Trump Wants a Cage Match on the South Lawn. Even the Moths Object.
The South Lawn has hosted state dinners and moments of national mourning. On June 14, Trump wants it to host a cage fight—and even the publicity-hungry celebrity class is staying home.
By David Shuster
The White House South Lawn has hosted state dinners, Easter egg rolls, military ceremonies, diplomatic receptions, and moments of national mourning. It has served as a backdrop for presidents addressing the nation during wars, economic crises, and historic achievements.
Now, if Donald Trump gets his way, it will host a UFC cage match.
The plan bears the unmistakable Trump stamp, a charlatan who decided long ago that modern politics is not the art of government but the manufacture of spectacle. Whereas earlier presidents sought to impress the citizenry with inspiring speech, intelligence, and moral purpose, Trump has always preferred the methods of a demented carnival barker. The crowd must be amused. The crowd must be astonished. The crowd must never be permitted to reflect, think for themselves, or embrace reality.
The UFC event, scheduled for June 14, is the logical destination for Trump’s crass and toxic political culture and for an approach that always prioritizes shallow spectatorship. The White House, also known as the executive residence, will become a national amusement pavilion, complete with combatants battering one another for the entertainment of the multitudes gathered on the South Lawn, watching giant screens at the nearby ellipse or viewing on television. There will be a few MAGA celebrity guests, lots of television cameras, an Octagon fighting ring, and a 92 foot-tall, 600 ton temporary steel structure known as ‘the claw.’
It is part of the arena structure and serves as the lighting and broadcast engineering canopy.
The UFC spectacle, with all of its various Trump White House components, has a certain grotesque symmetry. Why should a Trump government conducted as entertainment not feature an actual cage match? Why preserve even the faintest pretense that public affairs are distinct from show business? The distinction has been fading for a decade. Trump is now simply finishing the job with the assistance of UFC CEO Dana White.
There are, however, some potential challenges for Trump and his UFC sycophants. Lawyers have descended upon the scheme with the enthusiasm of RFK junior approaching a roadside animal carcass.
A federal lawsuit is asking a court to rule that the people’s house, without a formal act of Congress, can not lawfully be transformed into a for profit gladiatorial venue.
The prospect of federal judges spending their working hours pondering the constitutional dimensions of a cage match on the White House grounds is a commentary on this Trump era.
Another challenge involves mother nature.
Washington, D.C. in June is a city perpetually threatened by atmospheric insurrection. Thunderheads gather with alarming speed. Lightning flashes across the sky. Rain descends in torrents. Any resident of the capital knows that outdoor plans during the month are often written with an “indoor plan B.”
For more than a decade, I lived in Georgetown, about a 10 minute walk northwest of the White House. During the course of my life and career in D.C., I lost track of the number of back patio gatherings I hosted or attended that suddenly required a mass stampede inside.
So, it is very possible that the grand White House extravaganza, after months of promotion, oceans of publicity, and a $60 million dollar production cost for the UFC, will find itself at the mercy of a thunderstorm. There would be something almost poetic in such an outcome.
Imagine the scene. Thousands assembled. Television cameras poised. The UFC combatants prepared to commence their ritual mayhem with Donald Trump watching ringside.
Then a distant rumble. A flash of lightning. A hurried announcement from officials advising everyone to seek shelter.
At that moment the oldest force in American life would reassert itself. Not democracy. Not constitutional government. Not public virtue. Weather.
(The latest forecast predicts zero precipitation on June 14, with a high temperature of 90 degrees Fahrenheit. So the Trumpsters may escape any challenges with rain and storms.
Trump, his supporters, and the UFC fighters may not escape the storm of problems that come with bugs, gnats, and moths.
UFC CEO Dana White says he attended a White House rose garden dinner recently and was shocked by the number of flying insects.
And the swarms will only intensify thanks to the massive television lights.
Several UFC athletes, uncomfortable with the politics and the outdoor conditions, have already said “no thanks.”
Several celebrities have also responded to the Trump and UFC invitation with a “no thanks.” The irony is remarkable. Modern celebrity culture in America is built on the pursuit of relentless attention. These are people who routinely attend product launches, influencer conventions, awards ceremonies of questionable necessity, and parties whose sole purpose is to commemorate the existence of other parties.
Yet countless stars in the sports world and entertainment industries (including TV, movies, and music) have considered the prospect of a White House UFC cage fight and concluded that they would prefer not to be photographed anywhere near it.
This is no ordinary social rebuff. It is a watershed moment. To be shunned by celebrities requires effort. To be shunned by dozens of them simultaneously suggests a level of vulgarity so concentrated that even professional publicity-seekers find it overpowering.
The truly comic element is that Trump has spent a lifetime cultivating celebrity approval, celebrity proximity, and celebrity glamour. Yet here, at the very moment he seeks to transform the presidential mansion into the world’s most expensive combat sports backdrop, and part of the nation’s 250th birthday celebrations, even many members of the notoriously attention-hungry celebrity tribe are refusing to participate.
When actors, influencers, reality stars, and assorted professional exhibitionists begin looking around and muttering, “This seems a bit tacky,” the situation has clearly gone beyond ordinary bad taste.
To be clear, the issue is not whether UFC athletes deserve respect.
Many are remarkable competitors. And their mixed martial arts sport is clearly popular and enjoyed by millions of Americans.
The issue is whether the grounds of the executive mansion should be a stage for televised combat spectacle, designed to generate ratings, social media buzz, and political theater.
The White House should remain a place where Americans encounter the dignity of self-government, not a crass and unprofessional commercial sports venue that only serves the vanity of Donald Trump.
If karma is alive, the swarms of moths and other annoying flying insects will be there too.
Cliff’s Note: Trump wants to put a cage match on the South Lawn of the people’s house. We want to put 3,000 paying members behind the journalism that calls it what it is.
So today we’re kicking off the Drive to 3,000—our push to grow this thing into a newsroom that can punch at full weight, every single day, no permission needed from anyone.
Here’s the deal: the predator class has billionaires, boats, and a White House they’re turning into a circus tent. We have you. That’s the whole arsenal—readers who decide this work is worth paying for.
If you’ve been riding free, now’s the moment. Upgrade, pledge, and put your name on the board. Let’s get to 3,000 before they get to June 14.
I don’t get the allure of a CAGE MATCH at all. It seems so primitive.
The depravity and gall of this administration continues to hit new heights. That guy pointing his finger at Trump looks like he's going to poke the Pillsbury dough boy. The only other thing lacking in that multi bright arch or claw is a slip and slide. This is a playground for a bunch of overgrown toddlers with too much time on their hands.