“Do you hear the people sing? / Singing the song of angry men? / It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again!”
When the rousing anthem of revolution filled the Kennedy Center on Wednesday night, Donald Trump may have had a Pavlovian response along the lines of “Get me Stephen Miller” or “Send in the marines”. We will never know.
The tuxedo-clad US president had stood on a red carpet, accompanied by first lady Melania in a long black dress, promising a “golden era” for America before attending the musical Les Misérables, which translates as The Miserable Ones or The Wretched.
The story of Les Mis is inspired by the June Rebellion, an 1832 insurrection by republicans against the authoritarianism of a newly established French king. No one is expecting a replay from Republicans in June 2025.
Characters include Jean Valjean, who is imprisoned for stealing a loaf of bread then seeks redemption, and Inspector Javert, who is obsessed with law and order and hunts Valjean without mercy. One reporter asked Trump whether he identifies more with Valjean or Javert.
“Oh, that’s a tough one,” chuckled the wannabe strongman who sent troops to crush immigration protests in Los Angeles and is about to stage a tank parade on his birthday. “You better answer that one, honey,” he deflected to Melania. “I don’t know.”
It was Trump’s first production at the Kennedy Center, the performing arts complex where he pulled a Viktor Orbán and seized control in February. He pushed out the centre’s former chair, fired its longtime president and pledged to overhaul an institution that he criticized as too woke.
But ticket sales have fallen since and some performers have cancelled shows. On Wednesday, as he took his seat, 78-year-old Trump was greeted with a high-octane mix of cheers and boos that stopped after a round of “USA” chants.
Several drag queens in full regalia sat in the audience, presumably in response to Trump’s criticism of the venue for hosting drag shows. One person shouted “Viva Los Angeles!” as Trump stepped out of the presidential box at the intermission.
The president’s appearance was meant to boost fundraising for the Kennedy Center and he said donors raised more than $10m. But Maga’s efforts to break into the thespian world went about as well as Napoleon’s invasion of Russia.
Red carpet arrivals for the show were a far cry from the glamour of Cannes, Hollywood or London’s West End. Instead of crowds of fans clamouring for autographs and selfies, Trump and his allies walked through an eerily deserted Hall of Nations and looked unsure whether to answer questions yelled by the media.
Those who did revelled in cultural ignorance. First came Corey Lewandowski, a former Trump campaign manager who has faced allegations of sexual harassment. He said: “What’s amazing is, out of all the years I’ve been in Washington DC, I’ve never been in this building.”
JD Vance, the vice-president, walked the red carpet with wife Usha, now on the Kennedy Center’s board of trustees, and denied that Trump had staged a “hostile takeover”. He then tweeted: “About to see Les Miserables with POTUS at the Kennedy Center. Me to Usha: so what’s this about? A barber who kills people? Usha; [hysterical laughter].”
Accompanied by his wife, the actor Cheryl Hines, Robert F Kennedy Jr recalled how his uncle, President John F Kennedy – whose giant bust looms in the atrium – used to say the Greeks were remembered for their architecture, sculpture, plays and poetry. “A civilisation ultimately is judged based upon its culture and its art. He wanted to make sure that American civilisation would be judged by that and President Trump shares that vision.”
Trump spent last Saturday night with Mike Tyson watching people beat the hell out of each other behind a chain-link fence in the Ultimate Fighting Championship, which is quite possibly how American civilisation will actually be judged.
Indeed, on his watch, the Kennedy Center no longer feels very Kennedy-esque. The atmosphere is different from the days when Democrats Barack Obama and Nancy Pelosi glided in for the annual Kennedy Center Honors. Framed portraits of the Trumps and the Vances are mounted on a marble wall and, on Wednesday, were bathed in holy light. Washington is now a city under occupation.
The president, who reportedly once derided “shithole countries” in Africa, walked in beneath national flags that include Uganda, Zambia and Zimbabwe and past the opera house stage door. His impromptu press conference was a surreal combination of theatre and geopolitics, veering from his favourite musicals one moment to the prospect of Middle East war the next.
“I love Les Mis,” Trump said. “We’ve seen it many times. We love it. One of my favourites.” He was untroubled by reports that understudies may perform due to boycotts by cast members. “I couldn’t care less,” he said. “Honestly, I couldn’t. All I do is run the country well.”
Then on Iran: “They can’t have a nuclear weapon. Very simple. They can’t have a nuclear weapon. We’re not going to allow that.”
Then back to showbiz. Brian Glenn of Real America’s Voice, who is congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene’s boyfriend, proclaimed: “Mr President, we’re making theatre great again, aren’t we tonight?… You’re bringing class back. The golden era of theatre!”
Trump lapped it up as a cat does milk. “And we have a golden era here in the country,” he said. “We’re bringing the country back fast and I’m very proud to have helped Los Angeles survive. Los Angeles right now, if we didn’t do what we did, would be burning to the ground.”
Glenn wasn’t done. “You’re a New Yorker. You’ve been to a million theatres. Do you remember your first theatre production that you attended?”
Trump looked pensive, as if mulling over countless nights absorbing the works of Samuel Beckett, Eugène Ionesco, Tom Stoppard, Tennessee Williams and August Wilson. “A long time ago,” he mused. “I would say maybe it was Cats.”
Glenn put the same question to Melania, who had held Trump’s hand while maintaining a sphinx-like expression. She cited The Phantom of the Opera, which must have been music to the ears of man whose cultural hinterland runs the gamut from 1980 to 1989.
But on the night that Maga stormed America’s citadel of culture, one man was nowhere to be seen. Elon Musk’s banishment continues despite his recent attempts to end his feud with the president. Perhaps the tech bro was out there somewhere in the gloomy streets of Washington, channelling Les Mis’s Éponine:
On my own
Pretending he’s beside me
All alone
I walk with him ‘til morning
… Without me
His world will go on turning
A world that’s full of happiness
That I have never known
