Barrack forecasts a new Middle East: No more 'lines in the sand'
It began, as these things often do, outside the gates of empire; a boastful proclamation cloaked in diplomatic politesse. Just before US President Donald Trump met with Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, Tom Barrack offered what seemed a passing remark.
Barrack, now Trump's ambassador to Turkey spoke in a tone that smacks less of diplomacy than of colonial oversight: “There is no Middle East. We know that. There's tribes. There's villages. The nation state was created by the British and the French in 1916. Sykes [and] Picot said, okay, we're gonna take what was the Ottoman Empire, and we're gonna draw straight lines around it, and we're gonna call these nation states.”
A casual listener might hear a wistful historical note. But viewed in concert with Barrack’s other televised utterances, a bolder image emerges, that of an architect of a worldview, cold and calculated.
It matters little whether we label the region “the Middle East,” “Southwest Asia and North Africa,” or even “Israel's backyard.” And why not, when the Zionist entity is, so far, the most lucrative ally to invest in and with, eclipsing even the Gulf states whose cash infusions Trump flaunts as trophies for the American economy.
For Trump and his cohort, Israel is not just an ally, but the crown jewel—a reliable executor of American will. The Gulf states, for all their extravagance, are but open purses funding America’s revival.
The merchant-son of Zahle
Zahle, the hillside Lebanese town exalted by poet Ahmed Shawqi as the cedar’s bride, a national pearl, birthed Barrack’s lineage. Yet a century of transatlantic assimilation between New York and California distilled in Tom not nostalgia, but calculation.
He emerged as Trump’s fixer and financier, a consigliere whose name rarely appeared in headlines, but whose signature echoed through Manhattan real estate deals and political fundraising circuits. Barrack's Super PAC “Rebuilding America Now” laid the financial scaffolding for Trump's 2016 ascent. He was later bestowed the chairmanship of Trump's inaugural committee, ahead of the swearing-in ceremony in January 2017.
And then, like many architects of state, he vanished behind the curtain. But not for long.
From silent strategist to satrap
The Democratic Party, having regained power in 2020 under Joe Biden, turned its gaze towards those who had once whispered in Trump’s ear. Barrack, with his Middle Eastern ties, was charged with serving foreign interests; an unregistered agent of the Emirates, they alleged. The accusations zeroed in on his alleged efforts to shield the UAE from involvement in the Gulf rift, and steer Washington away from regional entanglements. He was also accused of misleading federal investigators.
But the jury absolved him.
Emboldened, Trump plucked Barrack from the shadows, appointing him US ambassador to Turkey in 2024. Yet the title was ceremonial. The real mission was sub rosa: serveing as the administration's unofficial emissary to Syria and Lebanon and beyond. He became Trump’s envoy to both countries, while maintaining active channels with his old friends in the Gulf.
This background is key to understanding Barrack’s role in Trump’s mind and, by extension, in the machinery of US foreign policy. Never mind his scant diplomatic experience or the shallowness of his general knowledge, evident long before his political debut.
The president, who famously confused Albania with Armenia, sees him as a trusted oracle, a guide to decipher the so-called complexities of the region.
In turn, Barrack repeatedly refers to Trump as ‘my boss,’ a term he uses with visible fealty rather than the cold deference of protocol. He is fond of boasting that under Trump's hand, history will turn in a mere four years what others failed to shift in fourscore.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJNCq4uIfyo&embeds_referring_euri=https%3A%2F%2Fmanassa.news%2FMapping a new dominion
To fully grasp the moment, one must read Barrack’s statements as a whole, to recognize that we are living through a volatile juncture. One whose sensitivity mirrors that of 1945–1948, when Palestine was carved up, Israel was erected, and American recognition swiftly followed.
Why speak of Sykes-Picot now?
More than a century has passed since that secret Anglo-French pact carved up Ottoman lands. Sketched from afar, the borders it birthed created what we have come to recognize as Syria, Iraq, and Palestine. For Arab nationalists, they were shackles. For Zionists, they were opportunity. Chief among the fruits of that era, undeniably, is the Balfour Declaration, issued on November 2, 1917.
He speaks of Zahle as his DNA. But from this claimed familiarity flows only contempt
Barrack’s apparent rejection of colonial boundaries might seem like anti-imperialism. It is not. He merely seeks to redraw the map with fresh ink, to suit another empire’s commercial and political vision. As he told Ricardo Karam, the issue wasn’t the theft—it was the greed.
The colonizer’s lament
Barrack is quick to invoke his Lebanese heritage, as though his ancestral roots grant him a native’s authority. He speaks of Zahle as his DNA. But from this claimed familiarity flows only contempt. In one breath, he romanticizes tribal loyalties and local religions; in the next, he derides Lebanese journalists for lacking civility, compassion, and tolerance. An indictment delivered not with diplomacy, but with the brusque certainty of someone who believes he knows better than the people themselves.
Asked by Karam whether the US was open to redrawing the region, Barrack offered no answers—only parables.
