Donald Trump turns aviation tragedy into new front in the culture wars

He began his remarks with a somber tone. "This is a dark and painful night for our nation's capital and our nation's history—a terrible tragedy," Donald Trump stated in a room packed with reporters. "As a nation, we grieve for every precious soul taken so suddenly."

He requested those present at the Thursday press conference to join him in a moment of silence, reflecting on the 67 lives lost the previous evening. However, this moment proved to be the calm before the storm. Almost immediately, the tone shifted from mourning to anger.

The US President then launched into a tirade of accusations, quickly assigning blame for the accident to others. "We don't know what caused the crash," he admitted, "but we have some very strong opinions and ideas that I think we might express now." His strongest opinion? That progressive policies allowed incompetent people to fill crucial positions.

He mocked the Federal Aviation Administration's (FAA) "diversity push," claiming the agency was too focused on inclusivity, wanting severely disabled people to become air traffic controllers. He insisted that air traffic controllers needed to be "gifted, natural-born geniuses," implying that disabled individuals could not be geniuses. Trump also directly attacked former Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg, sarcastically calling him a "real winner" before cursing from the podium: "He's a disaster. Now he's just spouting nonsense."

Has a US President ever used such vulgar language to insult political opponents while attempting to console a grieving nation after a terrible tragedy? Just a few miles from where Trump was ranting, divers were still in the cold, dark waters of the Potomac River, undertaking the unimaginable task of searching for remains, hoping to bring some solace to the families who had lost loved ones. While they worked in silence, the Commander-in-Chief used his platform not to acknowledge their efforts, nor to order flags flown at half-staff to honor the victims, but to express political views.

Faced with such a tragedy, most politicians would avoid direct partisan attacks—either because they find it distasteful or because they believe the public would find it distasteful. Trump has no such qualms. To a hammer, everything is a nail. To Trump, tragedy is an opportunity—to play politics. To denounce what he sees as one of America’s greatest ills: the push for diversity.

When asked for evidence that diversity hiring led to the crash, Trump simply replied: "It's very possible." When asked again, he answered: "Because I have common sense, okay? Unfortunately, a lot of people don't." If it turned out that individuals involved in the tragedy were hired without meeting the accepted standards for the position, Trump might feel vindicated. But there is no evidence that this was the case. The staff working in the control tower that night must now be under immense psychological pressure, having witnessed and participated in such a catastrophic event. Then, the President suggests that incompetence was the cause of the accident, which can only exacerbate their pain.

In recent years, the culture war over "woke" policies has intensified, and Trump's instinct is to constantly fuel the flames. He has been committed to overturning policies designed to address systemic disadvantages by providing opportunities to marginalized groups. He argues that these policies are unfair and lead to lowered standards. He is not alone. His ally, Elon Musk, has also actively promoted this narrative. A year ago, the billionaire sparked outrage by criticizing United Airlines and Boeing for their efforts to hire non-white pilots and factory workers. Musk even deliberately spelled the DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) acronym as "DIE," writing on X: "It will take a plane crashing and killing hundreds of people for them to change this crazy DIE policy."

The idea that diversity is prioritized over competence has taken root in the MAGA movement. Thus, when this tragedy occurred, Trump almost instinctively blamed DEI policies—even though he offered no evidence to support this claim. A similar reaction occurred after wildfires ravaged Los Angeles. The tragedy was quickly politicized, and the city's fire chief bore the brunt of the criticism. Kristin Crowley, a 22-year veteran of the Los Angeles Fire Department and the first LGBTQ fire chief in the department's history, became a target of conservative commentator Megyn Kelly. Kelly called her a "fat lesbian" and railed against the department for being too focused on diversity, claiming that the department was run by "overweight, out-of-shape women." It was cruel, personal, language.

Yet, it is indicative of how much the Overton Window—the range of topics and arguments that are politically acceptable to the mainstream—has shifted in America, that such rhetoric no longer shocks the public. Trump argues that America should be "colorblind," a true meritocracy, and that diversity is not a goal in itself. But regardless of one’s views on DEI programs, Trump’s response to this tragedy is most telling about his leadership.

Before the start of his second term, there were questions about whether Trump would soften his stance. Would winning reelection—including the popular vote and stronger support from minority groups—satisfy his ego? Would he become more conciliatory, especially in moments that call for conciliation? His reaction to this tragedy gives us a clear answer. Trump remains the same politician he has always been. He sees every day, every event, as an opportunity to advance his agenda, to shape America in the way he wants, and to attack his political enemies. Donald Trump will never stay somber for long.