The fashion industry is still on the road to recovery and looking for its next big opportunity in the luxury sector. The Chinese market, which fuelled much of the sector’s pre-pandemic growth, remains sluggish, while the Gulf region is still grappling with the effects of the war in Iran. All of which means that companies are searching for untapped markets and new demographics that will reassure shareholders and boost stock prices. Relying solely on the robust US market was never a sustainable, long-term option.
  
So far, industry chatter has mostly circled around India: an underpenetrated yet complex market that will require time and deep investments to yield returns. In the meantime, Turkey – which is better known for its hospitality, cosmetics industry and manufacturing (including making fake luxury goods) – has emerged as the most promising new frontier. The nation is now attracting high-end tourism, building a local base of high-end-fashion shoppers and, along the way, reshaping its image as a prominent shopping hub. Its luxury market, valued at $3.4bn (€3m) last year, is estimated to reach $4.5bn (€3.9m) by 2034. “In a globally subdued luxury environment, companies are keen to find growth frontiers. Turkey, which hasn’t been a priority in the past, is a large economy worth exploring,” says Luca Solca, the managing director and global head of luxury goods research at Bernstein.

Many factors are contributing to this shift, starting with current international geopolitical relations. Unlike its European neighbours, Turkey maintains direct flight connections to Russia and grants visa-free entry to Russian and Iranian visitors, attracting high-spending tourists who might have otherwise flocked to Western Europe or the UAE. “The country is now seen as a safe zone in a region of on-and-off turmoil, encouraging people to direct their spending here,” says Defne Kocabiyikoglu, who runs independent fashion label Nackiyé with her sister Basak. She also points to Turkey’s “high standards of service” and the new Istanbul airport, which overtook Heathrow this month as the best-connected airport in the world, with 337 destinations.

Florentia, a new retail outlet near the airport, is riding the wave. Once completed, it will offer more than 100,000 sq m of retail space, a luxury hotel, open-air entertainment and access to more than 200 international labels. Elsewhere, Turkish retailer Beymen has been raising the bar with new retail concepts, including a store in Tersane-i Âmire that was designed by OMA. “The scale of investment is perhaps the clearest indication of market growth,” says Demet Müftüoğlu Eşeli, curator and co-founder of editorial platform ’74Escape. “There are more international luxury names, larger flagships and increasingly ambitious department stores. We are moving beyond conventional retail and towards spaces that combine fashion with art, design, hospitality and culture.”

While tourist spending is one of the largest drivers of growth, residents have also demonstrated an increased appetite for luxury fashion. “Turkey has a large, highly connected consumer base,” says Müftüoğlu Eşeli. “Thanks to social media, global fashion brands have become part of the everyday cultural landscape. With that comes greater familiarity, aspiration and demand.”

European luxury houses will no doubt rush to meet this demand with more flagship openings and events. Last month, Cartier took a trip to Turkish island Büyükada, bringing together creatives from across the region to celebrate its new jewellery collections. The country also has the opportunity to elevate the “Made in Turkey” label, convince luxury groups to invest in its manufacturers and promote homegrown labels such as Nackiyé, which has already achieved global recognition and forged retail partnerships across Hong Kong, Japan and the US. The sector’s long-term vitality, however, will largely depend on continued political stability in a volatile region and whether the Turkish president, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, can resolve ongoing tensions with Israel and Greece.

Natalie Theodosi is Monocle’s fashion editor at large. For more opinion, analysis and insight subscribe to Monocle today.

The Strait of Hormuz crisis is prompting the UAE to reassess the partnerships on which its security and prosperity depend. Speaking to Monocle Radio at the Arab Media Summit in Dubai, Noura bint Mohammed Al Kaabi, the minister of state at the UAE’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, describes “a recalibration” that spans from Germany to the Pacific. As conflict continues across the region, she also leaves the door open to rebuilding trust with Iran, while insisting that the UAE will not forget what it has endured. 

Has the ongoing conflict with Iran prompted a reappraisal of your tactics?
The UAE’s foreign policy is always open to dialogue, discussion and calls for de-escalation. Yet there has been a recalibration of how we view our common strategic partnerships.

