A collage showing the U.S. trade advisor Peter Navarro superimposed on the BRICS+. Credit: Nastranis

Some economists pass their careers in front of computer screens scrutinising spreadsheets, complaining about interest rates, and disappearing gracefully into the beige landscape of wonkish foreign policy. Peter Navarro, a professor emeritus of economics and public policy at the Paul Merage School of Business of the University of California, Irvine, is not “some economists”, though.

He has been the senior counsellor for trade and manufacturing to U.S. President Donald Trump since January 2025. He previously served in the first Trump administration, first as the director of the White House National Trade Council, then as the director of the new Office of Trade and Manufacturing Policy.

He is the Bela Lugosi of the theory of trade, the Count Dracula of tariffs, the man who regards Brazil, Russia, India, China, South Africa not as giant economies but as vampires of the night—looming in the darkness just beyond America’s bedroom window, eager to suck out its precious blood.

On Real America’s Voice, a right-wing streaming, cable and satellite television channel, Navarro not only criticises BRICS. It was a horror film, a sheer horror film, where Van Helsing was playing him and the world’s fastest economies were zombies. In a shaky voice infused with despair, he menacingly threatened: “They’re vampires, sucking our blood dry with unfair trade practices.”

If economics is routinely dull, Navarro is to his discredit: he supplies a rapid-fire presentation of horror films and shows during Halloween, celebrated annually on October 31. The professor emeritus has presented us a fantasy film on international politics:

Scene 1: Navarro, Alone in the Castle

Navarro enters his studio as a man who’s just taken out a cabal of vampire economists in the faculty lounge at Harvard single-handedly. “These economies won’t survive unless they sell to us,” he says. Lightning lights up the skies. Thunder thunders. The dollar trembles in its tomb.

He adds a kicker: “Historically, they all hate each other and kill each other.” Translation: BRICS is not quite an economic coalition, but rather a messed-up vampire coven squabbling over who’s next to suck Wall St.

Scene 2: BRICS in the Background

Cut to a gothic chamber: Lula polishing his cape, Xi sharpening his teeth on chip semiconductors, Modi spinning his cloak in a Bollywood way, Putin in a Nosferatu pose, and Ramaphosa searching for his fangs. As a team, they hiss at remarks from Navarro and lift goblets of oil, of soybeans, and of gold.

The newest additions—Egypt, Ethiopia, Iran, UAE, Indonesia—hover in the background, still menacingly hissing. If Navarro were correct, BRICS would collapse in a jealous rage. They rejoice in their expanded numbers, though, and map out trade corridors while Navarro chokes for breath in a crucifix.

Scene 3: Vampire Hunter Turns the Mirror on India

India, according to Navarro, is importing “blood money” oil from Russia. Modi is criticised for moonlighting as Dracula’s energy accountant. India’s Ministry of External Affairs is not impressed, calling Navarro’s remarks “misleading and inaccurate.” But in Navarro’s play, India is not a democracy of 1.4 billion—it’s a fang-polished co-conspirator refuelling the Kremlin’s treasury.

Here, instead of “petrodollars,” we are introduced to “blood money,” and the G20 is a haunted house with Modi as its president.

Scene 4: Origin of Navarro

Every vampire hunter requires a background. Navarro’s is a tale of pulp fiction: Harvard Ph.D., unsuccessful California politician, then reincarnated as Trump’s trade wizard. At one point, he had been a mainstream economist. Still, sometime between his conviction for contempt of Congress and his death, he became a garlic-wielding exorcist of international commerce.

Tariffs to him are stakes of wood, trade deficits are bite marks in the dark, and multilateral institutions are bats in the dark sky. No economist does he remain, but a vigilante armed with a garlic press release.

Scene 5: Morning in the Globalised World

Dawn breaks, and the BRICS do not turn to dust. They assemble, they trade, they build—like vampires who’ve found SPF 100 sunscreen. Navarro’s apocalyptic ravings recede into the background, much like a B-movie villain. The dollar holds out, markets swing, and the BRICS goes on a growth tear.

At the same time, Navarro prowls his tower, jotting down additional prophecies: “Beware the Vampire Alliance!” He prepares for his next broadcast, cape poised.

Final Act: Vampire Summit

Think of it as a cartoon: hot and furious Navarro, armed with a garlic-stuffed tariff schedule, standing up against the BRICS leaders in Count Chocula garb. Lula whispers in his ear, “Do we eat him now or later?” Xi dismissively shakes his shoulders. Putin opens his fangs. Modi asks for a Bollywood song-and-dance number first. It ends with Navarro shouting into the void: “America won’t be your blood bank!” The BRICS laugh, toast with mugs of U.S. Treasury bonds, and are gone into the mist.