The Great Unraveling, continued… How America’s most powerful alliance collapsed in 72 hours
Trump, Musk, and the $152 billion question: Can populism survive elite defection?
The spectacle that unfolded late this week between Donald Trump and Elon Musk represents more than a collision of egos. What we saw emerge from their respective social media platforms on Thursday was a seismic fracture in the foundation of America’s populist revival.
The repercussions threaten to scatter—across the battlefield of petty grievances and wounded pride—a center-right coalition that delivered victory last fall. Likewise, this public demolition of what once appeared an unshakeable alliance reveals the nature of movements built on personality rather than principle.
These things are fragile.
Once, thanks to social networking, these fault lines were shown denuded, members of Trump’s base are now left to wonder if his second term will deliver on The Donald’s multitude of campaign promises or if a second term will characteristically devolve into the familiar chaos of Washington infighting.
The arc of the Trump–Musk relationship reads like a political tragedy penned by Shakespeare. At hand: two towering figures whose shared ambitions elevated them to unprecedented heights before their very natures doomed them to mutual destruction.
In November 2016, Musk remarked that Trump “doesn’t seem to have the sort of character that reflects well on the United States,” yet over time, their common objectives forged an unexpected partnership that reshaped American politics.
This transformation unfolded slowly at first… then all at once. During the first Trump administration, Musk served on economic advisory councils before departing over climate policy disagreements. While we didn’t know it then, this served as a preview of the ideological fissures that would later tear their partnership asunder.
Curiously, by 2024, Musk had become Trump’s most valuable ally—pouring millions into America PAC, attending rallies with the fervor of a convert, and lending the megaphone of his 𝕏 platform to amplify the populist message. Once skeptical, the tech mogul’s endorsement after the Butler, Pennsylvania assassination attempt on Trump represented his full embrace of the MAGA movement, transforming him from hesitant observer to committed participant.
Once Trump regained the White House, their honeymoon period resembled something from a political fairy tale. Musk practically took up residence at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, sharing late-night Häagen-Dazs sessions with the president and bringing his son “Little X” to scamper through the Oval Office.
The bond appeared genuine. For here were two disruptors who conquered their respective domains and found common cause against the establishment they both despised. Trump appointed Musk to lead the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), brandishing that golden key as symbol of trust bestowed upon his most essential ally.
But Washington has a way of corrupting even the purest intentions. The very proximity that bred intimacy also fostered friction. Musk’s grandiose promises to slash $2 trillion from federal spending quickly proved as inflated as his initial Tesla production targets.
The reality of governance—messy, incremental, and constrained by administrative prerogatives—clashed with Musk’s Silicon Valley sensibilities. Tensions mounted over tariff policy, Cabinet disputes, and staff conflicts until Trump privately confessed his weariness with the Tesla CEO.
The breaking point arrived not with dramatic confrontation but bureaucratic disappointment. When Musk’s handpicked candidate for NASA administrator, Jared Isaacman, faced congressional resistance over past Democratic donations, Trump unceremoniously withdrew the nomination. For Musk, whose sheer will often reshapes the physical world around him, this marked a profound betrayal—a clear indication that Trump was prepared to impose limits on his power.
The surface explanation for this spectacular falling-out centers on Trump’s “One Big Beautiful Bill” —the massive spending and tax legislation that Musk denounced as a “disgusting abomination” filled with “outrageous” pork. Yet this policy disagreement merely provided the spark for a conflagration fueled by deeper motivations rooted in wounded pride, threatened profits, and irreconcilable differences over the direction of America’s future.
For Musk, the bill represented a triple assault on his interests and ideology. The legislation eliminates electric vehicle tax credits that have proven essential to Tesla’s market dominance. One analyst called it a potential “death blow” to the company’s sales.
Beyond financial considerations, the bill’s massive spending increases violated Musk’s publicly stated commitment to fiscal responsibility, making him appear either hypocritical or powerless within Trump’s inner circle. Most galling, the rejection of his NASA nominee demonstrated that his vaunted influence had practical limits—a humiliation for someone accustomed to radically altering entire industries through determination alone.
Some argue, perhaps dubiously, that Trump’s motivation reveals the calculating mind of a master politician protecting his legacy and authority.
What is clear, though, is that the president did recognize Musk’s presence had become a liability. For instance, the negative comments from Musk to some of his fellow CEOs about tariffs undermined administration messaging, while some of the DOGE cuts even angered Republicans dependent on government services.
Fundamentally, Trump appears to understand that sharing the spotlight with another larger-than-life figure diminishes his own commanding presence.
