TNP Exclusive: 48 hours in Trump’s D.C.
It’s just before noon on the Sunday before Inauguration Day. Tourists sporting red Make America Great Again hats and American flags are waiting in a seemingly endless line that leads to Capital One Arena, where soon-to-be President Donald Trump is expected to appear at a “Make America Great Again Victory Rally” the night before his swearing-in ceremony. A life-sized cutout of Trump bobs above the crowd; looking closer, I notice that they’re passing it up the line, attached to a surfboard.
There’s a lot to take in. In those first moments, I’m having some serious doubts.
Stray reporters and photographers skirt the edges of the line as the Village People’s “YMCA,” a favorite song of Trump’s, plays on a speaker. Across the street, vendors are selling all things Trump; t-shirts reading “I’m back, bitches” and “Daddy’s home,” alongside Make America Great Again flags. The now-iconic image of a bloodied Trump raising a triumphant fist after his assassination attempt at a rally last summer is hard to escape.
Clinging to my laminated student media lanyard and trying my best not to lose my dad in the crowd, I’m hyper aware of my lack of MAGA garb. Realistically, no one’s scrutinizing my appearance or sizing me up. Most likely, my camera and lanyard aren’t as noticeable as I think they are; if they are, no one around me seems to care. But a part of me is still wary of being perceived as part of the “fake news media,” a target of the skepticism so popularized by Trump in his first term.
Trump supporters in line for a “Victory Rally” the day before Inauguration Day. Photo via Lily Franks/The New Political
“People are just dying for genuine leadership”
Having witnessed the massive, slow-moving line outside Capital One Arena, my dad and I headed for the museums, figuring we’d missed our chances with the MAGA Victory rally. But by the time we’d finished our afternoon on the National Mall and began making our way back to the parking garage, security guards were ushering stragglers inside the barricades as Trump took the stage.
Inside, guards direct the stream of rally-goers around corners and up escalators. Echoes of Trump’s voice can be heard throughout the concourse. A woman on the escalator jokes, “Talk slower! I’m not there yet!”
The energy inside the arena is electric. We settle on a viewing spot minutes before Trump invites the Village People onstage for a live performance of “YMCA.”
“Can you imagine Biden doing this?” my dad says as we’re leaving the arena. I can’t. The idea of it is unthinkable. But it’s clear that Trump’s showmanship has had the desired effect; his eccentrism is what makes him popular.
“I think people see him as genuine and not afraid to take on the establishment. The Republican establishment or the Democratic establishment,” a supporter visiting from Sunbury, Ohio — a suburb of Columbus — tells me the next day outside the Capitol. He’s here with his son and grandson, whose Ohio State hat I picked out of the crowd. “People are just dying for genuine leadership.”
(Left to right) Father, grandson and son from Sunbury, Ohio give a “Trump thumbs up” for the camera. Photo via Lily Franks/The New Political
“Okay, we can breathe a little easier”
The morning of President Trump’s swearing-in, the streets surrounding the Capitol Building are a maze of fences, news vans and law enforcement vehicles.
Among the 25,000 security personnel dispersed along the miles of barricades are 7,800 National Guard troops and 3,800 police officers from agencies all over the country. People in uniforms — some in black, others in camo — stand in clusters along the fencing.
Eventually, we made it to the front side of the Capitol building where crowds would have watched the inauguration on giant screens lining the mall had the original plans stayed intact. Many have still gathered along the barricade.
Photo via Lily Franks/The New Political
The crowd is smaller than it might have been but lively nonetheless. A white man with dirty blond dreadlocks speaks to a camera: “And we’re sick of the deep state! And we’re sick of the scumbags!” Triumphant chants of “U-S-A! U-S-A!” come and go.
As noon approaches on the National Mall, phones come out of pockets as people tune into live streams of the procession taking place inside the Capitol. Emotions are running high. A woman at the front of the barricades repeats, “Praise Jesus.” When JD Vance takes his oath of office, cheers erupt around me. A voice in the crowd pipes up, “Okay. We can breathe a little easier.”
When it’s time for Trump’s inaugural address, a proselytizing Christian steps down from his pedestal and starts playing the speech through his speaker. The crowd lowers its volume and moves to surround the speaker, breaking out in applause each time the President describes another executive order he plans to sign.
Supporters react to President Trump’s promise to rename the Gulf of Mexico to the “Gulf of America.” Photo via Lily Franks/The New Political
As things wrap up and the crowd disperses, I take the chance to talk to some supporters. I catch Gregg Donovan, whose long red overcoat, top hat and giant gold chain has been catching eyes all morning, as he’s striding down the National Mall away from the Capitol. I’ve noticed him talking to camera after camera, repeating the same phrase. “The golden age of America is coming.” I ask him what this means to him.
“Prosperity.” He hesitates. “Law and order. Safety.” I follow up by asking what Trump policies he believes will get us there.
He doesn’t give specifics. “The President’s signing 200 executive orders. There’s a lot of things that should be done.”
Gregg Donovan, visiting from Los Angeles, echoes Trump’s ultimate promise: “The golden age of America is coming.” Photo via Lily Franks/The New Political
Another supporter mentions inflation. “I’m tired of economic inflation,” a young man in a royal blue suit and an Ohio State beanie tells me. The 23-year-old Trump supporter, who asked to remain anonymous, recently bought his first house. “I was lucky,” he said. “There’s a lot of young people who have no hope of buying a house right now.”