I arrived from Germany a few days ago, where the UAE’s president [Mohamed bin Zayed] had meetings with prominent CEOs and leaders. The UAE and Germany have a strategic relationship, with partnerships in defence, security, technology and business – and a commitment of more than €40bn.

This recalibration is a model that we’re working on. We’re looking at what we can do better in technology, education, sustainability and culture. Defence is key. The UAE is not just buying defence – it is also selling its defence. Edge Group (the UAE’s defence manufacturer) will have an office in France to sell UAE-made defence technology across Europe.

Do recent events raise questions about the US as a reliable partner?
The UAE is a partner with every nation that wants to build bridges. It’s a polarised world with many camps: a zero-sum game that we don’t want to be part of. We want to be part of a world that has partnerships and strategic alliances. 

The US has been and remains a very strategic ally and partner for the UAE in defence and security and, beyond that, in technology and investment.

I’ll focus on the formula. If the formula is prosperity – in projects, investment, technology, defence, culture or anything that will benefit the UAE through strengthening its partnerships – then that will be our priority.

You have also been visiting the Pacific islands. What takes UAE diplomacy so far from home?
We were in the region to attend the Pacific Forum in Palau. We went to Timor-Leste, Palau and then Fiji. I work with the Pacific islands portfolio. These islands are filled with dreams, ambitions and a sense of responsibility – [even if people often] see them as places to have a good time. It’s really important to look at the common values, initiatives and projects that our nations can work on together.

The Strait of Hormuz crisis and the recent attacks in the Middle East have not only affected us in the UAE but have also had an impact on the distant islands of the Pacific and the Caribbean, raising their prices. How can we work together on these issues?

Could Iran eventually become one of the UAE’s partners?
Iran is our neighbour. We have maintained trade relations and are home to a large community of Iranians. What happened is unfortunate and will require us to rebuild trust, which is not easy but it’s essential. You can’t just stop having dialogue with a country that’s less than 100km away. I believe that the leadership here is prioritising the long-term goal of a stable region.

We want to live in a world where there are no disputes, no militias right and left, no drones flying over your head. This country has been building its reputation and credibility for the past 50-plus years, not only for the Emiratis but also for the 200-plus nationalities found here.

How close are the UAE and Iran to rebuilding that trust?
The UAE is always open to de-escalation and partnership building. If we shut the door to dialogue with another nation, we would not be taking the steps in the right direction – especially when Iran is our neighbour.

But you can’t ignore what we went through. It’s something that we can never forget, that will be entrenched in the memory of all who lived in the UAE. The solidarity has been overwhelming – in a good way. We will continue to keep that window of dialogue open because if you want to build trust, you need to talk.

Will Gulf states have to get used to Iran controlling the Strait of Hormuz?
Any strait is international waters and we need to ensure that we solidify this point. It’s international law, maritime law and the order of the world. We will continue to discuss this because you don’t want to set a precedent in the Strait of Hormuz that others would follow.

It’s London Fashion Week again. After New York, it’s now the UK capital’s turn to host buyers and press, and to prove its creative mettle. It’s not easy being the warm-up act before the big-ticket shows in Milan and Paris but London’s charm lies in its scrappiness. This is where many creative directors at luxury houses – including Givenchy’s Sarah Burton, Dior’s Jonathan Anderson and Hermès’s head of menswear Grace Wales Bonner – spent their salad days, developing their viewpoints before going on to bigger gigs. To overlook London’s role as a cradle for emerging designers is to do the wider industry a disservice later down the line. “If Paris is luxury and Milan is heritage, then London is creativity and innovation,” the CEO of the British Fashion Council (BFC), Laura Weir, tells Monocle. “Rather than trying to be something that you’re not, I’m a firm believer in using your assets to the best of your ability.” 

Names to watch out for in the coming days include Johanna Parv, Pauline Dujancourt and EWUSIE: a trio of designers that draws on personal references ranging from cycling clothing to Ghanaian culture. For emerging designers, developing a direct-to-consumer niche might be the key to survival in an industry where wholesale and multi-brand retailers have declined over the past decade. “The shift in the wholesale landscape has had a cataclysmic effect on fashion brands’ opportunities to scale,” says Weir. “The cost of business rates and rent in London is an issue. It’s up to the BFC to come up with initiatives to support brands where we can. We’re mentoring designers to take different routes to market and launching Fashion House, our new initiative to create physical spaces for studios.”

