Few things are more bewitching to the US president than gold-adorned dance halls and military bunkers. But will the people’s response to his latest projects fulfil his craving for everlasting power?
Donald Trump has said that the most beautiful word in the English language is “tariff”. But recent evidence suggests there is another noun with a more lyrical quality that might have supplanted it in his affections: “ballroom”. Barely a speech goes by without the president musing about the wonders of the vast construction project rumbling on where the East Wing of the White House used to stand. He has even described the constant noise in his backyard as “music to my ears”. A $400m (€344m) vanity build is not, however, music to the ears of many Americans in a country grappling with a cost-of-living crisis and an interminable war overseas.
It’s no surprise that Trump loves a construction project: he did make his fortune in real estate. On Monday the Supreme Court ruled that the ballroom construction could continue, overturning an earlier federal appeals court ruling that ordered building work to stop because it did not have congressional approval.
But his overwhelming obsession with a building that most Americans couldn’t care less about is befuddling Republicans who are battling to keep or win seats in the November midterm elections. The Pew Research Center asked voters which issue they would like to hear midterm candidates talk about the most: the economy came out on top, with 29 per cent of respondents listing it as their top concern, and the cost of living came second at 15 per cent. The word “ballroom” did not make the list.
The Politifact fact-checking website has crunched the numbers and found that Trump has mentioned his various Washington construction projects at 84 public events since January. He has devoted nearly 45,000 words to projects such as the ballroom, the Reflecting Pool and the Arch de Trump, compared to 41,655 words on foreign policy and just 39,744 on the economy. Only Iran got more air play, with almost 56,000 of his words dedicated to the war in the Middle East.
The motivation behind the 8,360 sq m behemoth that will dwarf the White House keeps changing. Trump has long been obsessed with building a ballroom, in the same vein as his gold- and chandelier-bedecked hall in Mar-a-Lago. Early in the planning phases, Trump claimed that the White House needed a larger venue for hosting foreign dignitaries and events. After a foiled attack on the president at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner in April, he then said it was a security necessity. And now, designed for both cocktails and bunkers, he has taken to calling it “the greatest military-complex-slash-ballroom anywhere in the world”.
While the exact details of what is being built on the site are classified, Trump has said that the ballroom will go six storeys deep, complete with bomb shelters and medical facilities. The roof will be drone-proof, with measures to protect against missiles and biohazards, though little of this has convinced the electorate. In July, a poll from The Washington Post and Ipsos found that 65 per cent of respondents were dissatisfied with the ballroom and the other prominent vanity projects.
Trump’s approval plummeted to a record low of about 33 per cent in August and, with no end in sight for the Iran War, it makes sense that the commander-in-chief is looking for distractions. As the conflict drags on and pulls the US economy down with it, Trump is desperate for things he can control – and what can be more comforting to a luxury real estate magnate than bricks and mortar and marble and gold? Then there’s his legacy. Barring any attempt at a third term, Trump has some two years left in office and, with his domestic and foreign policy legacy looking precarious, he wants to make sure that a physical reminder of his presidency will stand long after he has departed.
On Wednesday evening, Trump finally reassured Republicans that he would get on the campaign trail and speak in key battleground seats ahead of the midterms. They’ll just be hoping that he manages to stick to the script and doesn’t drop too many b-words.
Charlotte McDonald-Gibson is a Washington-based journalist and regular Monocle contributor. For more from her, click here.
