Which is one reason why recent events in the Trump-Russia relationship are so strange: Every indication points to the president coming to a harsher stance toward the Kremlin. The major example of this is the tough line the White House took over the poisoning of a former Russian spy and his daughter in Salisbury, Britain.* Not only did the Trump administration join with nearly 30 other countries expelling Russian officials, but the U.S. reaction—60 diplomats or spies kicked out, and a consulate shuttered—dwarfed any other nation’s steps. Meanwhile, Russia’s new ambassador to the U.S. has seen doors figuratively slammed in his face as he tries to settle in to Washington. Contrast that with his predecessor, Sergey Kislyak, who with the Russian foreign minister managed to obtain an Oval Office meeting, in which Trump called recently fired FBI Director James Comey a “nut job” and divulged classified information.

Last week, when Trump abruptly pushed out National-Security Adviser H.R. McMaster in favor of John Bolton, many observers noted that while Bolton fit Trump’s rhetorical style, the two men diverged on some key issues—most notably Russia. But what if that wasn’t a mistake or a tradeoff, and the hire was another piece of Trump’s turn against the Kremlin?

The White House has long protested that it was much tougher on Russia than it receives credit for. That argument has some truth to it, though mostly if you separate the president from the conversation. Other top officials, especially UN Ambassador Nikki Haley, have drawn a tough line on Putin. It’s more Trump’s own rhetoric, as well as his press secretary’s, that has been strangely deferential. Even amid the recent turn, Trump found time to congratulate Putin on his electoral victory, over the express (and all-caps) advice of his aides.

Heightening the peculiarity of the apparent change of heart is the motivation. When Russia interfered in American affairs, Trump tried to ignore the story, refused to blame Russia, sought to finger other culprits, and muddied the waters. Yet when Russia (by all indications) poisoned a Russian national on British soil, the president acknowledged it publicly and took decisive action.

Trump’s critics have tended to interpret his soft-pedaling on Russia as self-incriminating evidence of collusion with the Kremlin during the 2016 campaign—or, among the more conspiratorially minded, as evidence that Putin possesses compromising material on the president—but the fact and circumstances of his recent reversal, despite little political upside, complicate the picture. It has long been clear that one reason Trump is so peevish about stories of Russian interference in the election is that he feels such stories delegitimize his victory. His willingness to strike back at Russia now, on an unrelated provocation, shows just how much that sensitivity might explain his actions.