“Us three Asians are more patriotic than everyone else in this restaurant”
Located two blocks from the Supreme Court and just across the street from the headquarters of the conservative think tank the Heritage Foundation, Pho 79 is alive with Trump supporters in MAGA hats and heavy winter wear.
As my dad and I sit down for lunch, I overhear a woman seated at the counter making small talk with the patrons to her left and right. She’s from Fort Myers, Florida, and she has one question for everyone else: are you here for Trump?
Overhead, a live stream of Trump’s post-inauguration luncheon plays on the TV. The woman from Fort Myers, along with the family at a table adjacent to where she sits at the counter, breaks out in applause periodically as Trump speaks to the crowd.
Each time they clap, I notice the woman scanning the rest of the room. I keep my eyes fixed on my food, trying not to engage. I sense her disapproval and wait, somewhat on edge, for her to comment.
When she finally does, it’s directed at the family adjacent to her. “How is it that we’re the Asians, and we’re supporting, and no one else? Us three Asians are more patriotic than everyone else in this restaurant.”
Her tone is accusatory, and her gaze sweeps the room as if to demand answers from the rest of us. She even goes as far as to ask the people sitting to her left and right at the counter why they weren’t clapping.
But she raises an interesting point — the diversity among those roaming the streets in MAGA gear has taken me by surprise, too. At the National Archives the day before, I’d noticed a son reading signs to his mother in Spanish, both of them wearing MAGA hats. Navigating the concourse of Capital One Arena, I’d walked behind a woman in a headscarf holding hands with a man in a red hat. The crowd in Washington this weekend is far from the white, male monolith of the popular imagination.
Trump’s speech, which supporters on the National Mall listen to crowded around a street preacher’s speaker, thanks the Black and Hispanic voters who supported him in November. He calls for “hope, prosperity, safety and peace for citizens of every race, religion, color and creed.” But some of the loudest cheers are the ones that follow the first of a slew of promised executive orders: “we will begin the process of returning millions and millions of criminal aliens back to the places from which they came.”
Just as there’s diversity in the crowd, there’s intolerance. A supporter locked in a back and forth argument with a lone protester says “You’re getting deported with the rest of them.” Standing in a line on Sunday afternoon, I hear voices behind me mimicking the accent of a vendor selling Trump beanies. These seemingly contradictory beliefs are on display everywhere we go; a hostility toward outsiders seems to coexist with the embrace of a multiethnic supporter base without friction.
“Threatened isn’t the right word”
Grant Salgaller is one of just a handful of dissenters stationed among the crowds of supporters. He stands at the edge of the crowd that’s gathered at the Capitol barricades holding two signs. The first reads “You can’t be tough on crime and vote for a felon.” The other reads, “Protect trans kids.” When I first come across him, he’s explaining his signs to a small group.
The Saturday before the inauguration, before I arrived in Washington, demonstrators took to the streets of Washington, D.C. in a “People’s March” organized by various progressive organizations. Their numbers were estimated at around 50,000 — impressive, but a far cry from the 500,000 person crowd that turned out in 2017 the day after Trump’s first inauguration.
By the time Inauguration Day itself arrives, those protesting are few and far between. There are people with signs here and there, and a few Palestinian flags wave just outside the crowd on the National Mall.
My dad has a question for Salgaller: have you felt threatened?
He thinks about it. “I’m gonna say, like, threatened isn’t the right word. But have I felt scared? Yeah. I’m aware of the ability for violence, but I’d like to be clear that nobody has been outwardly antagonistic. The worst I’ve gotten is somebody saying, ‘Don’t be a groomer bud,’ and that’s pretty tame on the spectrum of things that could happen.”
“No matter who’s in charge in this country, there’s a fight to be had,” Washington, D.C. local Grant Salgaller says (middle). Photo via Lily Franks/The New Political
His answer resonates with me. The only confrontation I’d faced was from a security guard at Capital One Arena. I’d been zooming in on the stage when the voice came from the row above me: “Are you press?”
My laminated student media credentials didn’t satisfy him. “I better not see that again. Next time you’re getting thrown out.” I’d quickly put my camera away and moved along, only to have him appear nearby again, apparently still suspicious.
“I thought he might be like, ‘f*** the press,’” my dad said later. I worried about the threat of harassment, too. But it never came. Those who I approached willingly answered my questions. Like Grant, I’m aware of the potential — I’d witnessed the woman in the pho restaurant and the man yelling at the protestor. In the crowd at the National Mall, I’d heard someone say, “He’s got a rainbow hat, he’s probably not one of us,” of a man with a megaphone, and I’d wondered whether my own appearance might cause people to make assumptions about my intentions or political leanings. But I have to agree: it’s pretty tame on the spectrum of things that could happen.
By the time I left Washington, it was hard to say whether I understood more about Trump and his supporters than I did before or less. The grandfather from Ohio reaffirmed what I’d come to understand as Trump’s biggest appeal: people like a candidate who shakes things up. People like a candidate who isn’t afraid to say how he really feels. The 23-year-old homeowner, just like so many others, voted with the economy in mind.
Other people I encountered defied the image of the archetypical Trump supporter — the Spanish speaking families, the Los Angeles native.
Everything about the experience is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. A rally the night before Inauguration Day. A soon-to-be president standing on the stage with the Village People. Signing executive orders on a desk in the middle of Capital One Arena.
Ultimately, it brings clarity. It’s surreal; it elicits reactions of shock and even confusion. But it makes perfect sense. This is who he is, this is what his most dedicated supporters love about him. When you’re dealing with Trump, you expect the unexpected.