Inauguration Day in Washington, D.C. dawned white, windy, and bitter cold as the city braced for a winter storm and the return of Donald J. Trump. The optimism was palpable; the day felt like a collective catharsis. There were big-bearded men in full camo; Uncle Sam costumes; countless Trump shirts and MAGA hats. One featured Trump in front of the White House: “Daddy’s Home!” The cheery idolatry was very gauche, somewhat disturbing, and slightly infectious. Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA” blasted across the crowd. Pro-life activists with the Ohio-based group Created Equal were out with signs featuring abortion victims; the crowd was friendly. “We’re with you!” one of the red hats called from the crowd. The lineup swarmed with press, and for once, MAGA was eager to talk to them.
One teenager wore a garbage bag with a sign reading “Trash for Trump,” a jab at President Biden calling Trump voters “garbage.” Others wore hoodies featuring the blood-red 2024 election map: “Trump: Better Coverage than Verizon.” Buskers did a brisk trade selling every imaginable form of MAGA swag: commemorative kitsch, shirts reading “Jesus is My Savior, Trump is My President”; posters and flags of Trump’s famous post-assassination fist pump; hand-painted portraits of Trump riding an elephant to the White House; even shiny chains with golden Trump heads. The 2024 election was the Revenge of the Normies, and they arrived in droves for souvenirs.
The inauguration was moved inside the Capitol due to freezing temperatures, meaning that the 220,000 issued inauguration invites—including mine—were reduced to fancy souvenirs. Watch parties were set up across the city to accommodate the massive influx of MAGA voters flocking into the city, where hotel rates soared to hundreds of dollars per night. (The last indoor inauguration was Ronald Reagan’s second in 1985, when temperatures dropped to -14 degrees Celsius.) Early Monday morning, the lines to get into the CapitalOne Arena stretched for over two miles as people tried to get spots for the rally scheduled to replace the cancelled Inaugural Parade. Despite the cold, the crowd was jubilant.
We headed to the Hard Rock Café next to the Ford Theatre to watch the ceremony. The restaurant was packed, with half a dozen screens livestreaming the events. Inside the Rotunda, the Republicans beamed and the Democrats sulked. The Clintons, Bushes, and Barack Obama were in attendance alongside former vice-presidents Mike Pence and Dan Quayle; behind them sat Javier Milei, the wild-eyed libertarian president of Argentina, who flew in to celebrate the victory of a fellow populist outsider. Tucker Carlson was near the front with his wife Susie, smiling hugely. As the cameras switched to those filing in, the crowd alternated between boos and cheers.
CBS briefly interrupted the running commentary on the arriving guests to announce that with 19 minutes left in his presidency, Joe Biden granted unprecedented “pre-emptive pardons” to much of his family, including his brothers James and Francis, their wives, and his sister Valerie. The pardon was backdated to the oddly specific date of January 1, 2014. Biden had already handed out blanket pardons to his son Hunter, Anthony Fauci, the entire January 6 Committee, and General Mark Milley. Biden’s final days in office have been an orgy of norm violation, including a farcical “declaration” that the Equal Rights Amendment, defeated decades ago, is “the law of the land” in a bizarre attempt to amend the U.S. Constitution by verbal fiat.
Biden and Kamala Harris appeared onscreen to an eruption of heckling. “At least Joe doesn’t know where he is!” bellowed one fellow to a roar of laughter. Barron Trump towered over Melania, who sported a blue navy coat with a brimmed hat and resembled a feline Mary Poppins. Most amusing were the chastised oligarchs: Apple’s Tim Cook, Google’s Sundar Pichai, Amazon’s Jeff Bezos, TikTok’s Shou Zi Chew, and Meta’s Mark Zuckerberg, whose latest avatar is that of free speech champion. The flame of power has moved, and the moths have followed. They once used their vast tech empires to prop up the progressive Left; now, they beamed at Donald Trump like defeated tribal chieftains greeting an American Caesar. Time will tell who changes whom.
Cardinal Timothy Dolan of New York offered the first invocation. “Be still and know that I am God,” he began. “Remembering General George Washington on his knees at Valley Forge, recalling Abraham Lincoln at his second inaugural, ‘with malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right,’ remembering General George Patton’s instructions to his soldiers as they began the Battle of the Bulge eight decades ago: ‘Pray! Pray when fighting. Pray alone. Pray with others. Pray by night. Pray by day.’” Rev. Franklin Graham began by turning to Trump: “Mr. President, the last four years there were times I’m sure you thought it was pretty dark, but look what God has done!”
Kamala Harris visibly grimaced. It reminded me of a moment on the campaign trail, when someone called out “Jesus is Lord!” at one of her events. Without missing a beat, Harris shot back: “Oh, you guys are at the wrong rally!” This time, however, there was no mistaking it: She was at the right inauguration.