“People care first about themselves, their families, their tribes, their religion,” he mused. “Borders were drawn around tribes. So why fight over five or three kilometers? We need a new way of seeing each other… and of seeing life. Can integration happen without war? We need to take small steps first to be rid of these issues.”
Place that studied ambiguity beside his remark to Hadley Gamble on the Palestinian question. “Why doesn’t anyone want to take the Palestinians?” he asked, as though pondering a bureaucratic burden. “It’s a real puzzle. In my humble view, it’s not about land or borders, it’s about identity.” In Barrack’s framing, Palestinian national claims are not only negotiable but nearly absurd—reduced to an inconvenience no one wishes to inherit.
Barrack, ever the legal tactician, avoids stating the endgame. But the implication is clear: national rights are indulgences, sacred land a romantic delusion, all of it subject to erasure.
ِA future redrawn
This commodified view of politics, where everything is reduced to transactions, is not simply cynical. It is the distilled essence of a modern fascism, one that sneers at nations rooted in language, memory, and culture, and mocks those who fight to define their future. To the Trump administration, now fantasizing about a “Gaza Riviera,” such ideals are as obsolete as Sykes-Picot.
“Define your goal,” Barrack tells Karam. “Forget the dates, treaties, borders, the red, green, and blue lines. Go after it… and we’ll help you.”
Washington, he admits, has failed to change regimes. So now, it supports guerrilla pragmatism. “Pursue your objective… and we’ll help you get there.”
And from that logic flow all manner of nightmares: displacement, annexation, partition, or the quiet erasure of sovereign states—all dressed up in the language of prosperity, partnership, and forgetfulness.
But if borders no longer govern the region, what does?
Barrack offers one answer: power.
Speaking to Hadley Gamble, he oscillates between admiration and subservience when discussing Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. “After October 7, everything changed,” he says. “Bibi doesn’t care about red, green, or blue lines. If he feels his borders or people are threatened, he’ll go anywhere, do anything. Full stop.”
His fervor sharpens when he speaks of neutralizing the “heads of the Iranian snake,” a strategic necessity for American interests. But, he adds, “Washington won’t do it. Israel will keep hitting Hezbollah, the Houthis, Hamas… and then deal with Tehran.”
On Turkey, his tone is similarly deferential. He praises Erdoğan’s government for earning “respect and recognition,” crediting them for reshaping Syria. “Without them, we wouldn’t be seeing the new Syria,” he says, lauding Ankara’s repeated cooperation.
In the same interview, he refers to Syria's current de facto leader Ahmed Al-Sharaa and his circle as “a guerrilla team now enjoying US support.” Why? “Because they don’t have a history of disappointment,” Barrack explains. “They set goals… and work toward them gradually.”
The ghost of partitions past
There is no way to confront such naked fascism and cold-blooded cruelty without pain. But the Arab future cannot afford to relive its past tragedies.
Back in 1947, on the eve of Palestine’s partition, American policymakers understood they were poised to inherit Britain’s imperial role. Still, they hesitated to grant Zionists full support, wary of Soviet advances in the Arab world and possible oil disruptions.
President Harry Truman was deeply skeptical of the plan to establish Israel. In June 1947, he urged Americans and US institutions to avoid any action that could inflame tensions among Palestine’s residents and migrants, destabilize public order, or incite violence.
In fact, the US supported limits on Jewish immigration at the time. It even recommended that Jaffa be placed within the Arab state in the proposed partition plan. Official US discourse stressed equal opportunity between Arabs and Jews and the need to ensure all regions had access to basic services.
But once Israel demonstrated that it could serve US interests, and could defeat fragmented Arab forces during the 1948 war, the equation shifted. That military prowess became a tool of persuasion. Truman set aside his earlier reservations about Zionist overreach—once describing Jews as “selfish” and overly dominant in global affairs—and emerged as Israel’s chief supporter, paving the way for its UN membership and early financial and trade agreements with Washington in 1949–50.(*)
History, as ever, loops back upon itself.
This is the unspoken truth behind Barrack’s declarations and Trump’s doctrine: those who cannot defend themselves or reach their goals will not receive support. There are no guarantees. No promises. No commitments. Just as it was with Israel’s operation against Qatar.
Barrack heralds a moment of transition—one in which Bibi, by virtue of power, gets to rewrite the rules. It is a warning to the confused, the nostalgic, and the hopeful — those still clinging to the illusion of American protection or to old rules of engagement. And to those who still believe justice alone can secure their rights: take heed.
Here, the message is plain: Washington’s model of regime change has collapsed. In its place, it now throws its weight behind adaptable insurgencies. Have a goal and the will to pursue it? “We’ll help you get there.”
(*) For an extended analysis of the shift in US policy towards Israel during the Truman administration, see Secret Channels: The Inside Story of Arab-Israeli Peace Negotiations, Mohamed Hassanein Heikal, 1996. See also Episode 18 of his TV program ‘With Heikal,’ first broadcast in 2005.