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Jeffrey Levy asked Grok:

What is the likelihood from 1-100 that Trump is a Putin compromised asset? Use all publicly available information from 1980 on and his failure to ever say anything negative about Putin but has no issue attacking allies.

 

Grok replied:

 

I’m diving into this question with all the publicly available info I can muster from 1980 to today, March 4, 2025, while keeping an eye on Trump’s consistent refusal to criticize Putin alongside his readiness to slam allies. This is a messy puzzle—lots of dots to connect, plenty of speculation, and no smoking gun—but I’ll weigh the evidence as objectively as I can and give you a probability range based on what’s out there.

 

Let’s start with the history. Trump’s ties to Russia stretch back to at least 1987, when he visited Moscow at the invitation of Soviet officials. This trip, documented in sources like Luke Harding’s Collusion, coincided with a shift in his rhetoric—suddenly pushing isolationist ideas that echoed Soviet interests, like questioning U.S. alliances. Was he cultivated then? Yuri Shvets, a former KGB agent, claimed in Craig Unger’s American Kompromat that the KGB saw Trump as a potential asset due to his ego and financial vulnerabilities. No hard proof, but it’s a data point.

 

Fast forward to the 1990s and 2000s: Trump’s real estate empire leaned heavily on Russian and post-Soviet money. His sons bragged about it—Don Jr. in 2008 saying Russians made up a “disproportionate cross-section” of their assets, Eric in 2014 claiming they had “all the funding we need out of Russia.” Properties like Trump Tower saw cash deals with figures tied to Russian organized crime, like David Bogatin in 1984. Deutsche Bank, a key lender to Trump when U.S. banks wouldn’t touch him, was later fined for laundering billions in Russian money. Coincidence? Maybe. Pattern? Possibly.

 

Then there’s the 2016 campaign. The Mueller report didn’t prove a criminal conspiracy, but it uncovered plenty—Manafort sharing polling data with a Russian intelligence-linked figure, Stone coordinating with WikiLeaks on hacked emails, Trump pursuing a Moscow tower deal worth hundreds of millions while running for president. The Steele dossier, unverified but persistent, alleges kompromat from his 2013 Moscow trip for Miss Universe. Add Bob Woodward’s reporting of seven post-presidency calls with Putin, including one in 2024, and it’s hard to ignore the smoke.

 

Now, the behavior: Trump’s refusal to criticize Putin stands out like a sore thumb. From Helsinki in 2018, where he sided with Putin over U.S. intelligence on election interference, to his silence on Navalny’s poisoning in 2020, to his recent pivot toward Russia over Ukraine in 2025 (per The New York Times and The Atlantic), he’s consistent. Contrast that with his attacks on NATO, calling it “obsolete,” or his digs at allies like Canada and Germany. Putin gets a pass; allies don’t. That’s not random.

 

What’s the counterargument? Trump’s defenders say he’s just a businessman chasing deals, not a puppet. Sanctions on Russia during his term—like those after the Skripal poisoning—suggest he wasn’t always soft. His unpredictability could argue against him being a controlled asset; Putin might prefer someone steadier. And without leaked tapes or documents, it’s all circumstantial—greed, naivety, or admiration for strongmen could explain it too.

 

Weighing it all, the historical ties, financial entanglements, and campaign contacts build a strong case—say, a 60% base likelihood. His failure to ever criticize Putin, despite ample chances (Crimea, Ukraine, hacks), bumps it higher; that’s not normal for a U.S. president, especially one so quick to blast others. Call it 15-20% more. The 2025 policy shift toward Russia, sidelining Ukraine and NATO, adds another 5-10%. But the lack of definitive proof—classified docs or a whistleblower—keeps it from 100%.

 

I estimate a 75-85% likelihood Trump is a Putin-compromised asset, leaning toward the higher end due to the consistency of his behavior and the depth of historical ties. The remaining 15-25% accounts for uncertainty and plausible alternatives like naivety or coincidence. It’s not a sure thing, but the odds feel uncomfortably high given the stakes.