The presidency as theatre: America’s age of False Fronts

In “False Front,” historian Kenneth Lowande exposes one of Washington’s most deeply embedded legends: that today’s president serves as an “imperial” ruler, exercising their authority through orders and actions that require no authorization from Congress. Lowande opens a window, however, onto something far more ominous and far more barren. Today, presidential authority can be merely a prop—a gesture laden with pomp and ceremony, stripped bare and devoid of meaning.

The executive order, a symbol of limited yet absolute power, has become an embarrassing picture. These orders have been created not to affect policy realignment but to create an appearance. They placate the base and generate headlines. They offer the illusion of policy change within a body that is irretrievably powerless to deliver it. In a polarised era in which Congress is gridlocked, the presidency thrives in appearance.

The significance of this act is so fatal simply because it is so trivial. It fails not loudly. It succeeds as it was intended to: in reputation. The failure is not due to a lack of policy. It is in the education of the public to confuse symbols of strength for strength itself.

Take, for example, the well-publicized executive order to close Guantanamo Bay in Cuba signed by President Barack Obama just a few days after he took office. This is a moment of moral break, of reclaiming legality and human rights. The cameras were rolling, of course. Applause rang out. The world let out a collective sigh of relief.

But the decree was merely a facade.

It was known from the start that with the ink still wet on the paper, Congressional opposition, landmines of legislation, and red tape would conspire to keep the doors of Guantanamo open. Nothing was established regarding an enforcement mechanism. No political capital was invested in advancing the agenda. The real accomplishment of the executive order was unrelated to the shutdown of the offshore detention facility. It was concerned with restoring America’s image. And Guantanamo remains open after all these years.

At the opposite end of the ideological spectrum, yet in accordance with the same dramatic imperative, Donald Trump offered his own performance. As widely reported, Trump signed an “executive order that loosens restraints imposed by Obama on the flow of military-grade equipment to local authorities,” making it clear that, with this new policy, “law and order” would no longer be ignored.

The truth, however, according to Lowande, was much thinner. The equipment did not flow. The infrastructure was not given precedence. The machinery for implementing this policy was left idle. But it worked in this spectacle. Police unions were appeased. The rank and file were energized. The impression of strength was created without delivering on it.

But perhaps the most telling is Joe Biden’s administration, which embodies compassionate symbolism without conflict.

In 2022, Joe Biden unveiled a broad presidential order to forgive up to $20,000 in student loan debt for millions of Americans. The move was hailed as a revolutionary step for a generation devastated by predatory loans and frozen wages. The pronouncement was accompanied by lofty talk of justice and equality. At least for a period of time, joy was overwhelming in Democratic ranks.

The Biden administration was well aware that the legal foundation was precariously thin. The Higher Education Relief Opportunities for Students (HEROES) Act, intended for use during times of war, was bent to address what was essentially a peacetime debt crisis. The Biden administration’s effort to create an escape hatch through legislation was little more than a token gesture. When the Supreme Court struck it down, the Biden administration feigned outrage but was not surprised. The political bundle had already been harvested.

Again, the order achieved its intended purpose. It failed through policy and succeeded through performance.

What Lowande shows in all of these examples is not incompetence but cynical adaptability. The presidency has adapted to function through illusion. The executive order is now a performative gesture—a smoke bomb meant to obscure the evidence of decay. It’s intended to upstage the headlines.

This is governance simplified to reputation management.

But it’s not just inefficiency. It’s intentional, delusion. Citizens are presented with victories instead of results. This leads to smaller political aspirations. This leads people to become cynical and unbelievably ignorant. Leaders become a branding business. Democracy turns into a sideline.

Empires lose their credibility when their institutions are empty shells holding a replica of life rather than serving any purpose beyond their own existence. False Front demonstrates that the American presidency is already there. It is a stage illuminated by executive orders, which shine for a moment before extinguishing, leaving the machinery alone.

The problem is that too many Americans are confused about the difference between the limelight and actual power. They attend the signing ceremonies. They share the headlines. They wait for the change that never comes.

But what remains undone in this system fixated on accolades is, in fact, “governance” in its proper sense: legislation, enforcement, redistribution, and restraint. The presidency is not imperial. It is performative. This performance is all that remains.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.