On the White House South Lawn, rising high above the Executive Mansion, a battlefield awaits. The temporary coliseum erected for Sunday night’s Ultimate Fighting Championship matches promises a spectacle unlike any ever held on a president’s doorstep. The Trump administration insists the event is part of the celebration of America’s 250th anniversary, unironically linking the country’s founding with an evening of violence on an altar to hypermasculinity.
But the timing of the event, taking place on President Donald Trump’s 80th birthday, is no mere coincidence. As with last year’s military parade, ostensibly in honor of the U.S. Army’s 200th birthday, the president has seized on the opportunity to disguise a taxpayer-funded gift to himself as a present to the nation. While the administration attempts to link these fights to the revolutionaries who rebelled against a monarch, Sunday’s event more closely resembles a king and his court attending a tournament in the late Middle Ages. The federal government has spent an embarrassingly large sum in the hopes of providing a diversion for America’s would-be king as the country’s greatest ills go untreated.
The federal government has spent an embarrassingly large sum in the hopes of providing a diversion for America’s would-be king as the country’s greatest ills go untreated.
Presidents enjoying a bit of rough-and-tumble is nothing new. Abraham Lincoln was known for being a wrestler in his youth, while Theodore Roosevelt’s love of boxing followed him to the White House. Trump is neither. He is a man who has late in life gravitated towards mixed martial arts and in particular its blend of pro-wrestling’s dramatic characters and the bare-knuckled beatings its practitioners administer. It befits a man who once reportedly made his son fast-forward through all the boring plot exposition of a favorite action movie, “Bloodsport.”
Trump’s presence in the hastily constructed arena, known as “The Claw,” lends itself perfectly to the image of a feudal lord observing most modern conceptions of medieval tournaments. Unlike the recreations seen at Renaissance Faires and Medieval Times outposts around the country, the original tournaments focused on warriors clashing in a massive melee. Knights and other men-at-arms could display their battlefield skills in a more contained setting to win renown and ransom from their defeated opponents. Only over time did tournaments shift to emphasize the more scaled-down, but still dangerous, events like jousting.
By the 16th century, tournaments had also become a way for their noble organizers to show off their vast wealth or herald auspicious moments in their lives. When King Henry VIII of England held a royal summit with King Francis I of France in 1520, it took place at the “Field of the Cloth of Gold,” so named for how much of the expensive fabric was used in crafting the tents and costumes assembled there. Both royals took part in the tournaments to show off their own athleticism as a stand-in for their military prowess. Prof. Glenn Robinson of St. Mary’s University estimated in 2020 that the whole shebang roughly cost the equivalent of £15 million pounds — roughly $25 million in 2026 dollars.
Trump will not be following Henry and Francis’ lead; the octogenarian president will not be competing in the Octagon, even though 25% of Republican men in a recent YouGov survey claimed they’d be unable to beat Trump in a fight. But the price-tag of the UFC event dwarfs that of the Tudor-era spectacle. According to documents filed in response to a lawsuit that attempted to halt the fight, the Trump administration says that it has already spent a jaw-dropping $60 million pulling together the presidential fight night.
That absurd amount of money befits an absurdly grotesque event. It feels surreal that a cage match will be held on the White House lawn in honor of a man holding thousands of immigrant men, women, and children in cages around the country. It feels bewildering that Trump will be on hand to watch displays of martial excellence even as the actual war he started with Iran simmers unresolved in the background. And it seems likely that this event will yield a hefty profit for Trump’s allies like UFC CEO Dana White — and Trump himself, given his purchase of stock in UFC’s parent company before announcing the event last year.
This is being done not as a celebration of America’s origins but in the name of providing amusement for the aging boy king and his retinue
The Roman Empire famously provided the plebians free wheat and gladiatorial games to keep them in check and keep them from wanting more. The White House likewise hopes that the showcase of sweaty brutality will help lure back the young male voters who’ve grown disillusioned after voting for Trump in 2024. But for today’s masses there is no bread, only circuses, as underscored by an event held by the rich, for the rich, with another estimated 120,000 crowding to watch from the Ellipse.
All of this is being done not as a celebration of America’s origins but in the name of providing amusement for the aging boy king and his retinue. Given his professed love of the sport, maybe Trump will manage to stay more engaged throughout the title card fight than he was during the NBA Finals game he attended last week. At least the commute home for him, after the lights have dimmed, the victors named, and his birthday wish already granted, will be a short one.
Hayes Brown is a writer and editor for MS NOW. He focuses on policymaking at the federal level, including Congress and the White House.