Trump’s Norfolk Stagecraft: A Performance of Power Amid Crisis

In Norfolk, Virginia, a scene played out that encapsulated the essence of President Trump’s governing style: a spectacle that hides dysfunction behind flags, uniforms, and empty promises. There, in front of a crowd of sailors marking the 250th anniversary of the U.S. Navy, Trump stood as the self-proclaimed savior of a military he had let down. The U.S. government was in the midst of a shutdown, and the paychecks of the very sailors in front of him were at risk. Yet, in that moment, Trump offered a reassuring smile, a wave, and a promise: their paychecks would be safe.

The only problem? It wasn’t true. The Department of Defense had already notified those sailors that unless Congress acted, pay would stop after September 30. But Trump, as the commander-in-chief, stood before them, promising the impossible while deftly deflecting blame. His message was clear: the government shutdown wasn’t his fault. No, the Democrats were to blame. In this performance, Trump used the military as a prop, pushing his narrative that chaos and dysfunction were part of a deliberate strategy to project strength.

Theatrics Over Governance

What we saw in Norfolk wasn’t just about the Navy’s birthday. It was another spectacle, a display of stagecraft that has come to define Trump’s presidency. He capitalized on a military backdrop — a symbol of national strength — to cover up a major government failure. Behind the flags, the parades, and the well-rehearsed speech, Trump’s true aim was clear: the show must go on. Even as the government shut down, he needed to project control, not through competent governance but through grand performances. This was not a commander-in-chief rallying the troops for a cause, but a politician turning a military base into a stage for his own re-election bid.

Trump’s approach follows a familiar script. When a crisis looms — whether it’s a government shutdown, a market crash, or a foreign policy misstep — Trump’s response has often been to surround himself with symbols of power and authority. This time, it was the Navy. By standing before sailors, he essentially used their service and dedication as backdrops for a performance that obscured the reality of his failed leadership. Norfolk, a major U.S. military installation, was repurposed as a set for a political play — one in which the national government, the very thing that supports the military, is held hostage for Trump’s advantage.

The Weaponization of Crisis

The shutdown itself wasn’t just an accident of governance. Under Trump, it’s become a deliberate political tool, a way to remind everyone — federal workers, military families, the country — that their livelihoods are conditional on his approval. It’s a show of power, and in this case, a chance to cast himself as the hero in a fabricated drama. The facts tell a different story: the House passed a bipartisan bill to protect military pay, but Mitch McConnell’s Senate has refused to act. Yet, Trump doesn’t mention this. Instead, he spins a tale where Democrats are the villains blocking his heroism, perpetuating a false drama that fuels his narrative of chaos and division.

Trump thrives on crisis, using it as leverage. Whether it’s defunding government services or withholding federal workers’ pay, he uses the situation to frame himself as the lone savior, fighting the good fight against his political adversaries. This “us vs. them” mentality extends far beyond government shutdowns. It’s a pattern that repeats itself whenever Trump is cornered: create a problem, then step in as the only one who can fix it.

The Militarization of Politics

This moment in Norfolk was more than just about political theater. It was an unsettling glimpse into how Trump uses the military as a political instrument. With the government at a standstill, Trump’s rhetoric about sending troops to American cities became another tool in his campaign. The optics were clear: uniforms and military presence became symbols of Trump’s self-proclaimed strength, disguising the weakness of his actual leadership. And in doing so, the military, which is sworn to defend the Constitution, became a backdrop for a political agenda — not a force for national defense, but for domestic control.

The Dangerous Normalization of Authoritarianism

What makes these moments in Norfolk so chilling is how normalized they’ve become. When a sitting president uses military personnel as campaign props, it starts to look like business as usual. But we should ask ourselves: How far will we allow this to go? Trump’s manipulation of the military’s imagery and his continued portrayal of the Democrats as enemies of the people are dangerous precedents. His rhetoric — dividing the country into heroes and villains — is a classic tactic to consolidate power. The more he does it, the more it risks becoming routine.

And that’s the real danger. If we continue to ignore the erosion of democratic norms, every performance of power becomes a little less shocking, a little more accepted. Every speech that turns a military celebration into a political rally chips away at the integrity of the institution. Every time Trump uses a shutdown to fuel his political agenda, he turns a national crisis into a personal campaign message.

Conclusion: A Test of America’s Resilience

The shutdown in Norfolk wasn’t just about military pay or political posturing. It was a test — a test of how far Trump could go before the public would push back, a test of how much he could weaponize the very symbols of American power and use them for his political gain. The question is whether we’ll allow this performance of strength to replace true democratic governance. The Navy’s birthday celebration was supposed to honor our service members, but instead, it became a reminder that Trump has learned to manipulate patriotism to further his political ambitions.

As Americans, we now face the critical task of deciding whether we will accept these spectacles as the new normal. Because if we don’t push back, if we don’t recognize these authoritarian tactics for what they are, we risk losing the very essence of what these symbols — the Navy, the Constitution, the Presidency — stand for.

The time to act is now.