The Presidency Is for Sale — And the Trumps Are Selling Fast

Jul 11, 2025

CHAPTER I: THE GOLD, THE DOME, THE BAGS OF CASH… AND THEN THIS

Let’s start with a little history—because in America, corruption isn’t new. But this? This is a sequel nobody ordered, shot on a soundstage built entirely out of bribes.

In 1869, two speculators named Gould and Fisk—who happened to be connected to President Ulysses S. Grant by way of his brother-in-law—tried to corner the gold market. It didn’t end well. Cue the bank failures, cue the public outrage, cue the smell of scorched democracy.

Fast forward to the 1920s. Warren Harding’s Secretary of the Interior, Albert Fall, leases out naval oil reserves to his friends in private industry—in secret, of course—and pockets enough kickbacks to make the Teapot Dome scandal the worst political crime of the century.

Until Richard Nixon said, hold my scotch.

It’s 1972. There are executives flying in from Houston with suitcases full of untraceable cash, stuffing them into filing cabinets, all to re-elect a man who, it turns out, didn’t actually need the money to win—just the paranoia. That’s Watergate. That’s the template.

Now. With that in mind, let’s talk about Donald John Trump.

Because if Nixon ran a campaign like a mafia accountant, Trump is running the entire American presidency like it’s a family franchise—and we’re all the unpaid interns.

This isn’t a petty graft. This is open-air, designer-labeled kleptocracy: a president selling access like commemorative coins on QVC—except the buyers are autocrats, and the product is us.

It’s a golf course in Oman. A hotel in Saudi Arabia. A high-rise in Vietnam. It’s a $400 million private jet from Qatar delivered to the White House with the subtlety of a mobster sending flowers to a juror. And if that feels like a bribe, it’s because it is. But bribes require rules. This is lawless.

We’re in new territory now. This isn’t a man profiting from the presidency. This is a presidency constructed to profit the man.

You can’t call this a conflict of interest. Because a conflict of interest suggests there are still two competing interests involved. There aren’t. There’s just one: money. Everything else—foreign policy, domestic enforcement, justice, media, regulation, the Constitution—those are just delivery systems for the cash.

He’s not even pretending anymore. There’s no middleman. No lobbyist. No gray area. It’s a straight line from a Trump-branded sneaker to American foreign policy. From a meme coin with his face on it to a paused federal prosecution. From a media lawsuit to a “settlement” that ends up paying for his legal defense.

This isn’t corruption-adjacent. It is corruption. The kind our founders wrote angry letters about. The kind that gets nations sold off piece by piece until one day you wake up and realize the flag still flies, but it’s under foreign ownership.

And here’s the part that ought to scare the hell out of all of us: it’s working.

CHAPTER II: HOW TO BUY A PRESIDENT IN 2025 (Some Restrictions May Apply)

Let’s say you’re an oil-rich autocracy with a problem.

Maybe it’s sanctions. Maybe it’s bad press. Maybe your Crown Prince dismembered a journalist and now Brussels won’t return your calls.

What do you do?

Well, in most of the post–World War II order, you’d hire a lobbying firm. You’d spend a few million greasing the wheels on K Street, hoping some mid-level deputy assistant secretary would answer your call. Maybe you’d sponsor a think tank panel. Maybe you’d host a conference in Dubai and hope John Bolton shows up.

But in Trump’s second term, there’s a faster way.

You build a hotel.

Or a golf course.

Or—you send a $400 million private Boeing jet to the United States and say: this is for the President. Remember that $400 million jet from Qatar? That wasn’t charity—it was a down payment.

And President Trump? He took it.

No blind trust. No ethics review. No Oval Office announcement about America’s values. Just an open-palmed thank you to a foreign government in exchange for—what? Better standing? Relaxed restrictions? A little more leverage in the region?

Here’s what followed: the United Arab Emirates and Saudi Arabia—Qatar’s regional rivals—immediately began shopping for ways to outdo the gesture. This wasn’t diplomacy. It was an arms race made of golf carts and development contracts. It was foreign policy by bidding war.

And the Trumps were holding the gavel.

In India, the president’s real estate empire is booming—luxury towers backed by oligarchs tied to the Modi government. In Serbia and Albania, deals for new Trump properties have been inked in the past six months. In Pakistan, the government signed a “letter of intent” to create a national crypto reserve—with a Trump-backed firm leading the way.

Let me say that again, because it reads like a bad parody: a nuclear-armed nation has agreed to let the sitting U.S. president's private business help manage its national crypto reserve.

And yet, somehow, that's not even the biggest problem.

Because the real estate is just half the transaction. The payoffs come dressed as policy.

The Foreign Corrupt Practices Act—America’s foundational anti-bribery law—has been frozen in place, its enforcement mechanisms gutted.
The Treasury Department has terminated implementation of the Corporate Transparency Act’s shell company registry, which was supposed to finally reveal who owns the anonymous LLCs funneling dark money into U.S. assets.
The DOJ’s Kleptocracy Asset Recovery Initiative has been dissolved—just… gone.
Task forces that once seized stolen assets from corrupt foreign officials have been shut down.
And Pam Bondi, now Attorney General, has made it very clear that investigating presidential financial misconduct is no longer on the menu.