The decision to ease Musk toward the exit represented pragmatic governance rather than personal animosity. That was until Musk’s public attacks transformed measured distance into open warfare.
The deeper impulse driving both men involves their competing visions of American renewal. Trump’s populism draws its strength from appealing to forgotten Americans whose concerns transcend the technocratic solutions favored by Silicon Valley moguls. Musk’s vision, rooted in technological disruption and global markets, ultimately serves elite interests despite his populist posturing.
This fundamental tension—between Trump’s America First patriotism and Musk’s borderless capitalism—made their eventual separation inevitable.
The public nature of this breakdown has forced allies and opportunists alike to choose sides, revealing the true architecture of power within what is broadly interpreted as the “conservative movement.” The responses illuminate not merely personal loyalties but competing theories of how populist politics should evolve in Trump’s second term.
Vice President JD Vance emerged as Trump’s most articulate defender, though his carefully calibrated response revealed the delicate balance required when managing feuding titans. Vance’s declared that Musk made a “huge mistake” in attacking Trump. This demonstrated his loyalty to the president while maintaining diplomatic language that still may leave room for eventual reconciliation with Musk.
By articulating that continued conflict “will be bad for the country” and his hope that Musk might “come back into the fold,” this also suggests other administration officials have likely recognized the high stakes involved in this dispute.
Vance’s position carries particular significance given his own complex relationship with both principal actors. Vance’s pre-political career included criticism of Trump, while his time in Silicon Valley created a natural affinity with Musk’s disruptive approach.
The measured response by Vance—defending Trump while avoiding gratuitous attacks on Musk—demonstrates the sophisticated political instincts that made him Trump’s chosen successor. When shown Musk’s explosive accusation linking Trump to Jeffrey Epstein, Vance’s immediate dismissal as “totally false” revealed the clear lines he will not allow enemies to cross.
Former White House Chief Strategist Steve Bannon’s response showcased populism’s more militant wing. Bannon called for Trump to seize Musk’s SpaceX under the Defense Production Act and to revoke Musk’s security clearance. This scorched-earth approach reflects Bannon’s longstanding skepticism of tech billionaires bearing gifts, viewing Musk as an elite interloper who never truly embraced populist principles.
Bannon’s prediction that Musk “won’t be forgiven by MAGA supporters” may represent wishful thinking, but it also reveals his own desire to purge the movement of uncomfortable allies.
The business community’s response proved more nuanced. Figures like liberal Trump ally Bill Ackman called for an outright reconciliation “for the sake of our nation” —a plea that Musk acknowledged with characteristic ambiguity. Wall Street’s brutal punishment of Tesla stock, quickly erasing $152 billion in value, demonstrated that markets view this feud as an authentic threat to Musk’s empire.
Financial pressure may ultimately prove more persuasive than political appeals when it comes to bringing the combatants to terms.
Furthermore, the role of JD Vance in this drama extends far beyond simple loyalty tests or diplomatic messaging. His response offered critical insights into how a potential future president might navigate the complex relationship between populist politics and technological power. Vance’s careful calibration suggests someone thinking beyond immediate controversies toward longer-term coalition management.
The vice president’s background uniquely positions him to understand both sides of this conflict. His venture capital experience in Silicon Valley provided intimate knowledge of how tech moguls think and operate, while his populist conversion gives him credibility with Trump’s base.
Vance’s analysis suggests that Musk’s behavior is shaped more by a lack of political experience than by any deep-rooted opposition to conservative or populist ideals. This more charitable view ensures that, while still unlikely at this point, a future alliance remains on the table.
When Vance handled Musk’s most incendiary accusation—the claim that Trump appears in Jeffrey Epstein files—it demonstrated both loyalty and strategic thinking. Rather than simply dismissing the charge, Vance used it to highlight media bias against Trump while positioning himself as defender of traditional principles against elite character assassination.
This response serves multiple purposes: defending his boss, delegitimizing future attacks, and establishing his own credentials as the potential guardian and inheritor of the MAGA movement.
Adding to the intrigue, Vance’s expressed hope that Musk might “come back into the fold” suggests someone thinking about coalition building beyond Trump’s presidency. At 40 years of age, Vance represents the future in right-of-center politics, and his reluctance to completely burn bridges with the world’s richest man reveals calculating ambition wrapped in diplomatic language.
This positioning could prove crucial if Trump’s feud with Musk does indeed damage their relationship permanently. Vance will emerge as the bridge between different factions within the broader movement encompassing Republican and populist circles.
