Kelly and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Joseph Dunford, both marines, decided to go in his stead and represent the U.S. delegation. Everything was going to be fine—until Trump turned on the television. That’s when he saw other dignitaries, including French president Emmanuel Macron, German chancellor Angela Merkel, and Canadian prime minister Justin Trudeau, arriving in the rain at other memorial sites outside Paris. Back in the United States, cable news and social media were abuzz with commentary about Trump’s decision to skip the ceremony because of rain. Democrats accused him of disrespecting fallen veterans.
John Kerry, the former secretary of state and a decorated navy veteran, tweeted, “President @realDonaldTrump a no-show because of raindrops? Those veterans the president didn’t bother to honor fought in the rain, in the mud, in the snow—& many died in trenches for the cause of freedom. Rain didn’t stop them & it shouldn’t have stopped an American president.” The criticism of Trump was worldwide and merciless. Nicholas Soames, a grandson of Winston Churchill’s and a member of the British Parliament, called Trump “pathetic” and “inadequate” because he “couldn’t even defy the weather to pay his respects to The Fallen.”
As was often the case with Trump’s critics, the commentary got out of hand. There were suggestions from others that the president had skipped the cemetery visit simply because he was afraid to get his hair wet. Kelly and Dunford, meanwhile, appeared dignified and downright presidential as they toured the cemetery with a handful of other Americans and marked the anniversary. They stopped at the marines’ monument atop the hill to pay their respects. Kelly made solemn remarks there about his son Robert, a lieutenant in the U.S. Marines who had been killed in Afghanistan at age twenty-nine.
As Trump saw Kelly getting positive attention for visiting the memorial, he erupted. He vented to aides that his absence made him look “terrible” in the media. “I could’ve fucking gone!” Trump said. “I was willing to go! They’re killing me for it!” Trump took out his anger on Fuentes. “Your general should’ve convinced me to go,” the president screamed at the deputy chief of staff, referring to Kelly. He faulted Kelly for not having the political savvy to foresee this public relations nightmare and for not persuading him to take the motorcade to the cemetery. “What a stupid decision,” Trump told Fuentes.
“Sir, we made the best decision we could,” Fuentes replied, not wanting to stoke the president by pushing back.
Later, talking to other advisers, Trump shirked any responsibility for bailing on the cemetery visit. “It was John Kelly’s decision [that] I couldn’t go,” Trump said. “I would’ve been happy to go. I don’t care about the rain.”
On November 11, Trump was still smarting when he attended an Armistice Day ceremony at the foot of the Arc de Triomphe, the Roman-style arch that stands as the grandest war memorial in Paris. More than sixty world leaders attended to celebrate the hundredth anniversary of bugles and church bells sounding throughout France to mark the end of World War I. Before the ceremony began, dozens of the visiting dignitaries marched shoulder to shoulder along the Champs-Élysées toward the arch as military jets left streaks of red, white, and blue smoke in the Parisian sky. But Trump did not participate in the march, nor did Russian president Vladimir Putin. They arrived at the arch instead via individual motorcades. Bundled up in a black overcoat, Trump took his seat next to Merkel, a few chairs down from Putin. Trump was in the unusual position of not being the center of attention. He was a mere guest; this was Macron’s show. The choreography was consistent with the outsized role the French played in World War I relative to the United States, but Trump felt slighted to be given a less prominent role.
Speaking French, Macron delivered a speech that journalists interpreted as a pointed rebuke of Trump, as well as of Putin. In the darkest hours of World War I, Macron said, “that vision of France as a generous nation, of France as a project, of France promoting universal values, was the exact opposite of the egotism of a people who look after only their interests, because patriotism is the exact opposite of nationalism: nationalism is a betrayal of it. In saying ‘our interests first and who cares about the rest!’ you wipe out what’s most valuable about a nation, what brings it alive, what leads it to greatness and what is most important: its moral values.” Macron warned that “the old demons are reappearing” and summoned the world’s political leaders to “break with the new ‘treason of the intellectuals,’ which is at work and fuels untruths, accepts the injustice consuming our peoples and sustains extremes and present-day obscurantism.”
Trump complained to advisers about Macron’s speech but didn’t hit back. He attended a luncheon with the other world leaders and then gave a speech of his own at Suresnes American Cemetery and Memorial. Suresnes is closer to Paris than Aisne-Marne and was the resting place of 1,541 U.S. service members. Trump delivered a ten-minute speech in the rain, ditching his umbrella and joking that everyone was “getting drenched,” as if he were trying to make amends for the day before.
“The American and French patriots of World War I embody the timeless virtues of our two republics: Honor and courage; strength and valor; love and loyalty; grace and glory,” Trump said. “It is our duty to preserve the civilization they defended and to protect the peace they so nobly gave their lives to secure one century ago.”
Trump then headed to the airport, where he boarded Air Force One for the flight home to Washington. The next day, November 12, Veterans’ Day was observed in the United States, but Trump opted against paying his respects at Arlington National Cemetery, a tradition for presidents—something he later acknowledged he should have done. Instead, Trump spent the holiday inside the White House sulking about the poor media coverage of his Paris trip and tweeting about “the prospect of Presidential Harassment by the Dems” once they take control of the House in January.
On November 13, Trump came out swinging with an early-morning Twitter broadside against Macron. He wrote, in reference to World Wars I and II, “They were starting to learn German in Paris before the U.S. came along.” He assailed the French for “not fair” trade policies that make it more difficult to sell U.S. wines in France than to sell French wines in the United States. And he said Macron “suffers from a very low Approval Rating in France.”
“By the way, there is no country more Nationalist than France, very proud people—and rightfully so!” Trump added. “MAKE FRANCE GREAT AGAIN!”
Reading Trump’s tweets in Paris, Macron was concerned. He immediately called his envoy in Washington, Gérard Araud, and asked what to do. The ambassador called one of his contacts in the White House who advised, “Please do nothing. He’ll have this outburst, but afterwards, if you don’t answer, it’s over. Please tell Macron not to react, not to bother.” This adviser explained that Trump had lashed out at Macron because of media coverage of the French president’s speech: “Trump doesn’t want to lose in the media, especially on Fox. If he appears weak on Fox, that’s totally unacceptable.” Araud passed this advice on to Paris, and Macron followed it.