All of it—every broken safeguard, every dismantled office, every regulation turned to dust—has a real-world consequence: America is now the cheapest geopolitical date on the planet.

If you’re a foreign dictator trying to curry favor with the United States, the process has never been easier. Just ask the Trump family, who’ve bragged that demand for their name has never been higher.

And he’s right.

Because in 2025, the Trump brand isn’t steaks or towers—it’s the scent of power, bottled and sold.

This isn’t the scent of corruption—it’s the source.

Wrapped in gold leaf. Branded in block caps. And available—at a discount—for regimes willing to pay up.

CHAPTER III: AMERICAN JUSTICE, FOR SALE (Now Accepting Crypto, Settlements, and Merger Approvals)

If you’re still thinking of corruption as something that happens behind closed doors in smoky backrooms, you’re missing the point. In Trump’s second term, it’s done in daylight. On camera. With a receipt.

Let’s start with what used to be a sacred cow: the free press.

In late 2024, then-presidential candidate Kamala Harris appeared on 60 Minutes. The interview wasn’t particularly unusual—until Donald Trump cried foul. He accused CBS and its parent company, Paramount Global, of deceptively editing the segment. Legal experts, including many with Republican credentials, called the claim baseless, politically motivated, and constitutionally dubious.

But here’s the thing. This wasn’t about the law. It was about leverage.

At the same time, Paramount Global was in the middle of merger negotiations with Skydance Media—a $28 billion deal that required a range of federal regulatory clearances, including from the FCC and the Department of Justice. That’s the part of the U.S. government run by the man who just sued them.

And just like that, the math changed.

In early 2025, Paramount quietly settled. They paid $16 million, not to a government agency, not to a media watchdog group, not to a neutral third party—but to a Trump-controlled fund earmarked for his presidential library and personal legal fees.

Let’s be clear: this wasn’t a correction. It was a bribe. It was the price of not blowing up the merger.

This is how the game is played now. You want your deal to go through? Pay the man. Doesn’t matter if the lawsuit is real. Doesn’t matter if the claim is nonsense. What matters is who signs off—and who can blow it up.

Which brings us to ABC News.

Different network, same strategy. Trump filed another legally flimsy suit, this time over coverage of his immigration policy. Again, legal observers called the case laughable. Again, the company caved—$15 million and a “statement of regret.”

That’s $31 million from two of America’s biggest news outlets—quietly funneled into the president’s legal fund while his DOJ and FCC controlled their fate.

And just in case that wasn’t diversified enough, Trump expanded the racket to include crypto.

Introducing the $TRUMP meme coin—a digital token launched by supporters, then embraced and promoted by the president himself. This wasn’t a joke. This was a monetized loyalty program. The more tokens you bought, the closer you got. VIP dinners. Access. Photo ops. Policy influence disguised as fandom.

And then came the scandal.

One of the largest buyers of $TRUMP—a crypto investor under federal investigation for fraud, market manipulation, and money laundering—was found to have purchased $30 million worth of the coin.

Within weeks, the Justice Department paused the investigation. Not cleared. Not resolved. Just… paused.

What would you call that?

Because here’s what it looks like: $30 million worth of hush money paid in blockchain, rewarded with prosecutorial silence.

This isn’t hypothetical. This isn’t inferred. This is documented, confirmed, and publicly reported.

And under Attorney General Pam Bondi, the Department of Justice has turned into a toll booth. You want to avoid prosecution? There’s a price. You want to keep your network? There’s a price. You want to merge, to broadcast, to breathe? There’s a price.

The American justice system—once blind, now blindfolded and auctioned off.

Because when the presidency becomes a brand, every institution becomes a vending machine. Insert money, receive impunity.

CHAPTER IV: IMMUNITY, LOYALTY, AND THE END OF ACCOUNTABILITY (Or: The Law Is Totally on My Side, Redux)

In November 2016, just days after winning the presidency, Donald Trump was asked about potential conflicts of interest between his office and his business empire.

His response?

“The president can’t have a conflict of interest.”

At the time, it sounded like a dodge. A bluff. A clumsy interpretation of Article II wrapped in bravado.

But today, after the U.S. Supreme Court’s 2024 decision in Trump v. United States, it’s not just a soundbite. It’s close to the law of the land.

In a 6–3 ruling, the Court’s conservative majority declared that a president is immune from criminal prosecution for any “official act” performed while in office. The decision was vague where it mattered, broad where it shouldn’t be, and carved a new legal category of untouchability into the foundation of American government.

The ruling didn’t just chill future investigations—it froze them.

It told every federal prosecutor, every inspector general, every watchdog, every congressional oversight committee: Proceed at your own peril. Because if the president can call it “official,” the courts can call it off-limits.

And if that weren’t enough, Trump had the foresight to install someone who’d carry that ruling like a bludgeon: Pam Bondi, his handpicked Attorney General and longtime political ally.

