There is a particular kind of stench that emanates from the Foggy Bottom corridors when the United States decides it is time to perform a geopolitical 'pump and dump' on its latest set of tactical accessories. Today’s odor is particularly pungent, as US Envoy Tom Barrack informs the world that the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF)—those plucky, photogenic warriors we spent a decade calling our 'greatest allies'—have officially reached their shelf life. According to the oracle of American interests, their role has 'largely expired.' It is the kind of statement only a high-level bureaucrat or a sociopathic middle manager could deliver with a straight face: treating an entire paramilitary organization and the people they represent like a carton of milk that has spent one too many days in the back of the planetary refrigerator.

The logic, if we dare to call it that, is as transparent as it is revolting. Having used the SDF to do the heavy lifting of dismantling the ISIL caliphate—saving American boots from the inconvenience of actually touching the ground they claim to be stabilizing—the United States has decided it is time for a brand refresh. The new management? The Syrian government. Yes, the very same regime that the West has spent the better part of fifteen years painting as the ultimate avatar of Middle Eastern villainy is now being handed the baton. It turns out that when the bill for 'democracy building' gets too high, the 'anti-ISIS' franchise is easily transferable back to the local autocrat. It is a stunning display of strategic nihilism that manages to insult the intelligence of everyone involved, from the diplomats in DC to the fighters in Rojava who are currently wondering why their 'partnership' feels so much like a funeral arrangement.

The Right, of course, will celebrate this as 'realism'—a word they use to mask their utter boredom with anything that doesn’t involve immediate profit or domestic grandstanding. They love the idea of 'America First' right up until the point where they realize that leaving a power vacuum involves the messy reality of seeing their former enemies take over the lease. Meanwhile, the Left will engage in their customary ritual of performative hand-wringing. They will tweet hashtags about 'Betraying the Kurds' while sipping artisanal lattes, carefully ignoring the fact that their own preferred administrations were the ones who turned these people into a disposable proxy force in the first place. Both sides of the American political coin are minted from the same base metal of indifference; the only difference is the flavor of the sanctimony they use to justify the abandonment.

Let’s analyze the sheer, unadulterated gall of saying a role has 'expired.' In the sterile language of international relations, this is a 'strategic pivot.' In reality, it is a confession of systemic incompetence. We are told the Syrian government is now the preferred anti-ISIL force, a pivot that effectively renders the last decade of 'regime change' rhetoric a colossal, blood-soaked waste of time. If the goal was always to have Damascus handle the security of the region, why did we bother with the intervening years of proxy warfare and rhetorical posturing? The answer is simple: because the US foreign policy apparatus functions on the attention span of a fruit fly and the moral compass of a debt collector. We didn't 'succeed' in Syria; we just got tired of the optics.

The SDF, for their part, are learning the hardest lesson of the twenty-first century: never trust a superpower that views 'freedom' as a seasonal product line. They were the perfect 'non-journalist' darlings—brave, secular, and useful for a few thousand news cycles. But now, the spreadsheet has spoken. Tom Barrack’s announcement is the sound of a corporate merger where the minority stakeholders are being liquidated without a severance package. The US envoy’s cold appraisal of the situation suggests that human lives are merely variables in a much larger, much stupider game of Risk. We have decided that the Syrian government—a group we previously sanctioned into the stone age—is now 'stable' enough to handle the leftovers of our failed crusades.

Ultimately, this is the inevitable end-state of all American interventionism. We arrive with a fanfare of 'values,' we find a group of locals desperate enough to believe us, we use them until the political capital runs dry, and then we check our watches and realize we have a dinner engagement elsewhere. The 'expiration' of the SDF isn't a military reality; it's a symptom of a decaying empire that no longer has the energy to pretend it cares about the consequences of its own meddling. As the Syrian government moves back into the driver’s seat, Washington will wash its hands in the basin of 'pragmatism,' leaving behind a trail of broken promises and a region that is no more stable than when we first decided to 'help.' It is a farce of the highest order, and the only thing more tragic than the betrayal itself is the fact that we all saw it coming.