By Ashok Nilakantan Ayers
NEW YORK: On the evening of his 80th birthday on June 14, while most men his age would be discussing grandchildren, medications and retirement plans, the most powerful man in the world was watching cage fighters batter one another inside an octagon erected on the South Lawn of the White House.
Fighter jets screamed overhead. The crowd chanted “USA! USA!” Ultimate Fighting Championship boss Dana White stood beside him. Heavyweight boxer Tyson Fury wore a pro-Trump cap. Tech billionaire Mark Zuckerberg mingled among the guests.
And in the centre of the spectacle sat the President of the United States, basking in the glow of a political theatre that looked less like a state occasion and more like an imperial Roman games festival.
Within hours, he would be discussing war, peace and global trade with leaders of the G7. Only Donald Trump could transform an 80th birthday celebration into a combination of a campaign rally, a reality television episode and a geopolitical summit. Only Donald Trump could make it seem normal. That perhaps is his greatest achievement. Or his greatest danger.
Long before he became president, Donald Trump understood something many politicians never do. He was the ordinary boy from the borough Queens in New York , son of a real estate mogul who supported the democrats from New Jersey, who was destined for big things in life and yet would not be acceptable to the elite in New York — the gilded cage.
Politics is not merely about power. It is about attention. Born in Queens in 1946, Trump inherited wealth, ambition and a relentless drive from his father Fred Trump. But inheritance alone does not explain him. New York produced many wealthy real-estate heirs. Only one became Donald Trump.
By the 1980s he had transformed himself into a brand. Not a businessman. A brand. Trump Tower. Trump Airlines. Trump Casinos. Trump Steaks. Trump University. His name became both product and an advertisement.
Success and self-promotion merged into a single enterprise. He was America’s first reality television president long before he entered politics. The nation simply did not realise it yet. He was the man who occupied the headlines of New York’s tabloids for 30 long years before he entered politics to challenge society that did not accept him. The New York’s elite borne out of the Gilded Cage of the 19th century shunned him, shooed him and that created in him a deep sense of hurt, to hit back at them.
That’s how he became what Trump is today — a bully, a street fighter, a no nonsense man full of contradictions, a mystery, an enigma, a puzzle, None can fathom what goes on in his brain under the blonde hair of German lineage. He is very much like Adolf Hitler who took on the world and hated jews because his nanny jew treated him badly and his paintings of creativity were rejected by art galleries.
Trump is a man born out of such similar circumstances when despite being rich was not being admitted into the inner portals of power, fame and exclusivity, despite knocking at the doors for years on end. Even today, though he is the world’s most powerful man, New York’s elite would not admit him inside. That’s the rage that consumes him all the time. Natural, logical, rational, which partly explain his erratic behaviour.
Most presidents seek fame after acquiring power. But in Trump’s case fame preceded power, he was the celebrity of New York , who was the breaking news with his actions in the tabloids for 30 long years and one event at Barack Obama’s home in White House turned his ambitions fiercely to become president , which he did with all his might in 2016 to defeat a woman Ms Hilary Clinton, wife of one of the most popular president in American history. The man who tried to bring equity into a world riddled with inequities and crony capitalism and ultra right wing extremism.
Trump sought power after acquiring fame. The difference is crucial. He entered politics not as a governor, senator or military hero. He arrived as a celebrity. Millions already felt they knew him. Many had watched him fire contestants on television.
Others saw him as the embodiment of capitalist success. Some viewed him as a vulgar showman. Yet nobody ignored him. Trump discovered what modern politics rewards above all else. Visibility.
In the digital age, being discussed is often more valuable than being admired. No politician in modern history has understood this principle better. The man who became the Apprentice on reality TV and the man who conducted the symphony throwing out players out of tune with his music. He taught the world his Art of the Deal.
Trump’s supporters often describe him in language usually reserved for revolutionaries. Some think he is the 13th apostle who arrived upon this earth on god’s bidding to reform the world of all evils and discrimination and restore the supremacy of the whites and that no other race deserved to exist.
They see authenticity where critics see recklessness. They see strength where opponents see bullying. They see patriotism where detractors see nationalism. To many working-class Americans, Trump appeared as the first major politician in decades willing to challenge institutions that they believed had ignored them.
Factories had closed. Jobs had vanished overseas. Borders appeared porous. Cities seemed governed by elites who spoke a different cultural language. Trump entered this environment like a wrecking ball. His supporters did not want refinement.
They wanted disruption. He promised disruption. And unlike conventional politicians, he often delivered exactly what he promised, whether one agreed with it or not. That earned him loyalty bordering on devotion.
Yet the same qualities that inspire admiration provoke alarm. For critics, Trump represents a dangerous concentration of personality, power and grievance. They see a leader who often divides rather than unites. A president who instinctively identifies enemies. A politician who thrives on conflict.
