And the patron across the Ocean? As the Guardian tells it, Trump said on Newsmax that the thing was a disgrace, and that Zelensky was doing nothing but drive up the world price of oil. A few days before, the same man had eased sanctions on Russia so that Moscow would pour large quantities of diesel onto the markets; many, by the same account, read this as a move to bring down fuel prices before the midterm elections. Meanwhile, as Zelensky complains, the Ukrainians received no American warning of ballistic missiles during those three days, and Starlink, by which drones and air defences are directed, was restricted; the BBC learned from Ukrainian sources that it has been partly restored, and Wes Streeting says Pete Hegseth assured him of this face to face. Who ordered it, the reports do not say. More than a hundred Ukrainian civilians were killed in the past week, Zelensky asserts, and hundreds of thousands left without power.

Now let us look at the map of the war. Moscow's strength lies not on the battle line alone but in these refineries: from them its treasury, from them the fuel of its legions, from them its supply. He who merely holds the enemy inside his own borders dies slowly; he who strikes at the springs of the enemy's power ends the war. I did not beat Hannibal in Italy, where he roamed unpunished for sixteen years; I called him out of Italy by setting Carthage itself alight. When Zelensky carries the war to Ryazan, he keeps to the right road of war, the road I took when I crossed into Africa.

I grant that the patron must care for the price of necessities; no magistrate stands long when the people blame him for the price of grain. But to ease prices at home with diesel bought from the enemy is to pay the enemy tribute. None of our ancestors, with Hannibal standing in Italy, made grain cheaper at Rome by buying it from Carthage. And a ceasefire proclaimed by one man and accepted by no one is no ceasefire but an edict, which binds only the ally and sets the enemy free.

I remember Saguntum. Our allies were under siege; we sent envoys and deliberated while the city was stormed for months on end. Saguntum fell, and peace did not come to us for it: the same war, far greater, came to the Ticinus, to the Trebia, to Cannae. The patron who dodges his ally's war to spare himself receives it later at his own gates. And whoever holds his ally's eyes and voice in his hand, to shut them when he pleases, has not an ally but a client; and a client held in contempt is soon not even a client.

Masinissa I won to my side not by command but by kindness and good faith; that is why I had the Numidian horse at Zama. Allies are gained by gifts and faith, not by cut-off messages. Yet Zelensky is not without danger: a man who loses his patron's eyes sends a blind army into battle, and he takes on that danger knowingly. The Europeans, whom he himself calls real leaders, should, if they are real, send Patriot interceptor missiles, which Zelensky demands as the minimum, not compliments. Guido Crosetto, Italy's defence minister, spoke rightly, as the BBC reports: peace will come only when Putin feels he can advance no further.

This, then, is my counsel. The war must be carried to the enemy's springs, and not suspended on account of the price of diesel. An ally's eyes must never be a pledge to bargain with. Those who can guard the Ukrainian sky should do so; those who cannot should contribute missiles and money. "Good faith is the foundation of justice": he who shuts his ally's eyes to buy himself cheaper oil will lose the ally and owe the oil to the enemy. This is my judgment; may Jupiter Capitolinus turn our counsels to good.