The most poignant moment was when JD Vance stepped forward to be sworn in by Justice Brett Kavanaugh. He was joined by his wife Usha, looking beautiful in pink cashmere, and her expression radiated pride and adoration. His three young children were ushered in to witness the moment, and the 40-year-old Millennial dad took the oath as his two small sons stood beside him and his little girl sucked her thumb. Vance’s story is pure America: from his dysfunctional hillbilly upbringing to the vice-presidency of the United States. I met him less than five years ago at a conference, where he was discussing his memoir. He was beardless, brilliant and hadn’t yet declared his senate run. Now, he’s a heartbeat (or four years) from the presidency.
Donald J. Trump’s swearing in completed a political comeback of truly historic proportions. Every institution tried to stop him—and yet he is back. “The golden age of America begins right now,” he began. “From this day forward, our country will flourish and be respected again all over the world. We will be the envy of every nation. And we will not allow ourselves to be taken advantage of any longer.” As Biden and Harris looked grimly on, Trump swore that “vicious, violent and unfair weaponization of the Justice Department and our government will end.” Then, he addressed the gathered elites to their faces:
As we gather today, our government confronts a crisis of trust. For many years, the radical and corrupt establishment has extracted power and wealth from our citizens. While the pillars of our society lay broken and seemingly in complete disrepair, we now have a government that cannot manage even a simple crisis at home while at the same time stumbling into a continuing catalog of catastrophic events abroad.
Half the room rose in raucous applause; the crowd at the café followed suit. The cheers continued as Trump said he would declare the border crisis a national emergency and start deportations; that a task force would begin work to drive down inflation; that the Green New Deal would be abolished; that he wanted to take back the Panama Canal. The loudest applause came when Trump claimed a divine calling: “Just a few months ago, in a beautiful Pennsylvania field, an assassin’s bullet ripped through my ear. But I felt then, and believe even more so now, that my life was saved for a reason. I was saved by God to make America great again.”
Harris seemed to have swallowed a lemon whole. Her husband, girlboss feminist Doug Emhoff, looked like he’d happily lean in front of a bullet. Trump, to his credit, did amend this slightly later in his speech, noting: “We will not forget our country. We will not forget our Constitution. And we will not forget our God.” Cynics will call it lip service, and fair enough. But as Franklin Graham stated: “We know that America can never be great again if we turn our backs on [God].” Amen to that.
In a moment that perfectly showcased the absurdity of the progressive elites and of our times, Trump made a declaration that all but the last two presidents would have considered ludicrously obvious. “From today forward, it will be the policy of the United States to recognize that there are only two genders: male and female,” he said. There was a standing ovation; the Democrats, again, remained rooted to their seats. The crowd at the CapitalOne Arena went wild. Outside, I saw protestors hoisting “Trans Rights are Human Rights!” signs; for the first time in four years, they are out in the cold. Biden gave them everything. Trump rolled it all back with a single executive order recognizing only two sexes less than an hour after returning to the White House that evening.
The Democrats insist that they are the defender of “norms,” but they have spent two administrations making war on fundamental biological realities. It is ridiculous that Donald Trump had to affirm that there are only two sexes. But it was the Democrats, not Trump, who made it necessary. This is a welcome return to sanity.
After the ceremony, the Trumps bid farewell to the Bidens outside the Capitol. Joe and Jill boarded the helicopter, and I watched Marine One growl past the window. People stopped in the streets to gaze upwards and cheered as the helicopter bore the Bidens out of Washington and public life. Biden was elected to the Senate 53 years ago at age 29; he departs at age 82 in a flurry of scummy pardons and plagued by media reports of his failing faculties. Trump joined the crowd of 20,000 at the arena, gave one of his signature rambling, trash-talking speeches, and then signed a stack of executive orders, beginning with an omnibus repeal of 78 Biden executive orders and an order prohibiting government censorship and protecting freedom of speech.
I headed through a roadblock to Pennsylvania Avenue and watched Trump’s motorcade drive to the White House as the streets, already clogged with Humvees and soldiers, began to fill up with men and women in tuxedos and fancy dresses heading to the Inaugural balls. Across Washington, a massive federal bureaucracy awaits the Trump revolution, which he has vowed to deliver with speed and none of the chaos that characterized his first term. He is prepared to dominate a government filled with people who actively attempted to sabotage him with a sweeping mandate, a young, ambitious vice-president, and an organized army at his back. It is a new era in America. You can feel it in this city—in both the jubilation of the MAGA crowds and the foreboding that permeates the federal buildings of concrete and marble squatting in the snow.