Musk, 53, posted on 𝕏 that “Trump has 3.5 years left as President, but I will be around for 40+ years,” and, as such, it highlighted the temporal dynamics at play. The younger Vance also belongs to that longer timeline, while his careful response suggests someone who recognizes that today’s enemies might become tomorrow’s allies in the ongoing struggle against progressive dominance.
Meanwhile, the Trump–Musk feud carries profound implications for immigration policy—the cornerstone of Trump’s second-term agenda and the issue that most clearly distinguishes his brand of populism from the cosmopolitan aims of the establishment. Though the “One Big Beautiful Bill” allocates unprecedented resources for immigration enforcement, Musk’s opposition threatens to fragment the very coalition needed to sustain such ambitious deportation efforts.
The package commits $168 billion to immigration and border law enforcement, including $75 billion for ICE interior operations and $46.5 billion for border wall construction. These massive expenditures represent the largest immigration enforcement expansion in American history, designed to facilitate deportations exceeding one million annually while deterring millions more through voluntary departures.
Such scale does not merely require congressional approval but demands a vast, sustained political will—one that can survive the inevitable resistance from elites and hostility from the corporate media.
Musk’s opposition undermines Trump’s effort in multiple ways. His 𝕏 platform has helped to amplify the criticism of the very legislation that would fund mass deportation, potentially influencing Republican senators whose votes remain essential for passage. More fundamentally, his critique of fiscal irresponsibility resonates with libertarian-leaning Republicans who might otherwise support immigration enforcement but balk at the associated costs.
The Congressional Budget Office estimates that preventing deportations of eight million immigrants would reduce the federal deficit by $897 billion over ten years—a figure that complicates arguments for enforcement based purely on fiscal grounds.
The deeper challenge involves reconciling populist immigration policy with elite economic interests. Silicon Valley has long said it depends on foreign workers, and the government has accommodated that claim through various visa programs. The outsized influence of this vexatious lobby has created a natural tension between tech moguls and those with a more sober outlook about the consequences of unfettered immigration.
Musk’s own companies have historically relied on a cheaper immigrant-heavy workforce, making his conversion to Trumpism seem opportunistic rather than principled. His current opposition to immigration spending might reflect calculation that mass deportation would disrupt the very labor markets his businesses require.
Such a dynamic reveals a fundamental weakness in Trump’s coalition. There is a considerable difficulty in maintaining unity between the populist voters who demand immigration enforcement and Big Business allies whose profits depend on global labor flows.
Previous Republican administrations resolved this tension by promising enforcement while delivering amnesty, a betrayal that Trump’s movement explicitly rejected.
Yet Musk’s defection suggests that committed allies will abandon previously stated priorities when their interests diverge from populist demands. The long-term implications will extend beyond the immediate legislative battles.
Can immigration restrictionism as a governing philosophy sustain itself?
If business elites like Musk cannot be relied upon to support enforcement efforts they initially endorsed, then populist movements must either develop alternative power sources or accept diluted policies that preserve elite prerogatives. Trump’s willingness to threaten Musk’s government contracts represents one approach: Use state power to discipline wayward allies.
Such tactics, however, risk transforming principled governance into personal vendetta, undermining the very rule of law that immigration enforcement requires.
The immigration dispute parallels an equally significant conflict over trade policy, where Trump’s tariff strategy faces resistance from the same business community that once embraced his agenda. Musk’s documented opposition to Trump’s tariff policies during DOGE meetings reflected broader elite discomfort with economic patriotism—the belief, nay conviction, that American workers are to be prioritized over global supply chains.
Trump’s recent tariff announcements exceeded most predictions, implementing a 10 percent blanket tariff on imports alongside targeted measures against specific nations. These “reciprocal” tariffs respond to decades of trade deficits that devastated American manufacturing while enriching coastal elites and foreign competitors.
This administration’s shift in trade policy represents a genuine nod to economic patriotism—using state power to protect domestic production instead of maximizing corporate profits through global arbitrage.
But the reaction of the business community and free trade theorists reveal the obstacles facing any serious attempt at economic patriotism. Wall Street analysts immediately warned of inflationary pressures and supply chain disruptions, while companies threatened to pass increased costs to consumers.
If one takes Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins at face value, a suggestion emerges that tariffs might just be temporary negotiating tools rather than permanent policy shifts. But such hedging also undermines the credibility essential for effective trade policy.
Musk’s opposition carries particular significance given Tesla’s dependence on global supply chains and Chinese manufacturing. His criticism of tariffs damaged administration messaging and encouraged other business leaders to resist policies they viewed as threatening their operations. This pattern—initial support followed by quiet opposition—demonstrates how elite allies can undermine populist policies without direct confrontation.
