The decision to move Donald Trump’s inauguration indoors – the limited roof of the Capitol Rotunda in Washington – forced the capacity to be drastically reduced, to deprive tens of thousands of his supporters of the spectacle of his return and to leave out many guests and a good part of the press. It also allowed us to close the focus, and offered an image destined to mark an era: that of the technology magnates Elon Musk (X and Tesla, among others), Mark Zuckerberg (Meta) and Jeff Bezos (Amazon and Washington Post) confused in the seat of American democracy among the faces of the members of the new presidential cabinet.
The print, with the symbolic background of Trumbull’s painting of the surrender of the English in the War of Independence, spoke eloquently of the dawn of a new era in the United States. That of the “common sense revolution,” as Trump defined it in the half-hour speech he gave after taking the oath of office. That of the fusion of American political power and the destiny of the three richest men on the planet – and, by extension, of the magnates of Silicon Valley and their enormous influence on our lives -, according to the rest of us.
Musk, who was decisive during the campaign and has a prominent role in the new Administration, was also the one who claimed the greatest prominence. On Capitol Hill, he gave the victory sign after Trump promised that the United States would travel to Mars, a long-standing aspiration of the magnate. Afterwards, she appeared before the nearly 20,000 lucky supporters of the president who had tickets for the outdoor inauguration and had to settle for following her around the screens on the court while they waited for the great man to give him another good mass bath. Musk told them, before doing something that was reminiscent of the fascist salute: “It is thanks to you that the future of civilization is assured. Isn’t it cool that we’re going to Mars?”
Before that, among the rest of the guests, who had to be divided between the Rotunda and another room, which hosted those of lesser importance (and that included governors of some States), members of the families of Trump and Vance, to institutional personalities – such as the leaders of Congress and members of the Supreme Court – to Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris and to the ghosts of past Administrations: Barack Obama, not Michelle, Bill and Hillary Clinton, and George and Laura Bush. Behind them, they placed Dana White, perhaps the first businessman in the violent sport of mixed martial arts to attend a presidential swearing-in in history, and the billionaire and megadonor Miriam Adelson, who was not the only woman who chose such a historic wear a white outfit and do not take off your sunglasses during the event (with orange lenses, to be precise).
The first lady, Melania Trump, chose blue and for her part gave a new meaning to the technique of kissing from a distance when her husband approached her. He looked at everything with a disinterested air. (blasé, what worldly people and the French would say) and a dress with a tribute to the Cordoban hat included that covered her face and that ended up, compared to the Pizza Hut logo, turned into a meme.
Face of circumstances
Biden and Harris attended the speaker’s words with a look of circumstance, who dedicated a good part of his energy to defending that the last four years have been a real disaster. In his case, that translated into a half smile, perhaps because he was distracted by the thought that he and his wife, Jill, would soon board a plane to the end of his half-century-long political career in Washington. They only stood up to applaud once among the dozens of times the rest of the attendees did so. It was when Trump boasted that the hostages held by Hamas have begun to return from Gaza, a resolution whose merit these days both presidents are disputing.
The musical notes were provided by tenor Christopher Macchio, a second-rate voice on international stages who had become the first voice of Trumpism, who, without a tie and with his shirt open, sang Oh America, before Trump held the microphone, and the American anthem, once it had finished. The singer also performed country Carrie Underwood. The Armed Forces band was scheduled to accompany her, but a technical failure forced them to attack the melody a cappella after an awkward silence.
When the official event ended, Trump moved on to the Emancipation Hall and left behind the statesmanlike image that he had (more or less) managed to convey before. He offered one of his interventions, full of lies and exaggerations, in which he interacted with the public, but above all with the governor of Texas, Greg Abbott. It is its own, inimitable genre, a mixture of stand up comedy and political speech with which he made it clear to the United States and the world that he is back in the White House. And by the way, the joke is going to last another four years.
