Previous presidents served the public trust. Trump serves only his own power | Opinion

For nearly a century, American presidents — Democrats and Republicans alike — have operated under an unspoken agreement: that the office they hold is more than power. It is a public trust. While they may battle politically, they have shared a basic understanding of the presidency’s civic dignity.

That agreement has been shattered.

From Franklin D. Roosevelt to Joe Biden, most presidents have known they are temporary stewards of a lasting institution. Roosevelt, who expanded executive authority more than any president since Abraham Lincoln, still treated public communication as a moral obligation. Even Richard Nixon, in disgrace, resigned rather than risk further damage to the office. Ronald Reagan spoke to uplift. Bill Clinton, George W. Bush and Barack Obama disagreed on just about everything, but none treated the presidency as a personal brand or private enterprise.

They knew the power of the office wasn’t theirs. It belonged to the people.

Today, that sense of responsibility is gone.

This month, the president abruptly reversed course on trade tariffs, sending markets into chaos and triggering gains for a fortunate few. Then, with a grin, he bragged that some of his billionaire backers had made huge profits off the chaos: “That’s not bad!”

That’s not policymaking. That’s performance. A wink to insiders. A joke on the rest of us.

It was a reminder that this administration isn’t here to govern — it’s here to stage power. Where presidents once served, this one improvises. Where others communicated policy, this one tosses out lines. Where others respected institutions, this one dares them to stop him.

Foreign affairs are conducted like television scripts; domestic policy is treated like a loyalty test; and the presidency, once a symbol of democratic stability, has become a revolving stage for provocation, grievance and ego.

This is more than a political disagreement. It is a breach of faith.

The damage being done isn’t just to policy — it’s to expectation, to what the public believes the presidency is supposed to be. If we allow this behavior to pass as politics as usual, we are telling the next generation that truth is flexible, that spectacle is strategy and that power requires no humility.

So I ask: Is this your president?

Is this your country?

Is this the legacy we meant to leave behind?

Because what we tolerate today becomes precedent. What we ignore now becomes permission.

There is still time to say no. Still time to push back. To write. To vote. To organize. Remind the presidency that it does not belong to any man — it belongs to the people.

But if we do nothing — if we say nothing — then someday, when this chapter closes, we will face the question no one wants to answer:

Was there nothing sacred left to defend?