By the time the next presidential inauguration arrives on January 20, 2029, there may be little left in the United States untouched by the president’s relentless campaign of self-branding. From cultural institutions to military hardware, Donald Trump has stamped his name across the nation, transforming America into what critics now call Trump America.
On Monday, the president unveiled a new generation of battleships bristling with missiles, nuclear weapons, and laser systems. Inevitably, they will be christened the Trump Class, extending his spree of naming things after himself. Naval officials hailed the vessels as “the future of maritime dominance,” while detractors saw them as floating monuments to ego.
Traditionally, presidents have shown restraint when it comes to naming. It is not normal for commanders-in-chief to emblazon their own names on institutions or warships. They usually wait for history’s judgment and for a grateful nation to honor their service. Aircraft carriers named after John F. Kennedy and Gerald R. Ford were laid down years after their deaths. Earlier this year, President Joe Biden announced that future carriers would be named for Bill Clinton and George W. Bush — a decision that reflects the Navy’s long history of honoring its own, rather than indulging in self-promotion.
Trump’s approach has been markedly different. Last week, his handpicked board of the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts voted to add his name alongside that of John F. Kennedy. Trump, feigning surprise, insisted he was “honored” by the gesture, though insiders noted he had been hinting at the honor for weeks.
Not long before, the president appeared at the newly christened Donald J. Trump Institute for Peace. Once an independent, federally funded agency, the institution had been gutted under his administration. Its transformation into a Potemkin-style think tank bearing his name underscored the extent of his rebranding campaign.
The branding blitz is not confined to government agencies. Next year, Americans will be able to buy pharmaceuticals from TrumpRx. Parents will be encouraged to open “Trump Accounts” for newborns, while wealthy foreigners can secure residency through Trump Gold Card visas. Even the White House itself is not immune: construction has begun on a new ballroom, which insiders predict will inevitably bear his name.
The Trump Class ships are projected to join the so-called Golden Fleet, a maritime counterpart to the Golden Dome anti-missile shield Trump envisions. Together, they form the backbone of what he calls America’s “Golden Age,” a period he claims will be defined by prosperity, strength, and his personal legacy.
Supporters argue that Trump’s branding reflects his commitment to leaving a lasting mark on history. “He’s building monuments to American greatness,” one ally said. Critics, however, see it as a dangerous conflation of personal vanity with national identity. “This is not about America,” one opponent remarked. “It’s about Trump America.”
The cultural implications are profound. Institutions once seen as national treasures are being reshaped into extensions of a single man’s persona. The Kennedy Center, the Institute for Peace, and even the nation’s military are now branded in ways that blur the line between public service and personal empire.
International observers have reacted with a mix of bewilderment and alarm. Allies worry that the rebranding undermines America’s credibility, while adversaries see it as a sign of creeping authoritarianism. Analysts warn that the symbolism of Trump America may carry as much weight as its military might.
For ordinary citizens, the transformation is both surreal and unavoidable. From the pharmacy to the passport office, from the concert hall to the battlefield, Trump’s name looms large. Whether celebrated or condemned, the branding campaign has ensured that his legacy will be etched into the fabric of daily life.
In the end, the rise of Trump America is less about policy than about identity. It is a nation reimagined as a brand, a republic recast as a personal empire. The battleships, the institutions, the visas, and the ballrooms all tell the same story: in this new age, America itself has become the ultimate Trump property.
