The Places and Spaces of Donald Trump

It's not enough to support him; you have to be there.

Photo by Paul Sableman

Uniforms create a sense of connection, belonging, and devotion to a common cause: You and I are wearing the same thing as we gather together, so we are different from everyone else, united in purpose and bound to one another. Anyone who has put on the uniform of a military or sports team has felt it. And so have these guys:

Any of these sartorially innovative gentlemen— North Dakota Gov. Doug Burgum, Florida Reps. Byron Donalds and Cory Mills, and Vivek Ramaswamy — would leap at the chance to be Donald Trump’s running mate, which is one reason why they showed up to the Manhattan courtroom where Trump is on trial wearing Trump’s own uniform of navy blue suit and red tie. A parade of Republicans has also made the trek to New York, including VP prospects J.D. Vance and Tim Scott, pigskin-addled halfwit Tommy Tuberville, local failson Andrew Giuliani, and Speaker of the House Mike Johnson, whose official duties were apparently not demanding enough to prevent a trip north to stand outside the courtroom and demonstrate fealty to his leader. 

That might have been bred of an understanding of news media dynamics: You’re more likely to get on the air if you’re in the place where all the cameras are and your comments can be easily inserted into stories the media are going to be publishing anyway. But there’s also something else going on: Among Trump’s most devoted followers, an extraordinary amount of value is put on being in his presence, or near his presence, or in places that have an association with him. Trumpism is uniquely tied to places and spaces. 

Make your pilgrimage, supplicants

That’s partly because as both a developer and a narcissist, Trump has left lots of buildings with his name slapped on the side; if you want to feel his essence surrounding you, there are a number of options. While he was president, his Washington hotel became the go-to hangout not only for foreign interests looking to put some money in his pocket, but for every MAGA Republican in town. They may have been looking to make connections with other right-wing pols and operatives, but it was also a way of being connected to Trump himself, to bask in his aura from within his walls. 

If traveling the few blocks from the White House seemed too easy, those looking to demonstrate their adoration could head four hours north to New York, as Rep. Nancy Mace did in 2022 when Trump endorsed her primary opponent. She high-tailed it to Manhattan the next day so she could record a video standing in front of Trump Tower touting her commitment to the former president despite his humiliation of her. It wasn’t enough to just say it; she had to be physically present at the place where Trump used to rest his head, to say: Look, here I am, standing beside him, sort of. 

Then there’s Mar-a-Lago, where every Republican whose obedience had been questioned must make their pilgrimage. Some go there even when not invited for a meeting, so they can snap selfies and tell the folks back home that they were there in that Trumpiest of locales.

And of course, you have Trump’s rallies, which have always had the flavor of Grateful Dead concerts: a fanatical fan base adorned in clothing signaling belonging to the group, telling each other proudly how many shows they’ve been to. 

No matter how far you are from the stage, your corporeal presence in his space testifies to the degree to which he defines your own identity. Just like a concert or sporting event, it’s a communal experience shared with others who feel the same things you feel, both about your favorite musician or athlete and in the moment itself. It’s being there, in the same building as the object of your fandom, even if you have to squint to see their tiny form from a quarter-mile away. That’s really him down there, and you’re there with him. 

There have been other candidates and presidents who could put on a good rally — Barack Obama’s were quite something — but none who created this unflagging need from both elite and rank-and-file devotees to find and trek to places where they can be in the presence of their king, or even be in a place where he once was. Most Trump voters will never make it to a rally, let alone one of his properties, but where you bring your body is what separates the mere supporter from the true cultist. As for the politicians, they know that bringing themselves to his spaces is what he wants from them, and they’ll line up to deliver. Blue suits and red ties are not required, but recommended.