This season, the BFC is also hoping to revitalise London’s status as a fashion capital by luring back Alexander McQueen from Paris, where the brand has been showing since 2000. The decision to return also makes sense for the luxury house, which has struggled to cut through the competitive noise of Paris in recent seasons. If the show on Sunday evening goes well, it will be interesting to see whether other British brands that have eschewed London for Milan or other cities decide to return home. 

Finally, Burberry will be closing the week on Monday night. The brand reported a return to profit in May, driven by sales in the US and China, after two years of struggling to position itself in a tighter luxury market. The success of the brand’s strategy – peddling a campy image of Britishness, complete with trench coats, Olivia Coleman and cups of tea – should offer hope to emerging and established UK-based designers.

Mid-September is a vernissage-packed time in the German capital, with almost every art gallery in the city opening its autumn show during the annual Berlin Art Week. And, thanks to Currents – a new festival that presented the work of local designers and manufacturers across more than 60 venues last weekend – another industry has crashed the party.

You might ask, “Who needs another design fair?” After all, even the finest pieces of furniture might find it hard to compete with Berlin’s high-calibre artists and museums. The showcase was also taking place around the same time as design weeks in London, Paris and Zürich. So it helped that Currents, founded by journalists Jasmin Jouhar and Laura Ewert, wasn’t jostling for the dollars of international collectors or a jet-set crowd but catering to everyday Berliners. Refreshingly, the furniture on show was almost all contemporary and fairly affordable.

As I wandered through various event venues, I found plenty of objects that I suddenly felt I needed in my life. Berlin-based studio Gonzalez Haase AAS and Munich’s Marbledworks presented small side tables assembled from coloured marble, which could be mixed and matched or stacked into a shelf – precious stone in a portable, unfussy form. Daftar made perforated steel versions of cake doilies, which they used to serve up tea and ice cream in a Kreuzberg carpet shop. Cutlery brand Mono launched an instant Berlin essential by Universität der Künste student Oskar Poetsch: a tool that serves as a French-fry fork, ice-cream spoon and bottle opener all in one, and can be attached to a keychain.

Part of the fun was exploring the venues themselves. All weekend, a motorcycle-themed bar operated within the Eternithaus in Hansaviertel. Fourteen designers had set up shop at Jalousiefabrik, an abandoned shutter factory in Kreuzberg that Berlin-based firm Bächlemeid and Taneli Mansikkamäki Architects will soon convert into apartments. Many vast, disused warehouses were filled with new design (if, admittedly, of uneven quality).

One of the highlights of Berlin Art Week was also architectural. Just for the weekend, the Neue Nationalgalerie arranged a public peek into the still-incomplete Museum des 20 Jahrhunderts next door. The huge construction site’s floor was the perfect setting for screenings of the work of artist Gordon Matta-Clark who, in the 1970s, filmed himself cutting a circle through an apartment building and slicing a suburban home in half.

It felt as though this curatorial stunt was for local residents rather than art-world sharks. People like to complain that Berlin has changed but the city still has plenty of disused and unfinished spaces, and smart people finding uses for them. Few places are better for people who create, make and build – and for those of us who just enjoy the results.

Stella Roos is Monocle’s design correspondent.

Roy Cohn’s life might not have been long – he was only 59 when he died of Aids in 1986 – but it was an eventful and influential one. It is arguable that this ruthless, pugnacious and almost gleefully malevolent New York lawyer shaped the current state and tone of US politics more than any other individual.

Cohn is the mentor credited with teaching US president Donald Trump everything he knows. He drilled his creed into his protégé: never admit fault, always hit back, use the law as a cosh, keep your name in the papers and fear is your friend. Trump’s introduction to Cohn at the ritzy Manhattan haunt, Le Club, in 1973 is to modern US politics what Robert Johnson’s 1930s encounter with the Devil at a Mississippi crossroads was to the blues.

