When Donald Trump was ready to take his pound of flesh, Kevin Rudd was here to help

From his humble early days as a child reading Hansard in the regional Sunshine State pocket of Eumundi, Kevin Rudd has been preparing for this martyrdom.

But the Passion Of The Kevin, when it came, was a million miles from home. It came in the White House's Cabinet Room, lately and elaborately emblingened by the 47th US president with golden plate ware, golden cornicing and golden drapes.

This room is best known in the current Trump administration for its lengthy cabinet meetings in which departmental secretaries take turns to descant upon the president's greatness and wisdom while the man himself listens sternly, occasionally allowing himself an economical nod of agreement.

It is very different from the Cabinet Room in Canberra, which has more of a native-timber vibe and in which Rudd, in his two short terms as prime minister, inflicted and absorbed injuries the extent of which we won't know till the 20-year Cabinet papers disclosure happens. (Set your calendar reminder, trauma tourists — 2027 isn't far away!)

But on Monday, in front of the gathered press, Rudd — from Queensland, here to help — took one for the team in the most spectacular way.

It's not known if — in the traditional back-channel wrangling that invariably precedes such encounters — the long-awaited meeting between the Australian prime minister and US president Donald Trump was pre-agreed to feature a scene in which the president ritually humiliated our former PM.

I mean, it's possible. All sorts of other treats were prepared for the president, whose great 3G of loves are golf, gold and goring allies during televised press events.

Anthony Albanese went into his meeting armed with the perennially open chequebook for American submarines, plus an option over our continent's considerable rare-earths reserves, so it stands to reason that a human sacrifice might also have hovered in the ether.

Trump's fork in the road

But the risks were high. Experience tells us that a live press event with the US president is much more apt to go horribly wrong the longer and stauncher an ally you've been.

Even with the most careful preparation, there was always the chance that POTUS would suddenly veer into a rant about Melbourne being a rat's nest of crime, or hit "play" on a Gina Rinehart corporate video.

But it didn't happen. Trump was genial and glowing about Albanese, who he deemed "highly respected".

"We've been long-term, longtime allies and I would say there's never been anybody better," Trump said of the Australian alliance.

"We fought wars together and we never had any doubts. It's a great honour to have you as my friend and a great honour to have you in the United States of America."

And when the president took his pound of human flesh, it was not from the body of the prime minister seated beside him.

A delegate from Sky News asked President Trump — not for the first time — whether Ambassador Rudd's past criticism of him had been an element in the long wait for this first face-to-face encounter between the two leaders.

Trump — seated at the table with his Secretary of State Marco Rubio (who once called him a "third world strongman") and his Vice President JD Vance (who in the past has called him "reprehensible" and an "idiot") listened intently.

"I don't know anything about him," replied Trump. "Is he still working?"

An interpretive fork in the road presents itself very clearly here.

Option A is that the US president genuinely doesn't know who the Australian ambassador is, despite having been alerted in the past to Rudd's past critiques of his glorious self. And hey — it's possible. This is a guy who recently congratulated himself for ending the bloody border war between Azerbaijan and Albania, which came as something of a surprise to the Albanians, a 36-hour drive away from the actual protagonists in … Armenia.

Option B is that Trump, who loves to take public revenge on his enemies, knows very well who Rudd is; well enough, in fact, to know that the most wounding thing he could possibly say about him on the global stage is, in fact, "Kevin who?"

Either way, Albanese laughingly pointed him out, Rudd sucked it up and apologised, Trump declared "I don't like you", everybody laughed, and the show rolled on.

Smoke and mirrors

Whatever it is right now, the US is an ally with which our relationship remains intact. And while Australians remain concertedly suspicious of Trump, it's possible that in hanging shit on Rudd, the president has finally provided a relatable moment Down Under.

There were — as ever — ancillary winners and losers from the encounter.

Treasurer Jim Chalmers lost his otherwise secure claim to Martyr Of The Week, his partial retreat on superannuation clearly taking silver to the gold-medal sacrifice of Saint Kevin.

For the opposition at home, it was another grim, grim day. As patriots, of course, they are obliged to celebrate the confirmation of warm relations with our long-term ally.

In partisan private, they're entitled to kick over a rubbish bin.

That the US president (for some of whose values undergirded the culture wars the Coalition went down fighting just months ago) should buddy up so flagrantly with this Labor Left prime minister has got to hurt.

It's as mixed up and confusing as Trump's enemies will feel if — in the fullness of time — it turns out he really did bring peace to the Middle East and freedom for Palestine (an outcome that is, of course, far from established).

These are the times we inhabit. Full of smoke and mirrors. Uncertainty. The unfurling of things we thought impossible.

In this shifting global geopolitical miasma, where so much seems beyond our control, the elements that remain within our control become even more important. Consistency. Decency. Taking questions from critics. Taking one for the team when necessary.

Where is Kevin Rudd now? If there's any justice in the world, Albanese will be buying him a big juicy Australian steak in DC. One pound of flesh deserves another.