Donald Trump has had a federal building named after him, two naval warships, an airport, and a government savings account. He flew to Mount Rushmore on the eve of America's 250th birthday to speak beneath the carved faces of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Roosevelt. And yet the one honor he apparently wants most is the one thing on this earth that will never, ever happen.
The Dream He Couldn't Laugh Off
Back in 2018, then-Congresswoman Kristi Noem of South Dakota claimed Trump told her his 'dream' was to have his likeness carved into Mount Rushmore alongside history's giants. According to NBC News, Noem said she started laughing. Trump did not. He was, she says, completely serious.
Noem, who would go on to serve as his Homeland Security Secretary, recounted the exchange publicly. That alone should tell you something about the man's self-regard. Most presidents leave office hoping for a favorable paragraph in a history textbook. This one looked at a granite mountain and saw a selfie opportunity.
As South Dakota governor in 2020, Noem did what any good loyalist does: she found a workaround. She gave Trump a 4-foot-high model of Mount Rushmore with his face already on it. A participation trophy for a fantasy that geology had already vetoed.
The Rock Itself Vetoed This
Here is where the story takes a turn that is almost poetic in its finality. It is not Congress that stands in the way of a fifth face on Mount Rushmore. It is not public opinion, or historians, or the courts. It is the mountain. The mountain physically cannot do it.
As NBC News reports, lead sculptor Gutzon Borglum wrote during the monument's construction, which ran from 1927 to 1941, that the 'stone limitations are so serious, that I doubt if it would be possible to change the composition, which is fixed, in any way to include a fifth head.' The man who built the thing said it was already maxed out. That was eighty-five years ago.
Sen. Mike Rounds, Republican of South Dakota, confirmed it to NBC News at the site Friday. 'Unfortunately, we actually looked at Ronald Reagan, as well, and the problem is the geologists we've talked to tell us there's simply no good rock on the mountain.' They checked. For Reagan. And still no. Trump doesn't even get the consolation of being the second guy the mountain rejected.
Congress Tried Anyway, Because of Course They Did
One week after Trump's second inauguration, Rep. Anna Paulina Luna of Florida introduced a bill calling for Trump's face to be carved into Mount Rushmore. NBC News reports the bill never advanced out of the House Natural Resources Committee. It went nowhere. Into the void. Presumably the committee chair looked at the bill, looked at the geological record, and quietly put it in a drawer.
Luna has since moved on to nominating Trump for a Nobel Peace Prize, which is its own thing entirely. Her office did not respond to NBC News when asked for comment on the Mount Rushmore bill. Probably for the best.
The Name Game He Is Winning Elsewhere
Look, Trump is not exactly hurting for monuments to himself. NBC News catalogues the running list: a federal building in Washington, two naval warships, an airport in Palm Beach, and a new government savings account. The Kennedy Center board, packed with Trump loyalists, added his name to the building, though a federal judge ordered it removed. His name got chiseled onto the U.S. Institute of Peace building in Washington. That one stayed.
So the pattern is clear. Slap the name on anything that will hold still long enough. The one exception, the one honor that apparently sits above all others in his own mind, is the carved granite face on a South Dakota mountain. And the South Dakota mountain has issued its ruling.
Washington and Lincoln Have Thoughts
NBC News, to its eternal credit, got the take from two historical impersonators roaming the grounds at Mount Rushmore before Friday's event. A man dressed as George Washington and another dressed as Abraham Lincoln were asked whether they'd welcome Trump's company up above.
'I think they've captured the necessary elements, and any changes might create more trouble than it's worth,' Lincoln said. Washington agreed enthusiastically, saying 'things as they stand are just fine.' Two guys in costume gave the most diplomatically worded 'absolutely not' in the history of Fourth of July weekend journalism.
Meanwhile, a real Trump supporter in the cafeteria, sheltering from hail and rain that disrupted the pre-show, told NBC News that Trump 'is the greatest president we've had in my lifetime' and praised him for trying to 'unite everybody.' His name was Mike Pack, 74, of Oregon, and he was wearing a MAGA hat. So, you know, take that one with whatever grain of salt feels right.
The Dingo Take
There is something almost Shakespearean about this, if Shakespeare had written tragedies about men who desperately needed everyone to know how great they were. Donald Trump has bent the federal government to his will across two terms. He has put his name on buildings, ships, airports, and financial products. He has remade entire agencies in his image. And still, at the end of the day, he flies to South Dakota and looks up at four dead presidents and wants what he cannot have. The mountain said no. Geology said no. The sculptor said no from beyond the grave. The only remaining comfort is a plastic replica sitting somewhere in his house.
The part that really sticks is the 2020 timeline. While his White House aides were quietly asking questions about adding faces to the monument, Trump was publicly denying it while also posting on social media that it 'sounds like a good idea to me.' That is the entire Trump communications strategy in one anecdote. Deny the thing, then endorse the thing, then act baffled anyone brought it up.
America turns 250 years old this weekend. Its monuments, for now, remain as they were. The granite holds. Whether everything else does is, unfortunately, a much harder question.