When he met Trump, Cohn was already steeped in the theory and practice of paranoid brawling. As a young prosecutor, he helped send Soviet spies, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, to the electric chair. He had furthered his endeavours in red-baiting as a chief counsel to senator Joseph McCarthy, a bellicose drunk whose largely hallucinatory anti-communist witch hunts of the early 1950s destroyed the lives and careers of thousands. After McCarthy was poured into an early grave, Cohn made himself useful to generations of prominent conservatives – including presidents Richard Nixon and Jimmy Carter – and New York mobsters.      

Roy Cohn’s story is told in a new book by husband-and-wife team Kai Bird and Susan Goldmark, American Scoundrel: Roy Cohn’s Dark Journey from Joe McCarthy to Donald Trump. Bird spoke to Monocle’s Andrew Mueller.

This conversation has been edited for clarity and length.

What did people see in Roy Cohn? It’s not just Trump and McCarthy – it’s Aristotle Onassis, Barbara Walters, Rupert Murdoch, George Steinbrenner and many others.
In American Scoundrel, I struggled to explain how so many powerful elite New York personalities and celebrities could condescend to be in Roy Cohn’s presence. They all knew who he was. They all knew what he had done during the McCarthy era. They all knew that he was a mafioso lawyer. They all knew that he was despicable, yet they would show up. He hosted his own birthday parties at Studio 54 and the Armory, and two or three hundred of these elite New Yorkers toasted to Cohn’s good health. 

One reason for his popularity is that he could be very charming over the dinner table. He was a great gossip. But the other reason is that he was very transactional. He was a wheeler and a dealer, a fixer. He loved to find out what you wanted and then he’d find some friend of his to make it happen.

Was it just transactional with Trump? The book does hint at a genuine friendship.
I think there was a genuine friendship. When Cohn died, Trump showed up at his memorial service and Peter Manso – a journalist who knew them both – said that he saw him weeping. Trump is not the type of man who has genuine friendships. He has acquaintances and is an extremely transactional figure, just like Cohn. But I think they clicked. Cohn was a closeted gay man who never came out of the closet and Trump was his type – tall, blue-eyed and wealthy.

You spoke to President Trump during your research. He’s usually reluctant to extend credit to anybody else for anything. Does he extend any to Roy Cohn?
Absolutely. In my first phone interview with him – which was a cold call, by the way – I just dialled a number that someone had given me and Trump answered. I introduced myself quickly and said that I was writing a biography of Roy Cohn. He immediately gushed: “Oh, what a wonderful man he was! He was such a smart lawyer. We won a lot of cases together,” which wasn’t really true.

Trump was an insecure, aspiring real-estate developer when they met in 1973. Cohn opened the doors of Manhattan society for this young man and taught him how to deal with the press and the courts, and how to get his name into the gossip pages. He also encouraged him to think that he could get away with things. Cohn’s mother, Dora, had raised him with no guardrails, telling him that the rules didn’t apply to him, that he was special and that the rules were for small men. And Cohn taught Trump that.

Could anybody but Trump have applied those lessons to this effect?
Trump is a particularly charismatic, demagogic politician. But Cohn’s lack of ethics are haunting us from his grave. I used to think that McCarthy was just an aberration – a low point in American history that we had overcome – but I’ve reconsidered that notion. Every few generations, we go through a period of paranoia and insecurity. We become obsessed with the Other, resentful of the immigrant, suspicious of the establishment. We become conspiratorial. This is all the politics of Cohn.

Did you reach any conclusions about his motivations? He also campaigned against gay rights and persecuted gay people – was it all an exercise in deflection?
There were plenty of closeted gay men in the 1950s who didn’t turn out like Cohn. It’s part of the answer but the other explanation is that he’s a product of New York, a product of the Bronx. His father was a Bronx judge and his mother was the daughter of a wealthy banker. He grew up on Park Avenue and his mother took him to Sing Sing every weekend to visit his beloved Uncle Bernie – the only banker after the crash of 1929 who was convicted of bank fraud and sent to prison. Dora told her son that Uncle Bernie was the victim of a vendetta by Jewish communists and Wall Street Wasp bankers who refused to bail out this Jewish bank [the Bank of United States]. And so Cohn imbibed this conspiratorial view of the world, full of these resentments, which explains his actions as an adult.

