Staff Reports
WrestleMania once again delivered its trademark blend of athleticism and spectacle this past weekend, but for those paying attention, the most fascinating drama wasn’t just in the ring. It’s the concept of “kayfabe”—the art of blurring reality and fiction—that truly defines both professional wrestling and, increasingly, American politics. Nowhere is this more evident than in the persona and political strategy of Donald Trump, who has masterfully imported the lessons of the squared circle into the national arena.
Kayfabe is the unwritten rule that keeps the audience invested, asking them to suspend disbelief and buy into the drama, even when everyone knows it’s scripted. In wrestling, this means cheering the hero and booing the villain, all while knowing that the outcomes are predetermined. Trump, with his decades-long association with WWE, understood this better than any politician in modern history. He didn’t just borrow the showman’s tactics—he lived them, turning political rallies into raucous events where every insult, every boast, and every feud was part of a larger-than-life narrative.
What the mainstream media and political establishment never seemed to grasp is that Trump’s “kayfabe” wasn’t about deceiving the public; it was about engaging them. His supporters weren’t duped—they were in on the act, just like wrestling fans who know the Undertaker isn’t an undead mortician. Trump’s bombastic style, his willingness to play both hero and villain, and his relentless taunting of the press created a spectacle that the media couldn’t resist, even as they pretended to be outraged. The result? Trump dominated news cycles, set the terms of debate, and exposed the establishment’s reliance on drama and narrative over substance.
This dynamic has laid bare the hypocrisy of the left and the media. While they wring their hands about Trump’s theatrics, they’re just as addicted to the spectacle as his most ardent fans. Their outrage is part of the show, driving ratings and reinforcing the very narratives they claim to despise. Meanwhile, Democrats continue to prop up deeply unpopular policies and politicians, not on merit, but because the anti-Trump act demands it. It’s kayfabe at its finest—everyone playing their part, reality be damned.
At the end of the day, both wrestling and politics are about keeping the audience engaged. Trump’s genius was in recognizing that Americans are hungry for authenticity, even if that authenticity comes wrapped in the trappings of performance. He let the public in on the joke: politics has always been a show, and it’s time to stop pretending otherwise. As the media and the left continue to flounder, clinging to their tired scripts, Trump’s brand of kayfabe remains the most honest thing in the arena. The show must go on—and for millions of Americans, Trump is still the main event.
