Trump’s Self-Naming Spree: From Airports to Imaginary Monuments, The Ego Knows No Bounds

In a tradition that respects history and collective memory, monuments and landmarks are typically named after national leaders long after their deaths. The Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorial, for instance, stand as testaments to this measured commemoration—completed decades after the men themselves passed away.

Donald Trump, however, is rejecting this norm with an unapologetic hunger to stamp his name on everything while still in office. According to a recent commentary by Rolland Kidder in the Post Journal, Trump’s name is already attached to the Kennedy Center and an airport in Palm Beach. The president even offhandedly referred to the Strait of Hormuz as the “Trump Strait,” a nod to his aggressive posture toward Iran that, while likely unaccepted internationally, underscores his craving for personal legacy.

This self-naming trend recalls the vanity of ancient Caesars who emblazoned their names across Rome and its territories. Kidder draws a parallel to Hadrian’s Wall in England, suggesting that Trump’s border wall could someday bear his name, cementing his identity with a deeply divisive symbol of immigration enforcement.

The obsession extends beyond physical landmarks. Speculation swirls about the location of Trump’s presidential library, with suggestions ranging from a Miami skyscraper with gaudy golden arches to his Mar-a-Lago estate, where he has spent more time than any president in history. The overriding priority appears to be not the library’s significance or accessibility but simply that it carries the Trump brand prominently.

Even more outlandish are rumors of plans for an Arc d’Triomphe near Arlington Cemetery or a granite sculpture at Mount Rushmore or the nearby Crazy Horse monument—projects that would dwarf traditional presidential memorials in their ostentation.

This relentless self-promotion is more than just ego. It signals a troubling departure from the humility and restraint that should define public service. Instead of letting history judge his legacy, Trump is aggressively trying to write it himself, wrapping his name around symbols of power, conflict, and national identity.

If the proposed oversized ballroom next to the White House ever materializes, it will likely bear his name too—unless a future administration tears it down to restore the dignity of the people’s house.

In a time when democratic norms are under siege, Trump’s self-naming spree is a stark reminder of how authoritarian impulses can manifest not just in policy but in the very symbols that shape our national story. We should watch closely and resist the rewriting of history in the image of one man’s ego.