It has barely been a week since rainbow flags lined the streets of Washington, as World Pride transformed the capital into a celebration of diversity. The streets were colorful, the message clear - equality, visibility, freedom. But now it feels as if someone has drawn the curtain and radically changed the scenery. Celebration turns into marching. Pride becomes parade. And a civic festival becomes a demonstration of power. Because this coming Saturday, the army will march - and with it, the ego of a president who is celebrating himself along the way.
Washington, already the most heavily surveilled capital in the Western world, is gearing up. Eighteen miles of so-called "anti-scale fencing" - a kind of steel insult to any open society - are being erected. Alongside them, 175 magnetometers, a swarm of surveillance drones, and security measures usually reserved for state funerals. But this time, no one is being buried. This time, one man stands at the center who wants to stage the opposite of transience: Donald J. Trump, 79 years old, President of the United States, is celebrating his birthday with tanks, rocket launchers, and patriotic bombast. And the city dances - or rather: marches - to his tune.
Matt McCool of the Secret Service speaks of "hundreds of thousands" expected to attend. Police warn of "major traffic disruptions." And while people in the Emergency Operations Center of Homeland Security pore over coordination plans, others prepare for the opposite: protest, resistance, defiance. The largest counter-event is called the "No Kings Rally." No king - a subtle reminder that this democracy was once born from a spirit of separation from autocratic power.
Trump, however, sees it differently. For him, the 250th birthday of the U.S. Army is not just a patriotic holiday - it is a runway. And what would a runway be without showpieces? That’s why M1 Abrams battle tanks and Paladin howitzers will roll through the city center. 60 tons of steel each. About the same weight as the difference between statesmanship and self-glorification. That this spectacle was originally planned as a modest military celebration was even noted by Deputy Mayor Lindsey Appiah. But then, as she dryly put it, the whole thing "got a little bigger" once Trump got involved. Washington, she said, has by now become accustomed to reacting "spontaneously and flexibly" to such escalations.
And yet a fundamental question arises: what does it say about a democracy when its army marches publicly - not for protection, but for show? When the president turns not only the constitution, but the city itself into a stage for his demonstration of power? When fences are taller than ever, not because the threat is growing, but because isolationism has become political doctrine?
There are, reportedly, no specific threats at the moment, according to the FBI. But who needs external enemies when the greatest danger comes from within - from a mindset that prefers to command rather than listen, to rule rather than serve, to march rather than debate?
Washington is celebrating a birthday. Not just the army’s, but that of a man who long ago began to see himself as indispensable. And the city? It does not remain silent. It is preparing. For a parade, for a wave of protest - and perhaps for another chapter in that strange story in which America no longer recognizes itself.