The fencing concession for Donald Trump's inauguration as the 45th president of the United States would be a good thing to own. Forty-eight hours before the final branding of Mr. Trump as the most powerful human being on Earth, one of the most security-conscious inaugurations in American history had begun to tighten its grip, swaddling Washington in traffic restrictions, hard and soft checkpoints, and 30,000 police and armed guards. That's not including Mr. Trump's most aggressive supporters, who, as Mark Sommerfeld's pictures here make clear, are not beyond taking protester control into their own hands. That happened in front of the Lincoln Memorial, by then increasingly flanked by large electronic Make America Great Again! billboards. Lincoln, who had his doubts about how great mortal men could ever be, has to be turning in his grave back in Springfield, Ill.
Then there's the outhouse controversy: Omnipresent inauguration-day porta-potties, standing at attention like ranks of loyal soldiers, have had their logos (Don's Johns) taped over, ostensibly to conform to rules prohibiting advertising. But while now-President Trump tweeted that masses of people were pouring in to Washington to celebrate his swearing-in, his relationship with factual truth seems as tentative as ever: The Washington Post reports a less-then-fervent inaugural reaction to the new President in the city, including several inaugural ball cancellations, reduced event attendance, lower-than-A-list entertainment, and even fewer bars extending their hours for the inaugural afterparty than has been the case in other years.
The Trump team has reportedly spent $200-million (U.S.) on the inauguration (half of that on security), making it the most expensive in history – but even Mr. Trump, 70, was promising to make it an early night, attending three official balls to Mr. Obama's legendary 10 on the evening that the now-beloved ex-prez was sworn in. Partly that's the city – Mr. Trump took only 4 per cent of the votes in liberal Washington – and partly its his unpopularity: He enters office with a 40-per-cent-approval rating, the lowest of any modern incoming commander-in-chief.
But wait to see how he reports his own party: The master of expansion and distraction will make the best of it, and then some. As for what will follow, now that he's actually in power, we can only do what these photographs and the people in them are doing: Wait, and watch, and bear witness to what happens next.
