Lindsey Graham, an American who believed Freedom had to be defended
To describe him merely as one of the men closest to Donald Trump is to focus solely on the final years of his career and ignore almost everything else. Graham was, above all, an internationalist Republican, a supporter of NATO, Ukraine and Israel, convinced that an American withdrawal from the world would not bring peace, but would merely leave more room for autocracies.
When a prominent political figure dies, especially one who has been part of American history for more than thirty years, there is always a temptation to reduce them to a simple label. In Lindsey Graham’s case, the label is already in place: ‘Trump loyalist’, ‘Republican hawk’, perhaps even ‘ultra-Trumpian’. These are not entirely fabricated descriptions, because in recent years Graham has indeed been one of Donald Trump’s most recognisable allies. But they are descriptions that explain only part of his story. And probably not even the most important part.
Before becoming an ally of Trump, Lindsey Graham was a man who had grown up within a very specific political tradition: that of American internationalist Republicanism. A tradition that believed in alliances, military deterrence, NATO and the United States’ responsibility to defend the international order. It was the tradition of Ronald Reagan, and later of John McCain, his close friend and political mentor. A right-wing movement that did not view America as a nation that should shut itself away within its own borders, but as the indispensable power needed to prevent the world from being left in the hands of authoritarian regimes.
Graham died aged 71, shortly after returning from a visit to Ukraine. In the final days of his life, he was still working on new sanctions against Russia and on strengthening Ukraine’s defences. It is hard not to see a kind of final consistency in this. Right up to the end, he remained committed to the issues that had characterised much of his career: American security, relations with allies, and the need to counter autocracies before they became even stronger.
He was no pacifist, of course. On the contrary, he was almost the opposite. He was one of the best-known ‘hawks’ in Congress, in favour of a very decisive use of American force and often also of military interventions that are now judged, in some cases quite rightly, more harshly. He supported the war in Iraq, maintained an extremely hardline stance on Iran for years and never made any secret of the fact that he regarded US military superiority as an essential component of foreign policy. His legacy is not without its flaws, and it would make no sense to portray him, at the very moment of his death, as a figure without contradictions.
But that is not the point. Graham did not regard military strength as a value in itself. He saw it as a necessary tool for protecting a system of alliances and a world order which, however imperfect, had guaranteed the West decades of security and freedom. His conviction was very simple: when America withdraws, the vacuum is not filled by a spontaneous peace. It is filled by Russia, China, Iran, terrorist groups and regional powers that share neither our values nor our interest in stability.
It is a belief that may seem almost old-fashioned today. In the United States, a growing section of the Republican right views international commitments with suspicion, whilst a section of the left often regards American power solely as a source of instability. Graham, on the other hand, belonged to a generation that saw US leadership not merely as a privilege, but as a duty.
He did not believe that America was perfect. However, he did believe that a world led – or at least held together – by the United States was preferable to a world in which the rules were set by Vladimir Putin, Xi Jinping or the Ayatollahs’ regime. This may seem like an obvious distinction, but today it is by no means so.
NATO as a political community
For Lindsey Graham, NATO was not merely a military alliance formed during the Cold War. It was the cornerstone of the political West, proof that the United States and Europe were not two separate entities, but parts of the same security community.
Like almost all American Republicans, he criticised the European allies when they spent too little on defence. He was unwilling to accept that the United States should bear a disproportionate share of the costs of Western security on its own. But this criticism did not lead him to conclude that NATO was useless. On the contrary: he called on the Europeans to do more precisely because he considered the Alliance indispensable.
This distinction is important. There are those who criticise NATO because they wish to weaken or replace it, and there are those who criticise it because they wish to make it more credible. Graham clearly belonged to the latter category. Even in recent years, he continued to engage with allied governments and to advocate for a NATO that was politically united and militarily capable of defending itself.
Europe tends to forget just how much the post-1945 order depends on the American presence. For decades we have taken US protection for granted, as if it were a natural and permanent state of affairs. Graham often pointed out, sometimes quite bluntly, that such protection exists only if there is real military strength behind the political guarantees.
NATO, in its view, was not intended to prepare for war, but to prevent it. The principle was that of deterrence: making the cost of aggression so high as to convince the enemy not to launch an attack. It is the same idea that enabled Western Europe to live in peace during the Cold War and which today protects the Baltic states and Poland from Russian pressure.
Ukraine and the right not to surrender
Support for Ukraine was perhaps the area in which Graham’s internationalism was most clearly evident. Following the Russian invasion in 2022, he visited the country on several occasions, met Volodymyr Zelensky and also worked with Democratic senators to maintain US support for Kyiv.