The broader challenge involves implementing economic patriotism within a political system designed to serve global capital. Tariffs face resistance not merely from Democrats but from Republicans whose donors depend on cheap foreign production. Corporate America’s threat to raise prices “because of tariffs” represents a form of economic blackmail designed to turn consumers against patriotic policies.
Disrupting this cycle requires a rare kind of political courage: the willingness to sacrifice short-term comfort for the sake of lasting reform. Yet, it is precisely the kind of resolve that elite forces relentlessly attempt to erode.
Trump’s tariff strategy ultimately tests whether American democracy will reassert national economic sovereignty against globalist resistance. Success requires maintaining unity among populist voters while disciplining business allies who prefer rhetoric to substance. Musk’s defection signals that even the most prominent converts remain fair-weather friends when policies threaten their bottom lines.
The spectacular breakdown between Trump and Musk also illuminates fundamental tensions within contemporary Republican politics—tensions that will determine whether populist victories translate into lasting change or dissipate through the unyielding pressure of elites and internal discord within the ranks.
The conflict represents more than personal animosity: It embodies competing visions of how popular movements are to relate to technological power and global capital.
The immediate damage extends far beyond hurt feelings or social media theatrics. Tesla’s $152 billion market collapse demonstrates how political uncertainty threatens the very business empires that initially supported Trump’s agenda. Wall Street’s brutal assessment reflects recognition that Musk’s political positioning had become central to Tesla’s valuation—a dangerous dependence that this feud has now shattered.
The speed of this financial destruction, however, reveals how quickly political alliances can transform into economic liabilities.
More troubling to those wishing for genuine conservative governance is that the public nature of this dispute encourages every interest group to question whether their temporary alignment with Trumpism provides sufficient protection for their long-term goals.
If the world’s richest man cannot maintain stable relations with the movement he helped elect, what kind of confidence can lesser allies maintain in their own positions?
This uncertainty creates incentives for hedging and defection that weaken the very coalition strength needed for effective governance.
The ideological ramifications outweigh short-term political maneuvering. Musk’s journey from skeptic to backer to adversary underscores how fleeting elite allegiance can be within populist movements. His early support stemmed more from strategic positioning than a sincere dedication to principles that might challenge his corporate interests.
Once those tensions surfaced—be it excessive government spending, regulatory constraints, or immigration policy—his priorities became unmistakably clear.
This pattern threatens the entire project of populist governance. If successful movements inevitably attract elite supporters whose real allegiance lies elsewhere, then victory becomes the prelude to betrayal.
The challenge involves distinguishing genuine converts from opportunistic allies while maintaining sufficient elite support to govern effectively. Trump’s harsh response to Musk’s defection suggests recognition that failing to discipline wayward allies encourages broader abandonment.
Though Trump and Musk are far from conservative, the stakes of this feud extend beyond this presidential term and toward the future of any sustained right-of-center movement in America. JD Vance’s careful positioning during this crisis reveals someone thinking about coalition management in a post-Trump era, where the movement must either develop sustainable relationships with technological and financial elites or accept permanent opposition from those quarters. His diplomatic language preserves options while his ultimate loyalty demonstrates principles that cannot be compromised.
If there ever is to be a resolution to this conflict, it will establish a precedent for how future populist movements handle elite resistance and internal dissent. Successful governance requires both principled commitment and tactical flexibility. Wisdom is necessary when trying to distinguish those negotiable differences from fundamental betrayals.
Trump’s response to Musk’s escalating provocations have tested the mettle of a movement already having a hard time maintaining discipline. Can this movement hold off descending into destructive purges that weaken its governing capacity?
Ultimately, this spectacular feud acts as a proving ground—testing whether populist principles can survive contact with the power elite or whether the corrupting influence of Washington will transform even the fiercest reformers into protectors of the establishment they once opposed.
The outcome will determine not merely the success of Trump’s second term but the viability of populist governance as a sustained alternative to elite dominance.
Part of the solution to make the American labor force more competitive with the illegals is to reduce the costs to Americans. In particular, abolish Obama care, flatten the tax rates and greatly increase the minimum earnings before taxes kick in, and finally, reduce the cost of transportation by rolling EPA emissions and NHTSB safety regs back to the year 2000, reducing the cost of cars.
The other side of the coin is to eliminate all government benefits to illegals. It is an obscenity to have Americans taxed for benefits to illegal invaders who are working for pay under the table.
"The broader challenge involves implementing economic patriotism within a political system designed to serve global capital."
And perhaps even broader would be trying to do ANYTHING good for the common man within a political system designed to serve global capital.
I never subscribe on a paid basis based on a single post, but I'll be watching your stack very closely Mr. Leary.