When an event doesn’t have a dress code, it can either lead to panic or great inventiveness. Every year as Monocle’s Quality of Life Conference approaches, we receive a handful of emails from first-time attendees asking: will the gala dinner be formal? Would it be wise to pack a tie? Are shorts permissible on the city tours? Returning delegates are old enough to know what suits them best, and from São Paulo to Manila, they simply reach for trusted favourites in their wardrobes.

This year’s gathering – which ran from Thursday 3 to Saturday 5 September – was hosted in Lisbon. Perhaps everyone wished they had packed some shorts when, at the welcome cocktail, the mercury rose to 37C. Instead, most of our delegates managed to finesse a look featuring some combination of a linen jacket, a fine T-shirt and a smart pair of sandals as they attempted to be cool (in both senses of the word). And as for our speakers, they nailed it.

Across the arc of the three-day event, from auditorium to farewell brunch, it was impressive to see how well people pack. Things were a bit easier for the home crowd, of course, not only because they had their entire wardrobes to choose from but also because there are so many summer-ready Portuguese brands to choose from, such as La Paz and +351. It explains why team Portugal – from Lisbon’s mayor Carlos Moedas to designer Pedro Oliveira – stayed looking sharp throughout.

Here we spotlight a few of our favourite looks at the conference that embody what Nicolas Gabard, founder of Parisian label Husbands, explained on stage: dressing up should be fun and show who you really are. Oh, and we also reveal what our editors packed.

View Monocle’s upcoming events here.

Summer in Italy unfurled in the usual fashion. People decamped en masse to the finest beaches across the land. In regions from Liguria to Puglia, they filled the pockets of those in the beach-concession racket in return for a chance to bronze on a lounger under an umbrella, perhaps with the week’s edition of crossword magazine La Settimana Enigmistica in hand. A spritz of some sort will have no doubt played a part too.

The beach holiday is an Italian ritual and residents of this country have no qualms about plunging into salty expanses. But when it comes to lakes, they are rather more reticent. True, the latter are a winner for cooler nights (thanks to their higher altitude), especially during infernally hot summers. They’re also good for dipping one’s toes in after a passeggiata along the shore. Italians, however, are more likely to get into the hotel pool. Plus, aren’t lakes for gauche tourists who are trying to spot George Clooney, anyway?

In my years of living in northern Italy I have had plenty of conversations with Italians about the more sinister side of lakes. While they don’t fear an Italian version of the Loch Ness monster lurking below, something doesn’t wash well. A few months ago I was chatting with a photographer friend, Alessandro, on a work trip in South Tyrol. He grew up just outside Milan but both of his parents are from the south. He’s happy to take summer holidays visiting family and baking in the southern Mediterranean sun. As for swimming in a lake? He can’t explain why but he wants nothing to do with them.

That might be related to media horror stories about people who have fallen victim to the mysterious powers of lakes. This summer there were headlines about a German tourist who, while visiting the village of Nesso, had waded into Lake Como and never got out again. There are many other terrible tales, stretching back years, often featuring the young and the infirm. But, according to the national broadcaster, Rai, the number of drowning deaths has been constant for the past two decades at about 350 deaths a year – and that includes the sea, lakes and swimming pools combined.

Earlier in the summer I was sitting at a garden table outside a small house that belongs to my brother-in-law’s family, overlooking a village with an ancient church spire and, beyond that, the vast expanse of Lake Garda. The house sits across from Salò on the other side of the lake, the home of Mussolini’s final holdout republic. As we sat around eating lunch, talk turned to the latest lake horror story. Playing my outsider card – and aided by a few glasses of white wine – I took it upon myself to rib the gathered Italians about their fear of lakes. I was quickly put in my place by someone who turned out to be an expert on the Alpine glacial formation of these geographical features. Without missing a beat, he explained that they get very deep, very quickly. He added, sniffing victory, that the combination of cold water from deep below combined with warm water on the surface causes unpredictable currents. 

Had I failed to consider the currents? Quite possibly (though further research suggests that their main driver is wind, rather than a combination of water temperatures). So is the Italian phobia of lakes entirely justified? The jury is still out on that. 