His message was often harsh, at times even excessive in tone, but the substance remained the same: Ukraine had the right to resist, and it was in the United States’ interests to help it.
For Graham, helping Ukraine was not a matter of charity. It meant preventing a nuclear power from using force to redraw Europe’s borders, annexing the territory of a sovereign state and wiping out its independence. If Russia had succeeded in achieving what it wanted through aggression, the message would have resonated far beyond Eastern Europe.
It would have reached Beijing, as far as Taiwan is concerned. It would have reached Tehran, as far as Israel and the Gulf States are concerned. It would have reached any government convinced that the West no longer has the patience or the courage to defend its allies.
Graham had also realised that American support could not consist solely of declarations of solidarity. Weapons, air defences, ammunition, intelligence and economic sanctions against Moscow were needed. Even on the eve of his death, he was trying to push through a cross-party package of new sanctions against Russia and against those countries that continued to support its energy sector.
His comments on Ukraine were not always diplomatic. In 2023, Russia even issued an arrest warrant against him, which Graham treated as a sort of badge of honour. This reaction spoke volumes about his character: provocative, combative, and often unconcerned with diplomatic niceties. But it also highlighted the clarity of his stance. He did not seek an artificial neutrality between aggressor and victim.
At a time when even in the United States there was growing weariness regarding Ukraine, Graham continued to argue that a peace based on Kyiv’s surrender would not be a true peace. It would merely be a respite, allowing Russia to prepare for a new attack.
Israel was not, for him, an ally like the others
The same clarity characterised his relationship with Israel. Graham was one of the Jewish state’s most steadfast supporters in the US Congress. His support did not depend on who happened to be the Israeli Prime Minister at the time, nor was it driven solely by electoral or religious considerations. It was part of his overall worldview.
For Graham, Israel was a democracy and an ally of the United States in a region dominated by instability, terrorism and authoritarian regimes. It was a country that had to be able to defend its people against Hamas, Hezbollah and Iran, without being forced to accept as normal the presence of organisations that openly declared their intention to destroy it.
After 7 October, his support for Israel was unwavering. He did not shy away from using strong language and taking a stance that many of his opponents considered too harsh with regard to the war in Gaza.
But Graham started from a principle that is all too easily overlooked today: Israel was not the source of the aggression suffered on 7 October. It was the country under attack. Hamas was not a normal political counterpart with whom it would have been sufficient simply to sit down at the negotiating table, but a terrorist organisation that had carried out a massacre and continued to use hostages and the civilian population as instruments of war.
For him, supporting Israel also meant countering Iran. Graham correctly saw the Iranian regime as the hub of a regional network comprising militias and armed groups used to attack Israel and Western interests without always directly involving Tehran. In recent years, he also sought to promote normalisation between Israel and Saudi Arabia, which he regarded as a potential strategic transformation of the Middle East. Shortly before his death, he was still working towards this goal.
The fact that his death was mourned in Kyiv and Jerusalem, whilst it was celebrated by representatives of the Iranian regime, is not a minor detail. It makes it very clear which side Graham had chosen to be on.
The relationship with Trump: without oversimplifying things
Then, of course, there’s Donald Trump. He’s the hardest part to ignore, and also the one that makes Lindsey Graham’s position the most contradictory.
During the 2016 Republican primaries, Graham was one of Trump’s harshest critics. He considered him unfit for the presidency and a threat to the Republican Party. He subsequently made a radical U-turn, becoming one of the president’s closest allies and one of his most prominent defenders on television and in the Senate.
This change was enormous. It cannot be explained solely by personal friendship, nor can it be presented as a normal political evolution. Graham chose to fall in line with a Republican Party that Trump had by then taken over. At times, he seemed willing to condone behaviour that, just a few years earlier, he would have condemned without hesitation.
It is fair to criticise him for this. It is fair to think that he has compromised too much, that he has relinquished some of his independence, and that he has contributed to the normalisation of aspects of Trumpism that are a far cry from the institutional conservatism he had previously represented.
But to describe him simply as “ultra-Trumpian” is an oversimplification, because it suggests that his entire political identity stems from Trump. In fact, the opposite is almost true. Graham had already spent decades in Congress by the time Trump entered politics. He was already an Air Force colonel, a national security expert, an ally of John McCain and one of the most staunch advocates of American interventionism.
His Atlanticism did not begin with Trump. His support for Israel did not begin with Trump. His hostility towards Russia and Iran did not begin with Trump. These were positions he had adopted long before and which, in some cases, were at odds with the very instincts of the MAGA movement itself.
