In the final days of October 2026, the United States is being discussed in Russia, South Africa and Turkey less as an abstract superpower than as a country that is increasingly turning foreign policy into a series of short-term deals: fuel in exchange for political flexibility, market access in exchange for concessions, and weapons and sanctions as bargaining chips in personal negotiations. Local commentators reach much the same broad conclusion: under Donald Trump, Washington has become less predictable, but no less influential. The difference is that Moscow sees this as an opening, Ankara as a chance to lift long-standing restrictions, and Pretoria as a threat to its political and economic sovereignty.
The most widely discussed topic in Russia’s media landscape is the unexpected “diesel diplomacy” between Moscow and Washington. Following an October conversation between Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump, the United States temporarily eased restrictions on Russian diesel fuel shipments, and the first tankers have already set off across the ocean. The Russian press sees this not as the start of full normalisation, but as proof that the US president is willing to set aside the logic of sanctions when it gets in the way of lowering fuel prices at home. Vedomosti notes that the waiver is in effect until April 2027; on October 25, Kommersant reported that Trump had praised the deal and that Moscow was ready to supply “any volume” of diesel. (vedomosti.ru)
Commercial gain is not the only thing that matters to Russia’s response. Fyodor Lukyanov, chairman of the Presidium of the Council on Foreign and Defense Policy, wrote in a commentary for the Russian International Affairs Council that the pause in sanctions pressure could signal a new approach: for the first time, a decision on Russia had been made not because of the Ukraine agenda, but in response to US interests of its own. This is a telling formulation of the view in Moscow: the United States is not becoming Russia’s ally, but is beginning to acknowledge that its domestic economy and global energy markets do not always allow it to follow the old playbook of isolation. (russiancouncil.ru)
There is, however, also considerable scepticism in the Russian debate. Energy expert Sergey Vakulenko argues in an analysis for Meduza that Russia’s export capacity is limited by conditions in its domestic fuel market and damage to its oil-refining infrastructure. In other words, the deal is politically significant, but economically it does not resolve structural problems. This reflects a characteristic Russian ambivalence: Trump is seen as a pragmatist who can be negotiated with, but not as someone whose consistency can be relied upon. (meduza.io)
In Turkey, the same American pragmatism is viewed through a different lens: defence. Attention is focused on whether Ankara can turn the personal relationship between Recep Tayyip Erdoğan and Trump into a return to the F-35 fighter programme, the lifting of CAATSA sanctions, and access to engines for its homegrown KAAN aircraft. Turkey’s T24 directly links the prospects for these issues to the US midterm elections on November 3: a possible Democratic gain in the House of Representatives could once again make Congress the main check on Trump’s promises. (t24.com.tr)
Turkey’s particular perspective is that it expects neither friendship nor automatic alliance from the United States. Its expectations are far more instrumental: if Washington wants to keep Turkey within the Western defence architecture, it must offer more than rhetoric—it must offer aircraft, technology and more equal terms. In July, US Permanent Representative to NATO Matthew Whitaker said he believed the sale of F-35s to Turkey would go ahead, while noting that Ankara’s Russian S-400s remained a legal obstacle. Anadolu Agency reported this as confirmation that a window for negotiations remained open, not as a final decision. (aa.com.tr)
At the same time, Turkish analysts see US policy toward Iran as a source of immediate regional risk. Associate Professor Necmettin Acar argues in an Anadolu Agency analysis that the durability of Trump’s approach depends not only on military and sanctions capabilities, but also on whether US elites can maintain consensus around confrontation with Iran and unconditional support for Israel. For Turkey, this is no abstract issue of American domestic politics: a new escalation with Iran would threaten trade routes, energy stability and security along its southern borders. (aa.com.tr)
The strongest and most emotional reaction to the United States is currently coming from South Africa. There, Washington is seen not merely as a difficult partner, but as a power trying to tie Pretoria’s access to the US market to changes in domestic policy—land reform, programmes to expand economic opportunities for the Black majority, and its treatment of Afrikaners. On October 21, President Cyril Ramaphosa warned the country to prepare for possible exclusion from AGOA, which gives African goods preferential access to the US market. In an article for IOL, he acknowledged that the consequences would be “devastating”, but urged South Africans not to see a possible blow as the end of the country’s economy. (iol.co.za)
What is striking about the South African debate is how quickly even a pragmatic discussion about jobs becomes an argument over post-apartheid identity. International affairs columnist J. Brooks Spector wrote in Daily Maverick that US visa restrictions on people associated with racial redistribution policies and land issues had given the bilateral conflict “an entirely new texture”: the pressure now concerns not only trade, but also the legitimacy of South Africa’s constitutional order. (dailymaverick.co.za)
Analyst Donovan Williams put it even more sharply in Mail & Guardian: in his view, the United States has effectively launched a “diplomatic war” against South Africa, based on “fabrications and outright lies”. The wording is deliberately polemical, but it reflects a widespread feeling in Pretoria: Washington is using talk of minority rights not as a neutral human-rights position, but as leverage to change South Africa’s foreign policy—including its independent stance on Palestine, Israel and the Global South. (mg.co.za)
This is where the common thread running through the reactions of all three countries becomes clear. Russia, Turkey and South Africa have different attitudes toward the United States, but all are watching the same transformation: US policy increasingly looks less like the management of alliances through stable rules and more like a personalised dealmaking process, in which domestic needs determine the price of foreign-policy concessions. For Moscow, this is a chance to sell fuel and ease the pressure of sanctions. For Ankara, it is an opportunity to secure military and technological arrangements that have been blocked for years. For Pretoria, it is a risk that trade privileges will be turned into punishment for refusing to revise its own history and social model.
The most unexpected local conclusion is being drawn not in Moscow or Ankara, but in South Africa: there, “America First” is increasingly compared with a mirror image of what Washington condemns elsewhere—a state policy of favouring and protecting “its own” producers and politically convenient groups. The point is made bluntly in an IOL column: MAGA is “BEE in reverse”—an American version of economic preference set against South Africa’s Black Economic Empowerment programme. This comparison shows why the dispute has long since ceased to be about visas, tariffs or diplomatic tone: for Pretoria, it has become a dispute over the country’s right to decide for itself how to address the legacy of apartheid. (iol.co.za)
