By Michael Blitz
Imagine: You co-own a lovely 233-year-old home, furnished with heirlooms, with property and gardens admired by all. You and your co-owners love this house. In keeping with longstanding tradition, you allow an employee and his family, selected by the majority of your group, to live in it.
The terms are that the tenants may live in the house rent-free as long as they welcome visitors, bar criminals from the property and, when the rental period is over, vacate the premises.
A few months after moving in, however, the latest tenant, without permission or consultation, demolishes one-fifth of the house and hires contractors to build an addition that will be used for his private parties. He tells the contractors not to worry; the house really belongs to him. And he tells you and your co-owners that when the time comes for him to move out, he may simply decide to stay.
You are in a bind. If you object, some will see you as being overly critical of a bold and adventurous man. If you say nothing, you have in effect given him permission to demolish the home, discard its contents and history and thumb his nose in contempt at the people who are letting him live there.
You know where this is heading.
To be fair, Donald Trump is not the first president to make dramatic modifications to the White House. In 1902, Theodore Roosevelt built what is now called the West Wing to accommodate a rapidly growing executive staff and to create separation between the workspace and the Roosevelt family’s private quarters.
In 1942, Franklin Roosevelt authorized the construction of the East Wing. The government’s day-to-day operations had expanded exponentially during World War II. There was a need for more space for larger international conferences. The East Wing also had offices for the first lady’s staff, areas for public events, and a shelter for wartime security.
By 1948, the 156-year old White House was in need of significant repairs. Wooden beams were rotting and the entire infrastructure needed updating. President Harry Truman called for steel beams, concrete, modern wiring and plumbing. The renovations were not without controversy. When builders installed the “Truman Balcony,” some objected to the $16,000 price tag (around $215,000 today); others argued that it wasn’t a good look to add a private terrace to the world’s most public house. But every president since then has enjoyed using the balcony for relaxation and for greeting people gathered on the South Lawn.
Back to the present.
Trump recently authorized the demolition of the East Wing. He wanted a ballroom that could hold 650 people; the price would be around $200 million. Then he announced that the new space would be “slightly larger” — 90,000 square feet, to accommodate 900 guests, at a cost in excess of $300 million. Trump has often said that for major events, he wants a permanent, grand space similar in size and style to his Mar-a-Lago ballroom. His guests, Trump says, will pay “a lot of money” for the privilege of gathering in “my beautiful ballroom.”
Protests have come from Republicans and Democrats who question both the stated exclusivity of the new space and its exorbitant cost at a time when people are losing health insurance, food-assistance programs and general buying power. Trump has responded that he doesn’t need anyone’s permission to change one of the world’s most historically significant national monuments.
Asked whether he intends to name the ballroom after himself, Trump has replied that he hasn’t “really thought about it.” About the price, he has said repeatedly, “I’ll pay for it myself.” But the fact is, he won’t. Wealthy patrons have already stepped in to cover the cost, treating the renovation as an open invitation to buy influence.
Trump has always called himself a builder. But builders strengthen foundations; they don’t bulldoze symbols of public life to erect shrines to themselves. He seems to have no interest in building on the past to create something lasting for others; instead he is building
over it, as if erasure were the surest form of legacy. The question isn’t how to undo the demolition work, but how long Americans can afford to pretend that it doesn’t matter. The Trump ballroom will open, the guests will arrive and the message will be that the People’s House has less and less room for the people who own it.
Michael Blitz is professor emeritus of interdisciplinary studies at the City University of New York’s John Jay College of Criminal Justice.