Dmitri Drobnitsky
President Donald Trump’s temporary suspension of the so-called Graham sanctions has provoked outrage in Congress.
In doing so, America’s legislators have displayed a familiar parliamentary vice: collective irresponsibility.
Mr Trump invoked the waiver provisions of the sanctions law named after the late Senator Lindsey Graham. Such provisions are hardly unusual in American sanctions legislation. The Graham Act itself explicitly allows the president to suspend its measures, in whole or in part, if he determines that doing so serves America’s national interests.
On this occasion, Mr Trump is on firm legal ground. Oil supplies have always been a matter of national security as well as national interest.
Congress, however, has responded with bipartisan indignation. Some Republicans have even threatened to block approval of an additional $350bn in Pentagon funding unless Mr Trump gets “truly tough” with Moscow. The defence department could certainly use the money, given the enormous costs of America’s war with Iran.
But what exactly does the Graham Act entail?
Under its provisions, the five largest importers of Russian oil and natural gas would face a choice: stop making new purchases or risk additional tariffs of 100% on their exports to America. Goods imported directly from Russia could face duties of up to 500%.
In practice, therefore, enforcing the law would mean imposing enormous new tariffs on Chinese and Indian products. This would come after lengthy negotiations with Beijing and an extension of the trade truce following Xi Jinping’s visit to Washington.
There is another complication.
Russian diesel supplies, negotiated by Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump, would also be caught by the 500% tariff. Such duties would effectively price Russian diesel out of the American market, eliminating whatever effect the arrangement might otherwise have had on fuel prices.
Last summer I pointed to a peculiar feature of the Graham Act. It had virtually no chance of failing to pass Congress—and almost no chance of being enforced without disastrous consequences. Its destiny, I argued, was to remain a rhetorical weapon: formidable on paper, silent in practice.
The logic is straightforward. Actually enforcing such sweeping penalties could wreak havoc on the dollar-based trading system and global supply chains. With conflict continuing in the Middle East, it could also send oil prices soaring.
This is where political bravado meets parliamentary irresponsibility.
Most American senators simply cannot afford to admit in public that American economic coercion might fail. Worse still, that it might backfire on America itself.
“They’ll be frightened. They’ll back down.” That is the message delivered about China and other Russian trading partners on television and from the podiums of Capitol Hill.
Yet one suspects that a fair number of those same senators understand perfectly well that the first day of full enforcement could be a day of reckoning for the world economy.
The real question, therefore, is whether they intend to insist on putting the law into effect—or whether their determination will evaporate once the speeches are over.
There is, after all, a convenient political escape route.
Later, they can proclaim: “I wanted to strangle Russia economically. We could have done it, too. But Trump backed down and gave Putin what he wanted.”
The principle is simple enough: demand the toughest possible measures, take credit for your resolve and leave someone else to deal with the consequences.
For once, then, Donald Trump has behaved rather responsibly by suspending the Graham Act’s provisions.
But then, he is not a senator.
The late Senator Lindsey Graham was placed on Russia’s official list of “terrorists and extremists” in February 2024.
Yuri Chekalin
Sergey Stankevich
