A high-voltage exchange: the digital farce between Trump and Medvedev over the submarines that no one sees.

In a world where diplomacy seems to have moved to social media, a new chapter in the tense relationship between the West and Russia has been written with 280-character tweets and stinging statements. The protagonist of this story is not a direct military conflict, but a war of words involving nuclear submarines , those steel giants that sail silently beneath the planet's waters and, by their very nature, are almost impossible to track. On one side of the ring, former US President Donald Trump, with his direct and confrontational style. On the other, Dmitry Medvedev, former Russian president and current right-hand man to Vladimir Putin on the Security Council, known for his increasingly sharp rhetoric.

Nuclear submarines

Things began to heat up when Trump , in one of his now-classic remarks, claimed to have sent "one or two" of these submarines to the Russian coast. A statement that, if true, would represent an escalation of major proportions, a movement of pieces on the global chessboard that would make anyone's hair stand on end. However, the response from Moscow was swift and came with a dose of irony and disdain. Medvedev, far from appearing alarmed, chose the path of sarcasm to dismiss the American magnate's words.

This back-and-forth, which seems more like the script for a low-budget spy movie than a communication between powers, raises more questions than answers and brings to the fore an uncomfortable reality: the trivialization of a threat that could wipe entire cities off the map . While ordinary people worry about whether the weed will grow again or whether they'll have enough money to pay the electricity bill, a dangerous game is being played in high places with global security as the ball.

The origin of the crossing: bluffs or strategy?

To understand this mess, we have to rewind the tape a bit. In August, Trump had already floated the idea of ​​moving two nuclear submarines to "appropriate regions" in response to Medvedev's previous statements about the risk of nuclear war. What at the time seemed like just another bravado gained momentum with his new statements, in which he even called the Russian politician "stupid." Trump's statement wasn't just a passing comment; it was a reaffirmation of his hardline stance, a message both to the Kremlin and to his own voter base.

For his part, Medvedev picked up the gauntlet and responded through his account on the social network X, in English, so that the message could be received without intermediaries. “A new episode of the series 'Nuclear submarines for publications on X,'” he began. And he finished with a sharp metaphor: “As the saying goes, it's hard to find a black cat in a dark room, especially if it's not there.” In Creole: you're selling us smoke. With this move, the deputy of the Russian Security Council not only denied the major issue, but also attempted to paint Trump as an unbelievable character, a leader who talks more than he does.

The backdrop for this whole farce is, of course, the war in Ukraine. Every statement, every tweet, is a pawn moving on this complex chessboard. Trump, with his promise to end the conflict "within 24 hours," seeks to position himself as an effective negotiator, even if his methods are unorthodox. Medvedev, meanwhile, plays the role of the Kremlin's "bad cop," issuing warnings and disqualifications that Putin, perhaps given his position, prefers to avoid. It's a perfectly calculated role-playing game where nothing is accidental.

The doctrine of silence and the power of the invisible

Now, let's look for the fifth leg of the cat. Did Trump really send those submarines? The answer, quite simply, is that it's impossible to know. And that, precisely, is the key to everything. The main strategic advantage of a nuclear-powered submarine, especially one carrying ballistic missiles (known as SSBNs), is their ability to remain hidden for months in the depths of the ocean. Their location is one of the best-kept secrets of any military power. The Pentagon's official policy has always been to "neither confirm nor deny" the position of its nuclear assets.

This doctrine of silence is not a whim. It is the basis of nuclear deterrence. The idea is that a potential enemy never knows for sure where a retaliatory strike might come from, thus guaranteeing "mutually assured destruction." For a president, or former president, to start airing the alleged location of these ships is, at the very least, a complete breach of protocol. This leads us to two possible scenarios:

• Scenario 1: It's a bluff. Trump is using the idea of ​​nuclear submarines as a tool of psychological pressure, a "taunt" to show strength without making any real moves. He knows it's unverifiable and is taking advantage of that ambiguity.
• Scenario 2: It's true. If he really gave that order, he would be revealing top-secret information and compromising the effectiveness of his own deterrent weapon. A move so risky that most analysts consider it unlikely.

In either case, the result is the same: a level of uncertainty and anxiety is introduced into an already volatile environment. Trust is eroded, and language that should be reserved for the worst crises is normalized. It's as if two neighbors shouted at each other in the hallway of their building and threatened to set fire to the whole building. Even if they don't, the rest of the tenants won't sleep peacefully.

The danger of playing war on a screen

Beyond who is right in this Twitter exchange, what is truly worrying is the deterioration of the debate on global security. Nuclear threats, which during the Cold War were a taboo subject handled with extreme caution through secret diplomatic channels, are now discussed with the same casualness with which a meme is shared. This phenomenon has concrete consequences.

On the one hand, it desensitizes public opinion. By hearing about "nuclear war" and "atomic submarines" on social media, people begin to perceive it as something distant, almost fictitious, losing track of the horror it would entail. On the other hand, it increases the risk of miscalculation. What would happen if one day one of these bravados was misinterpreted by the other side? What would happen if a general in Moscow or Washington took a Twitter statement as a real and imminent threat and activated a response protocol?

Ultimately, this exchange between Trump and Medvedev is much more than a colorful anecdote. It's a symptom of strange times, where the line between spectacle politics and decisions that affect the lives of millions of people is increasingly blurred. While they measure their egos on a digital platform, the doomsday clock, that symbolic marker of the risk of global catastrophe, continues to silently tick. And unlike Trump's submarines, this one is real and visible to everyone.