If Merrick Garland was too cautious, Bondi is aggressively loyal. And she’s wasting no time turning legal ambiguity into absolute power:

DOJ investigations into Trump Organization financial practices? Closed.
White-collar crime task forces built under the Obama and Biden years? Dissolved.
The FCPA—the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act—America’s primary tool for prosecuting international bribery? Frozen. Not repealed. Just not enforced.
Ongoing inquiries into pay-to-play political donations by foreign nationals? Marked “non-priority.”
The Kleptocracy Asset Recovery Initiative—once used to seize billions in stolen foreign assets—abolished quietly in April.

There’s a phrase we use for this, one that predates Watergate and outlives partisanship: obstruction of justice. But in 2025, there’s a problem.

If the obstruction is part of an “official act,” it’s now protected.

Let that sink in.

The man who spent years being investigated for obstruction has now been handed the power to define his own conduct as lawful—simply by virtue of the title he holds. President.

Checks and balances? They don’t work if one of the branches has both the checkbook and the eraser.

Oversight? It doesn’t mean anything if subpoenas are optional and legal immunity is a perk of the job.

And let’s not pretend this ends with Trump. This ruling—this weaponization of constitutional ambiguity—will live on. It’s a legal boomerang that will be picked up by every future executive who wants to turn their enemies into suspects and their friends into customers.

But for now, it lives here. In a Justice Department run by Bondi. Under a president who markets power like a commodity and treats accountability like a hostile witness. With a Supreme Court that has redefined what it means to be above the law—and called it precedent.

And the rest of us? We're left watching the guardrails fall off in real time. Not in whispers or leaks, but in court rulings, press conferences, and official memos.

Because the president doesn’t just think he’s immune.

He might be.

CHAPTER V: THE FOREIGN POLICY GRIFT (And What It’s Costing Us)

Let’s get something straight. The United States doesn’t have a foreign policy anymore. It has a loyalty rewards program, and the only qualification for entry is whether you’re willing to do business with the president’s family.

Take Qatar. In May 2025, the Qatari government delivered a $400 million Boeing jet as a “gift” to the United States. It was accepted without fanfare, ethics review, or public explanation. It just… happened. Like most things do now. Critics called it a bribe. Trump called it diplomacy. Either way, it worked.

Because almost immediately, Qatar’s rivals—the UAE and Saudi Arabia—began scrambling to outbid them. More real estate deals. More resort agreements. More luxury licenses with the Trump brand. Not as a matter of competition—but as a matter of survival. When influence is sold to the highest bidder, you make sure you're not the second highest.

It’s happening everywhere. In India, developers close to the Modi government are pushing new Trump towers. In Pakistan, the government signed an agreement to explore a national crypto reserve with a Trump-affiliated firm. In Serbia and Albania, Trump hotels are in development. In Vietnam, it’s golf. In Hungary, it’s praise from Viktor Orbán tied to a Trump joint venture in Budapest.

And in case anyone missed the point, Eric Trump spelled it out: “We’re the hottest brand in the world right now.”

He’s not wrong.

Because in 2025, the “Trump brand” doesn’t mean real estate. It means access. You don’t need to change your human rights record. You don’t need to embrace democracy. You don’t even need to speak English. You just need to cut a deal.

Buy a tower, and get a softened tariff. Sponsor a project, and get your sanctions lifted. Host a Trump-branded summit, and maybe—just maybe—the president of the United States will call you a “visionary leader” on Truth Social.

This isn’t international diplomacy. It’s an auction.

And what’s being sold isn’t just access. It’s America itself.

We used to have a foreign policy grounded in ideals. We conditioned aid on human rights, linked trade to democratic norms, and stood up to tyrants even when it hurt. Now we condition everything on how quickly you can wire funds to a Trump holding company.

Ask Turkey. When New York City Mayor Eric Adams was under federal investigation for soliciting illegal campaign donations from Turkish nationals, the Trump DOJ dropped the case. Why? No public explanation. But a week earlier, Turkey’s envoy had attended a fundraiser at a Trump golf club.

This is the new normal. And it’s metastasizing.

Foreign leaders now see that you don’t need diplomacy. You don’t need alignment. You don’t need to be an ally. You just need to be a customer.

And here’s the part we can’t afford to ignore:

This isn’t just corruption. It’s precedent.

If this becomes the model—if influence and policy are openly for sale—then what separates us from the very regimes we once tried to reform?

When we send arms to Riyadh in exchange for resort licenses…
When we trade sanction relief for real estate contracts…
When our courts shield the president and our laws defer to his bank account…

…what, exactly, are we still exporting? Because it sure as hell isn’t democracy.

The world is watching. And they’re not confused. They’re adapting.

Autocrats understand what we’ve become. They know the price of doing business in Trump’s America. They know which palm to grease. And they know the rules don’t apply anymore—not to them, and certainly not to him.

The presidency was never supposed to be profitable.

It was supposed to be powerful. Responsible. Temporary. Constrained by law and shaped by ethics.

And now?

Now it’s a business model. One that’s being franchised across the world.

We don’t just risk losing the integrity of American governance.

We risk making corruption our most successful export.

And if Congress won’t act—and the courts won’t protect us—then it’s up to the only branch that’s left: the voters.