A significant section of the Trumpian right is, in fact, isolationist. It regards aid to Ukraine as a waste, views NATO with distaste, and believes that the United States should drastically reduce its involvement in international crises. Graham has never really shared this view.
Rather than becoming ideologically pro-Trump, he sought to use his personal closeness to Trump to influence his foreign policy. In some cases, he succeeded. He was one of the politicians who sought to keep the US administration committed to Israel, taking a tougher line on Iran, less willing to abandon Ukraine entirely, and still mindful of the importance of alliances.
This does not negate the political cost of his decision. But it does help to understand it. Graham did not align himself with Trump because he had suddenly stopped believing in American leadership. He aligned himself with Trump partly because he realised that, without access to the president and the new centre of Republican power, he would have had no chance of defending that leadership.
Perhaps it was too cynical a gamble. Perhaps he thought he could control a political phenomenon far greater than himself. Perhaps, as is often the case in Washington, the desire to maintain influence ended up turning into dependence. But his role within Trumpism was often that of an internationalist adviser, not that of an isolationist ideologue.
An American story
Graham’s personal life also helps to shed light on his character. He was born into a modest family in South Carolina and grew up in an environment a world away from the Washington elite. His parents ran a pub with a billiards room. He lost both of them when he was still very young and took care of his younger sister, becoming her guardian. He was the first in his family to attend university; he studied law and served for decades in the US Air Force.
His life story was not that of a political aristocrat. It was a very American story, one of early bereavements, family responsibilities, military service and political rise. This does not automatically make his decisions any better, but it perhaps explains why he spoke of the United States with a conviction that at times seemed almost naïve.
Graham truly believed in American exceptionalism. Not in the sense that the United States was always right, but in the sense that it had a responsibility distinct from that of other nations. For him, America was the country capable of reconciling strength and freedom, national interest and the defence of its allies.
It was a very ambitious idea, and probably full of contradictions too. The United States has made mistakes, supported questionable governments and waged wars that have had dramatic consequences. Graham himself supported some of those decisions. However, the response to those mistakes cannot be to pretend that America’s absence automatically makes the world a fairer place.
We have seen what happens when the United States withdraws without a strategy. A more peaceful, multilateral order does not emerge. Often, the Taliban, Russia, Iran or China gain ground. The people who had believed in the West’s promises are left to fend for themselves, whilst in Europe people congratulate themselves on having avoided getting involved.
Graham rejected this illusion. He believed that freedom was not a natural state of history and that simply declaring oneself to be on the right side was not enough to protect it. Alliances, weapons, resources and, at certain times, a willingness to take risks were needed.
One of the last Republican internationalists
With the death of Lindsey Graham, one of the last great representatives of a Republican faction that is waning has also passed away. The faction of Reagan and McCain, of ‘peace through strength’, of NATO and of the idea that America must lead the free world.
He was not a moderate in the European sense of the word. He was a conservative, a hawk and a politician prepared to take on a challenge. But he was not a nationalist confined within American borders. He viewed Warsaw, Kyiv, Jerusalem and Taipei as part of the same struggle between democracies and autocracies.
This was perhaps the most interesting aspect of his character. At a time when politics is portrayed almost exclusively in terms of personal allegiances — for or against Trump, for or against Netanyahu — Graham continued to maintain a broader geopolitical vision . A vision that was debatable in some respects, but recognisable and consistent.
He believed that NATO was essential. He believed that Russia had to be stopped in Ukraine. He believed that Israel had the right to defend itself. He believed that Iran must not be allowed to gain hegemony over the Middle East. And he believed that the United States could not relinquish its strength without also jeopardising its freedom.
He was not merely one of Trump’s men, although he had been very close to him in recent years. He was a politician who had made his name before Trump, with views on foreign policy that Trump did not always share, and which Graham sought, right up to the end, to keep alive within the new Republican Party.
The criticism will remain, and it must remain. His support for controversial wars, certain exaggerated remarks, his excessive closeness to Trump and the many contradictions of recent years are all part of his history. But an honest assessment cannot stop there.
Above all, Lindsey Graham was a man who was convinced that the freedom of peoples could not be defended by words alone. He believed that democracies had a duty to help one another and that America, precisely because of its strength, bore a special responsibility.
Today, this idea is less popular.Perhaps that is precisely why its disappearance is all the more significant. For whilst the temptation to look the other way grows, Lindsey Graham continued to remind us that the world does not become a freer place when America decides to turn a blind eye to it.









