Any views or opinions expressed in this column are of the individual, group, or entity who submitted it and not the publication, owner(s), its advertisers, or affiliates.
Look, Washington, DC, already has enough marble and granite to make a Roman emperor blush. But here’s a simple rule that’s served this country well for over two centuries: we don’t build grand monuments to honor presidents while they’re still alive.
No arches, no temples, no towering statues proclaiming their greatness in their own lifetime. And the proposed triumphal arch – the one some are already calling the Arc de Trump – is exactly why that tradition matters.
Presidents aren’t kings. Our whole system is built on the idea that no one person is indispensable or above the republic. When you start erecting massive monuments to a sitting or recently departed president, you’re crossing a dangerous line. You’re saying one man is so extraordinary that the nation must immortalize him while he can still admire it.
That’s not how republics work. That’s how cults of personality start.
This same impulse shows up in the president’s push for a massive new ballroom at the White House. What began as a renovation has ballooned into a nearly four-hundred-million-dollar expansion, replacing part of the East Wing with a lavish, high-capacity event space. The price tag has already doubled from the original estimate, and it’s being sold as both a security upgrade and a grand new venue for state functions.
But paired with the arch, it starts to feel less like prudent stewardship and more like personal aggrandizement – turning the people’s house into a backdrop for one man’s vision of grandeur. Public space and public funds should serve the country, not become extensions of any president’s personal brand.
History shows us the wisdom of waiting. The Lincoln Memorial wasn’t dedicated until 1922 – over fifty years after Lincoln’s death. The Jefferson Memorial came in the 1940s, long after Jefferson was gone. Mount Rushmore features presidents who had all passed on decades earlier. These weren’t rushed vanity projects. They were national reflections, built after time had allowed the country to weigh a president’s full record – the triumphs, the failures, the complexities.
Time gives perspective. Living presidents get parades and libraries. The dead get monuments when the dust has settled.
Building this kind of structure for a living president also flips the purpose of these memorials. The National Mall isn’t meant to celebrate individual egos. It’s a sacred space that tells the story of the nation – its founding, its struggles, its highest ideals. A triumphal arch modeled after European celebrations of military conquest feels wildly out of place next to memorials that honor sacrifice, unity, and democracy. Especially when it’s tied so personally to one man still in power. It turns public space into a personal billboard.
And let’s be honest about the optics. When a president uses his authority to push through a two-hundred-fifty-foot arch that he himself has said is for him, it sends the wrong message. It looks like self-glorification, not statesmanship. We don’t want future generations walking past these landmarks wondering whether they honor the country or just the guy who happened to be in the White House at the time. Monuments should outlast politics. They shouldn’t be campaign props.
There’s also the practical side. Presidential legacies are complicated. Policies that look brilliant today can age poorly. Scandals fade or deepen with time. Historians need distance to judge fairly. Rushing to cement someone’s image in stone while they’re still shaping events – or still capable of shaping them – distorts that judgment. It freezes the story at the most flattering moment instead of letting the full truth emerge.
This isn’t about any one president. It’s about preserving the character of the republic. We honor leaders best by remembering them as servants of the people, not as figures demanding worship. The tradition of waiting until they’re gone isn’t some stuffy formality – it’s a safeguard against turning public memory into private vanity.
The arch might look impressive on paper. But some things shouldn’t be built just because we can. Our monuments should reflect who we are as a nation, not the ambitions of any one man — no matter how big the arch or how bold the vision. Let’s keep that tradition intact. The republic will be better for it.
Bill Gindlesperger is a central Pennsylvanian, Dickinson College graduate, Pennsylvania System Of Higher Education (PASSHE) Governor, former Shippensburg University Trustee, awarded numerous patents, as well as Founder and Chairman of eLynxx Solutions. eLynxx provides cloud-software for automated sourcing and managing of mail marketing, swag, packaging, and all things print. He is a board member, campaign advisor, successful entrepreneur, published author and commentator. He can be reached at Bill@eLynxx.com