They say politicians will always disappoint you. But they’re far more likely to do so when the version of the politician you support is more fantasy than fact—when your faith is not in the individual, but in a version of them you've crafted in your head. That’s the cautionary tale Tulsi Gabbard and Tucker Carlson now embody, as their attempts to shape U.S. foreign policy through the lens of wishful thinking have run aground on the rocky shores of geopolitical reality—and Trump’s impatience with dissent.
For a time, both Gabbard and Carlson were stars in the populist wing of American conservatism. They capitalized on the public’s exhaustion with foreign wars and the often-bloated rhetoric of the U.S. national security establishment. They presented themselves as truth-tellers, as challengers to the orthodoxy that endless intervention abroad was necessary to maintain security at home. That message resonated—until it collided with Iran’s nuclear ambitions, Israel’s intelligence, and Donald Trump’s hard-line instincts.
Gabbard and the Intelligence Island
Gabbard, now Director of National Intelligence under Trump, has staked much of her foreign policy credibility on the claim that Iran is not pursuing a nuclear weapon. That position is not without precedent—some assessments, including parts of the U.S. intelligence community’s findings, have downplayed the immediacy of the Iranian threat. But timing is everything, and Gabbard’s insistence on a non-threatening Iran came just days before Israel launched a sweeping, multi-pronged military campaign to dismantle Iran’s nuclear infrastructure.
According to Israeli intelligence—and the public remarks of Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth—Iran had made serious advances toward weaponization. The International Atomic Energy Agency, long reluctant to take a firm stand, finally admitted Iran was in violation of its nuclear obligations. That’s not a minor disagreement. It’s a foundational contradiction between Gabbard’s position and the mounting evidence that Iran was, at minimum, preparing for a breakout.
Trump, never one to hide his frustration, made his displeasure clear: “I don’t care what she said,” he barked when asked about Gabbard’s assessment. “I think they were very close to having them.” In that moment, it became clear Gabbard was politically isolated—and not just from Trump, but from the military, the international community, and reality itself.
Carlson’s Doomsday That Didn’t Come
If Gabbard erred in underestimating Iran’s intentions, Tucker Carlson went all-in on predicting the consequences of opposing them. He warned of a catastrophic Israeli strike, forecasting that thousands of Americans would die within a week, and that China and Russia would rise to defend Iran in a global war that the West would lose.
That was over five days ago. What’s actually happened? Israel has disabled Iran’s air defenses, decimated key elements of its ballistic missile program, and crippled its nuclear sites. The feared global alliance has not materialized. There’s been no mass uprising in the Muslim world, no third-party intervention, no “World War III.” While the situation remains tense—and far from resolved—the immediate apocalypse Carlson forecast has not come to pass.
Trump noticed. And he responded with the kind of dismissive venom reserved for those he considers disloyal or irrelevant: “Somebody please explain to kooky Tucker Carlson that IRAN CAN NEVER HAVE A NUCLEAR WEAPON,” he wrote on social media. He later jabbed at Carlson’s influence, saying, “Let him go get a television network and say it so that people listen.”
When the Projection Breaks
The story here isn’t just that Trump turned on his allies—he does that frequently and with little ceremony. The story is that Gabbard and Carlson, both media-savvy and politically seasoned, didn’t seem to anticipate it. They fell into the trap of projecting their own ideological preferences onto Trump, believing he was fundamentally anti-interventionist, averse to conflict, or beholden to their strategic vision. They forgot—or ignored—that Trump is often transactional, ego-driven, and not particularly loyal to abstractions like "non-interventionism" when they conflict with dominance or strength.
Trump has always liked the idea of avoiding war. But he also enjoys exercising American power. He likes being unpredictable. And he values the appearance of strength above most things. Gabbard and Carlson ignored that part of the equation because it didn’t fit their narrative.
The Bigger Problem
This is not just a story about a few disillusioned political figures. It’s a broader cautionary tale about building political identities around imagined versions of leaders—or worse, around narratives that require reality to conform to ideology.
In the post-Trump conservative movement, there’s been a dangerous tendency to downplay or even deny threats from hostile regimes abroad. The idea is that America should retreat, refocus inward, and let the rest of the world sort itself out. That sounds appealing—until the world pushes back. Until Iran enriches uranium well beyond peaceful levels. Until Russia invades a neighbor. Until China threatens Taiwan.
Reality doesn’t care about your Twitter threads. It doesn’t pause to allow your ideology to catch up. And it certainly doesn’t stop because you were sure your guy would never go to war.
Conclusion: The Bus Always Comes
Tulsi Gabbard and Tucker Carlson may yet find their way back into Trump’s good graces. Stranger things have happened. But their fall from favor is a reminder of how perilous it is to mistake rhetoric for principle, or strategy for friendship. They thought they understood Trump. They thought the world would behave in accordance with their principles. Neither turned out to be true.