Ed Stocker is Monocle’s Milan-based Europe editor at large. For more opinion, analysis and insight, subscribe to Monocle today.

Every year, crowds of linen-clad holidaymakers descend upon the Hamptons. If you know where to go, you’ll be well-equipped to enjoy the long stretches of sandy beaches and bays untouched by the casual tourist. The collection of seaside enclaves on the eastern edge of Long Island makes for an idyllic retreat for those needing to take a breath after a busy summer.

You can find peaceful pockets away from the traffic to catch a glimpse of what the picturesque region was once like in the 1950s and 1960s. A few of the more hidden beach towns, interspersed between the bay and the sparkling Atlantic shore, still echo the days when architects such as Andrew Geller were lining the streets with modernist marvels and creatives from Jackson Pollock to Willem de Kooning were among the regular crowd. Here are three of our favourites.

1.
Amagansett, for those in need of retail therapy

Amagansett is a hamlet found in East Hampton – one of the region’s more laid-back towns – where instead of Chanel, you’ll find La Garçonne, an outpost of the New York multibrand boutique that stocks Dries Van Noten, Toteme and Sofie D’Hoore. Its main street features independent footwear brand Sabah, known for its Turkish slides, and 180 the Store, a homeware retailer housed in a white building that looks like a chic beach cabana. Il Buco Al Mare, the sister restaurant to New York’s Il Buco and Bottega Il Buco in Ibiza, serves mushroom-topped focaccia and littleneck clams in a wood-clad space with a terrace. You’ll also find Amagansett Square, a green space ringed with shops and restaurants including Doubles, which serves burgers best eaten al-fresco, and Jack’s Stir Brew Coffee, a favourite of Alec Baldwin and Jerry Seinfeld. Amber Waves and Balsam Farms both stock crates of fresh local produce – rocket, basil, corn, wild flowers – on the outskirts of town.

If you prefer to host your own dinners, renting a house nearby can offer a sanctuary. The Roundtree Beach House – a classic, low-slung 1960s home that the nearby Roundtree hotel rents out to guests – comes with access to bicycles; hotel amenities, including breakfast and regular cleaning; an outdoor barbecue; and a lawn with a hammock set under the trees. For those who would rather not find themselves in the kitchen on holiday, The Hedges Inn, a boutique property in nearby East Hampton, recently opened under new owners Sarah and Andrew Wetenhall, who also operate The Colony Hotel in Palm Beach. They have overhauled the 13-room, 19th-century building with preppy-yet-playful interiors and butlers on hand to whisk guests to the open sands.

2.
Shelter Island, for slowing down amid luxury

Shelter Island, where the ocean laps calm beaches, is wedged between the North and South Forks of Long Island. The island might be small and quiet but hotels are in surprisingly good supply. The Chequit is a newly refurbished New England-style inn on the waterfront, while André Balazs’s Sunset Beach features sunny yellow rooms that look as though they belong on the Mediterranean. The island’s restaurants have a distinct, close-knit feel.

At Léon 1909, meals are cooked over an open wood-burning hearth in a barn-like space, while Marie Eiffel Market serves coffee and croissants best enjoyed on the dock. Though you will hear the distant rumble of private jets flying overhead, delivering New Yorkers to their mansions elsewhere in the Hamptons, on Shelter Island there’s hardly any traffic – and far fewer peacocking cars.

3.
Sag Harbor, for connoisseurs in search of simple pleasures

Just a twenty minute drive from Amagansett, you’ll find a yachting town on the bay side of Long Island with a strong year-round community. Sag Harbor might have a Goop outpost but the town is also home to Sag Harbor Books, a matchbox-sized independent bookshop with shelves of hard-to-find collectables and signed copies. Carissa’s is a bright bakery with glass cabinets stacked full of baguettes and pastries, a stone’s throw from a park overlooking the bay for a waterside picnic. If you’re craving Italian food for dinner, Tutto il Giorno serves clam linguine on a plant-filled terrace. 

