramp.
Step Three: Get something substantial.
After Patroclus died, Achilles returned to the battlefield, killed Hector, avenged his friend, and secured victory for the Greeks.
What did Trump get? The details of the “framework agreement” aren’t clear yet, but according to the New York Times, NATO members are discussing letting the U.S. obtain partial land sovereignty in Greenland.
From “impossible” to “under discussion” – that’s the result an Achilles-type figure achieves.
You might say: This is politics. What does it have to do with my trading?
Everything.
What is the essence of the market? Pricing the future.
And the future is shaped by those in power.
Achilles-type leaders have three characteristics that directly affect markets:
- High volatility, but clear direction
He creates panic. Every time he “goes crazy,” the market trembles. During the Greenland incident, European stocks fell for three consecutive days, and safe-haven money poured into U.S. Treasuries.
But after the trembling? Capital still flows where he points.
Because the market quickly realizes: he’s not actually trying to destroy everything – he’s negotiating. And his negotiations usually win.
- What he wants is clear
What does Greenland have? Rare earths, lithium, graphite, copper – all the lifeblood of new energy and defense industries.
The logic behind Trump’s “madness” is terrifyingly clear:
- Control strategic resources
- Bring manufacturing home
- Reduce dependence on Chinese supply chains
These aren’t empty words. The tariffs are real. The sanctions are real. The industrial policy is real.
Follow the policy. Don’t fight it.
- He will reshape capital flows
The most interesting consequence of the Greenland incident?
Europe realized: America is no longer a reliable ally. But at the same time, Europe also realized: without America, they’re even more vulnerable.
What’s the result of this psychological contradiction?
European capital will accelerate its flow into America.
Not because of trust, but because there’s no alternative. Just like the Greek coalition didn’t like Achilles, but they needed him.
Based on the above analysis, some specific thoughts:
- Volatility is your friend, not your enemy
Achilles-type leaders create volatility. But volatility = opportunity.
When he talks tough and the market panics – that’s a buying opportunity.
When he pulls back and the market celebrates – that’s a time to reduce positions.
Don’t chase shorts during panic. Don’t chase highs during euphoria.
- Hold what he “wants” for the long term
Rare earths, lithium, energy infrastructure, defense contractors, domestic U.S. manufacturing – these are the long-term themes.
No matter how uncomfortable his methods are, the resource flow direction is certain.
- Be careful with what he “doesn’t want”
Globalized supply chains, companies overly dependent on the Chinese market, European exporters – these will continue to face pressure.
- Watch European capital flows
After all this, European institutional investors will reassess risk. Most likely result: more capital flowing into U.S. assets.
U.S. stocks, U.S. Treasuries, the dollar – may all be stronger than most people expect.
At this point, I must honestly address the other side of Achilles-type figures.
In The Iliad, Achilles’ problem isn’t that he’s “not strong.” His problem is:
He cannot shift his self-worth from “being respected” to “bearing consequences.”
When Agamemnon took his war prize, he let the entire coalition suffer. Only after Patroclus died did he feel regret. But by then, the consequences were irreversible.
Trump’s controversies are essentially about the same thing.
What he can do:
- Mobilize – turning the silent majority into an angry force
- Tear down the old order – breaking the calcified establishment monopoly
- Make “the ignored” visible – groups excluded by elite discourse
What he struggles to do:
- Maintain long-term institutional stability
- Handle gray areas and failure
- Accept “impersonal rule constraints”
This is the fate of Achilles-type figures: They are destroyers, not builders.
They can win wars, but what happens after?
After Troy fell, the Greek coalition scattered. Achilles himself died beneath the walls of Troy – shot in the heel by an arrow, his only weakness.
All extreme power comes with extreme cost.
I’m not writing this article to defend Trump, nor to attack him.
What I want to do is bypass the “battle of positions” and directly touch the relationship between personality and power.
Achilles wasn’t a villain. He was a hero, but he also let countless people die because of his anger.
Trump isn’t just “good” or “bad.” He’s an extreme figure who swings between rightness and destruction.
The appearance of such figures isn’t random. They are products of system failure, and also tools for the system’s self-correction.
The key question is: After the correction, who cleans up the mess?
This isn’t a question we as investors need to answer. But it’s a risk we need to be aware of.
Achilles can help you win a battle in a war. But if you’re betting your entire fortune on him, you need to know where his heel is.
When I read The Iliad, I always had complicated feelings about Achilles.
He was arrogant, volatile, reckless. While the Greeks were bleeding, he was sulking in his tent. For personal grievances, he let countless comrades die.
But in the end, it was he who killed Hector. It was he who ended the war.
History doesn’t reward the moderate. History rewards the effective.
Trump makes many people uncomfortable. His methods are crude, his words offensive, his actions unpredictable.
But the Greenland affair tells us: his methods work.
As investors, we don’t need to like him. We need to understand him.
Understand what he wants, understand his methods, then stand on the winning side.
Achilles won Troy.
Investing was never about choosing the person you like. It’s about choosing the side that wins.
Sources:
When institutions can no longer stably distribute dignity, meaning, and rewards, the system “summons” extreme personalities to solve its problems.
Achilles wasn’t a hero who appeared by chance. He was the person a failing order “needed.”
A healthy system doesn’t need Achilles – it prefers Odysseus: patient, strategic, capable of delayed gratification. Rules are predictable, honor accumulates, and conflicts can be absorbed by institutions.
But when rules lose credibility, distribution becomes unbalanced, and ordinary effort goes unrewarded, the system starts to “prefer” a different type: someone with highly concentrated emotions, extreme actions, and the ability to leverage personal will to shift the situation.
Why?
Because the system can’t solve “dignity distribution.” When contribution != reward and capability != respect, dignity becomes personified – “I’m strong, I deserve respect; if you don’t respect me, I’ll destroy the system.” Achilles’ rage is essentially a personal claim against a failing institution.
Because the system needs “non-conventional energy.” A decaying system needs rapid mobilization, needs to counter ossification, and Achilles-type figures don’t follow rules – emotion is their fuel, and they can generate enormous momentum in the short term. The system knows it’s dangerous but has no choice.
Because extreme personalities are easiest to “mythologize.” When rational narratives fail, people turn to emotion, emotion needs a vessel, and the vessel needs heroes or demons. Achilles fits perfectly: simple, intense, black and white.
The final judgment:
Achilles-type figures aren’t historical anomalies. They are a statistical inevitability in the decline phase of systems.
The moment they appear, what should really be questioned was never them.
It’s the system that made them necessary.