The Article about the Humiliation of Trump, a Ballroom, Protests and the Fear of the Media

Good morning Germany, we have given everything to deliver comprehensive reporting for the German-speaking world for an eventful August 2 - without forgetting Mrs. Weidel and the lips of Karoline. After 2 x 48 hours in a row with 3–5 hours of sleep each, we now have to sleep. Now we too will fall asleep for a few hours - knowing that history keeps moving and we have to do our planning, because there are different places in this world waiting, from Ukraine to Epstein. Our bags are full of work and maybe we are making a small contribution to a better world, because the world of today does not have to be the world of tomorrow. And the most important thing: everyone here on the team is an incredible person, who would give their last shirt and bring in all their skills - and; I have a wonderful wife, the greatest happiness in this world; for that I say thank you every morning.

But before we say goodbye, it should be noted: August 2, 2025 will go down in the chronicles of American democracy as a day of open rage, humiliation, and determined protest against presidential self-staging. These are rare, almost historic moments in which a country articulates its change in mood so unfiltered and loudly as on that evening in the sold-out stadium of Summer Slam. Even before President Donald Trump had even reached his seat, the arena was already bubbling - just at the mere arrival of the president, the crowd boiled over, booed, whistled, raged with an intensity you only know from the hottest Nationals games in Washington. But this time, it was not a home team being mercilessly booed, but the most powerful man in the United States - and the power over the emotions of the masses turned into the exact opposite that night.

Trump himself further fueled the confrontation - as a form of self-staging, images were shown where Donald Trump announced that his chosen fighter for Summer Slam was Triple H, while President Lula had not yet announced who he would send into the race. But the audience reacted with unrestrained anger and almost lost their minds with rage. What was probably intended as a demonstration of unbroken strength became, in a fraction of a second, unmistakable humiliation - boos turned into chants of abuse, rejection into sheer contempt. Anyone who thought the wrestling community was a reservoir of loyal, conservative Trump supporters was taught better that evening. Here, among working-class families, middle-class kids, veterans, and millennials, the exhaustion of a country that has simply grown tired after years of scandals, constant excitement, and division erupted. Even the commentators, usually masters at turning every reaction into entertainment, for a moment seemed perplexed and shocked by the unmistakable clarity of this rejection.

But the evening reached its climax only when President Trump, visibly struggling to maintain his composure, left the stadium before the end of the event. His departure, presumably planned as a discreet retreat, turned into a public flight within seconds. Everywhere he showed up, he was showered with unrestrained insults - words so sharp and contemptuous that even seasoned observers of the American scene briefly paused. His security team doubled instantly, bodyguards formed a corridor against the unleashed disapproval of the crowd. And so Trump, surrounded by a double phalanx of security, made his way out of the arena - pursued by a crescendo of boos, ridicule, and pure rejection.

These images burned themselves deeply into the collective memory - not a triumphant showman basking in the spotlight, but a president in retreat, driven by the force of rejection that no spin doctor can moderate away anymore. In that moment, Trump was not the sovereign protagonist, but a symbol of the exhaustion of an audience that no longer wants to be the extra in a political staging.

At the same time, it became clear on this day how thin the varnish of power has become. While tens of thousands took to the streets across the US in the "Rage Against the Regime" protests to vent their frustration, the next provocation was brewing inside the White House: Trump's plan for a 200-million-dollar ballroom, financed by donations from himself and his sponsors, was met with a broad reaction ranging from bewilderment to sheer ridicule. While citizens outside protest against cuts, deportations, and political restructuring, a president inside cements his own legacy - with golden handwriting, marble columns, and an ostentation that resembles more a courtier than a servant of democracy.

That the media are increasingly intimidated is evident not only in the selection of questions, but also in the almost anxious restraint of many editorial offices, which rarely seek open confrontation in their reporting anymore. Anyone who nevertheless dares to ask the president or his loyalists critical questions is often publicly defamed - or is simply denied access to important events. The atmosphere in Washington now resembles less the open climate of discourse of past decades, but more a system of threats, declarations of loyalty, and the fear of the next verbal execution on the open stage.

It is these two worlds that define August 2, 2025: On the one hand, an angry, alert, combative civil society that loudly opposes the president's policies in hundreds of cities from Los Angeles to Boston - on the other, a White House that tries to block out the reality outside in the splendor of a planned ballroom, while the president has to be booed out and escorted from the stadium by the crowd. The image of an apparatus of power that boasts and shines while protest is boiling outside is perhaps the clearest symbol of the dividing line that runs through this America in the summer of 2025.

We will continue on our path, bringing the facts to the world openly - no matter what storm has hit us in the face, no matter what reprisals we have already faced. We live under martial law as far as democracies in the world are concerned. It is worth fighting for. A very good friend once said to me: "So we were sent up a mountain. What did they think would come back down from the mountain?" In this sense, we wish you a happy Sunday.

Investigative journalism requires courage, conviction – and your support.