The new Faraway hotel, which opened its doors in June, is spread across classic white-slatted and shingled buildings with a pool that looks directly onto the harbour. The coastal interiors, akin to those you might expect to find in Nantucket, lean into the town’s nautical history with a cream and navy-blue colour palette. The Church is a multidisciplinary arts and cultural centre that showcases exhibitions and performances by local makers. Further out in Water Mill, better known for its spacious beach houses than for culture, the Parrish Art Museum features the work of artists who resided in the Hamptons, from Jackson Pollock and Willem de Kooning to Joan Mitchell.

We celebrate the charming structures that dot Lisbon’s parks and praças. These monuments of art nouveau might be small but their impact often extends across the neighbourhood. Quiosques welcome people from all walks of life, serving as a pitstop for dog walkers, a verdant workplace for creatives, a place for a quick pick-me-up or even a gathering spot on a night out.

Just before jetting off to Colombia to meet Abelardo de la Espriella, the country’s Donald Trump-friendly president, Marco Rubio, the US secretary of state, was asked why he wasn’t visiting Venezuela, where a controversial oil deal was recently inked with its acting president, Delcy Rodríguez. “You can’t go everywhere,” he replied, before boarding a plane to Bogotá, then Peru and Ecuador, where he will have the not-so-tough task of sitting down with friendly conservative leaders to discuss their common aims.

It was classic Rubio: come the merest whiff of backlash or a potential political quagmire, he pulls off his disappearing act. In the past week, vice-president JD Vance has been floundering in front of the press in the White House, arguing the semantics of whether the protracted war in Iran is, in fact, a war and parrying questions about when it will end. Meanwhile, Trump’s special envoys Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner have been in Russia and Ukraine, trying to restart talks.

These are two of the most pressing foreign-policy issues that the US faces today but the man who is meant to be the country’s most senior diplomat appears to have precious little investment in either. The war in Gaza is another divisive political hot potato; Rubio has not been to Israel since October last year. He was expected to travel there in March but the trip was called off when the US started bombing Iran and, though the US secretary of state did make a trip to reassure Gulf allies in June, he has not been personally involved in any of the direct negotiations to end the war.

In a normal administration, this might be read as a sign that the president lacks trust in his secretary of state and is redirecting crucial issues to Vance or Kushner. But this is not a normal administration. Trump made that clear when he quipped in June that he would “blame JD” if an early deal with Iran fell through. Everyone is trying to dodge a bullet and please their boss. And the one man who seems to be the expert at playing “not it” with the trickiest assignments is the ever-evasive Rubio. 

As others deal with crises in the Middle East, Rubio, the son of Cuban immigrants, has made Latin America his territory. He has been dogged in his efforts to hobble the communist regime in Cuba – a deeply personal goal for him – by applying a range of economic sanctions. He was also happy to claim a role in the January raid to capture Venezuela’s then president, Nicolás Maduro, which some saw as an audacious success. 

The recent Venezuelan oil deal, which gives the US access to untapped reserves, is more divisive: it was signed by Maduro’s unelected left-wing successor, Delcy Rodríguez. While Rubio helped to negotiate the deal, he has been cagey when answering questions about an exact timeline for elections in Venezuela.  

But Venezuela’s democratic future isn’t an issue worrying large swaths of the US. Instead, Americans are concerned about the impact of the Iran war on their wallets. And anyone tainted by association with the conflict will struggle to shake it off. Rubio, who is considered a frontrunner for the Republican nomination for the 2028 presidential race, has so far played a savvy game, hitching his wagon to foreign-policy success stories and identifying the issues to avoid.

But there are pitfalls to this approach. If Rubio wants to be president, he needs to keep a high profile and show the electorate what he stands for. His tour of Colombia, Peru and Ecuador was not exactly front-page news and promoting democracy in Cuba, while pursuing economic gain in Venezuela, raises questions about double standards. 

Rubio will need to find a way to connect with ordinary Americans on the issues that they care about, not just pursue those that he cares about. Right now, keeping a distance from an unpopular president and an unpopular war seems canny. But he can only avoid the world’s most pressing problems for so long before the public starts wondering whether it’s time for him to start doing his job. 

Charlotte McDonald-Gibson is a Washington-based journalist and regular Monocle contributor. For more opinion, analysis and insight, subscribe to Monocle today.