His rhetoric on immigration, race, religion and political opponents has repeatedly ignited controversy. Opponents accuse him of turning groups of Americans against one another. Supporters counter that he merely says openly what others think privately. The argument has become one of the defining fault lines of American life.
Is Trump exposing divisions? Or creating them? After a decade, the nation still cannot agree. Part of Trump’s appeal cannot be understood through economics or policy. It is cultural. He represents what most Americans lack or aspire to have – raw masculinity, doing things without accountability, without fear of any punishment, he believes in his world what he does is right for him, the society and the country.
He projects a version of masculinity that many believe modern society has abandoned. It is loud. Confrontational. Unapologetic. Dominant. His supporters see confidence. His critics see insecurity masquerading as strength. The UFC event on the White House lawn perfectly captured this phenomenon. No recent president would likely have chosen cage fighting as the centrepiece of a birthday celebration. Trump embraced it instinctively. Because the UFC represents a worldview he understands. Competition. Conflict. Winning. Losing. Dominance. Submission.
The octagon is, in many ways, a metaphor for Trump himself. Politics as combat. Opponents as adversaries. Compromise as weakness. Victory as everything. At 80, Trump has become only the second octogenarian president in American history.
Yet age appears almost irrelevant to him. Where Biden was eased out at near 80 for declining cognitive abilities , rather too late, Trump has shown exhibited extraordinary signs of mental fitness though his decisions might reek of rapid cognitive decline as they are founded on no reason or logic or rationale, but some call it sheer business acumen. Every political decision is driven by a business motive, his admirers say. There will never be another like him to occupy the world stage.
Supporters marvel at his stamina. Critics marvel at his refusal to slow down. He continues to campaign, negotiate, travel and dominate news cycles with an energy that would exhaust many people half his age. This presents a paradox. Most leaders mellow with age. Trump appears unchanged.
The same instincts visible in the 1980s remain visible today. The same appetite for combat. The same confidence. The same refusal to apologise. The same belief that attack is the best form of defence. Age has added experience. It has not added restraint.
Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of Trump is not his politics but his mastery of modern media. He is truly the Emperor of Attention Economics, the Badshah of politics worldwide. He is the unrestrained genie let out of Aladdin’s lamp who refuses to obey his master , his conscience, and does what he thinks is best for everyone.
Every outrage becomes oxygen. Every controversy becomes fuel. Every criticism becomes publicity. His opponents often believe they are damaging him. Instead they frequently amplify him.
Trump long ago realised that in a fragmented media environment, attention is the ultimate currency. Whether praised or condemned, he remains the centre of the conversation. This is why scandals that would destroy conventional politicians often fail to destroy him. His supporters interpret attacks as evidence that powerful interests fear him. His critics interpret survival as evidence that democratic norms are weakening. Both sides therefore reinforce his centrality. Trump remains the story.
What truly makes Donald Trump tick? The answer may be surprisingly simple. Competition. Everything becomes a competition. Business. Politics. Media. Foreign policy. Personal relationships.
Trump appears to view life as a permanent contest. There are winners. There are losers. There are allies. There are enemies. The middle ground often disappears. This explains both his successes and failures. It explains his remarkable resilience. It explains his extraordinary polarisation. And it explains why he remains fascinating even to those who dislike him.
How will history judge Donald Trump? Nobody knows. The answer remains trapped inside the future. His admirers believe he saved America from decline. His critics believe he accelerated its divisions. His supporters see a patriot. His detractors see a demagogue. His followers see courage. His opponents see recklessness.
Perhaps history will eventually conclude that he was both. Great political figures are rarely simple. The qualities that elevate them often contain the seeds of their flaws.
As darkness fell over Washington and the octagon lights illuminated the White House grounds, Donald Trump looked less like an ageing statesman than a political streetfighter who had somehow wandered into history and refused to leave.
Most eighty-year-olds spend their birthdays reflecting upon the past. Trump appears interested only in the next contest. The next rally. The next deal. The next enemy. The next headline.
Love him or loathe him, he remains one of the most consequential and disruptive political figures of the modern age. At eighty, he has accumulated wealth, fame, power, admiration, ridicule and infamy in equal measure. He has outlived rivals, survived scandals, weathered impeachments, lawsuits, assassination attempts and political obituaries that proved premature.
And still he stands at the centre of the world’s attention. The question is no longer whether Donald Trump will change. Eight decades suggest he will not. The question is whether America—and much of the world—can ever stop reacting to him.
Because long after the birthday celebrations end, long after the fighter jets disappear into the night sky, and long after the crowds stop chanting his name, the central fact remains unchanged: Donald Trump is not merely a politician. He is a phenomenon. And at eighty, the phenomenon shows little sign of fading. (IPA Service)
