Fake News: On the Frontline of Trump’s "Info War"
The Trump Administration's Successes & Failures in Shaping Public Opinion, Online & IRL.
By Tom Everill
On the morning of 3 January, 2026, at Mar-a-Lago, U.S. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth declared to the cameras: "America is back". Hours earlier, American forces had captured Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro in a late-night special operations raid on his compound in Caracas.
"This is America First. This is peace through strength. And the United States War Department is proud to help deliver it. Welcome to 2026."
However, as "narco-terrorist" Maduro and his wife await proceedings in a Manhattan federal court, questions linger regarding what the operation truly achieved. Its muted results - perhaps reflecting a pragmatic avoidance by Trump of an Iraq-style occupation (something intolerable to a war-weary American public) - leave unclear how the raid advanced its stated aim of stemming Venezuelan narcotics flows to the U.S. - or any other strategic objective.
As it stands, Maduro loyalists remain in power, Venezuelan drug cartels continue their operations, and the extent of newfound direct American influence over the country remains uncertain. Yet one effect is evident: the raid's role in signalling to non-compliant world leaders that while they are unlikely to be deposed via ground invasion, they are (like Maduro) at-risk of being swept away in the night by U.S. special forces.
Beyond geopolitics, the Caracas raid is also a form of domestic signalling. Having soured on Trump post-Epstein revelations, right-leaning X accounts were quick to praise the president's stark demonstration of American power: 'everyone gangster until the hegemon starts doing hegemon shit,' wrote one. Such reactions point to a key domestic objective in shoring up support among the more nationalistic (often younger) strata of Trump's base ahead of the 2026 midterms.
This article argues that rather than a tactical anomaly, this supplementary perception-shaping function evidences one strand of a broader playbook (codified in Section 5). In doing so, it examines the administration's development and use of similar methods to reshape narratives and consolidate loyalty in service of Trump World.
1. Cue the Edits Viral White House and DHS social media posts, depicting immigration arrests set to Sabrina Carpenter tracks or the Pokémon theme song, likely serve a similar purpose to curated Venezuela optics. They are an appeal to the right-leaning, chronically-online, young male voter: those most viscerally affected by online "edits" and most enraged by recent revelations of the president's association with Jeffrey Epstein.
The term "edit" is used to describe social media posts consisting of curated collections of photos or videos, cut together and set to music. Although relatively amorphous / hard to define, edits are persuasive in how they condense decontextualised information into engaging, almost primal appeals to emotion. Subject matter ranges from innocuous celebrity or athlete "hype" edits to highly-engaging political propaganda.
While perhaps incomprehensible to older generations or those unfamiliar with more extreme corners of X, I believe a recent exchange between self-described "racist" influencer Nick Fuentes and Piers Morgan illustrates the influence this medium can exert. When Morgan asked, "what do you mean by Hitler is fucking cool", Fuentes responded: "the edits" - referring to social media content designed to evoke admiration for the Third Reich.
Shared by the official DHS X account, a recent government example shows a lone penguin wandering into the mountains away from its colony. Backed by filmmaker Warner Herzog's narration, it is framed as a metaphor for American courage and frontier spirit.
The Trump Administration's intuitive understanding of edits (and digital messaging broadly) - evidenced by the sentiment shift it affected online post-Venezuela - was not acquired overnight. Instead, it is the product of decades of trial and error as Trump constructed and refined his business and political personas.
2. The PR Prince To contextualise Trump's use of meme culture and "virality" as political tools, it is first necessary to understand his decades-long attention-driven approach to public relations.
During the 1980s, "The Donald" deliberately cultivated personal celebrity to consolidate his business empire: high-profile real estate deals (such as Trump Tower in 1983), extravagant displays of wealth covered extensively by tabloids, and frequent media appearances quickly established him as a symbol of 1980s success and excess.
Trump built on early '80s fame with the release of his bestselling book The Art of the Deal in 1987. In it, he articulated the principles guiding his media and PR philosophy - arguing that coverage, regardless of tone, was essential:
"…from a bottom-line perspective, bad publicity is sometimes better than no publicity at all. Controversy, in short, sells."
He noted: "if you are a little different, or a little outrageous, or if you do things that are bold or controversial, the press is going to write about you." The benefits of visibility, he concluded, "far outweighed" the drawbacks, even when coverage was critical.
The pinnacle of Trump's pre-political fame arrived with the 2004 launch of The Apprentice, a wildly popular reality show that nationalised his celebrity. His signature "You're fired" catchphrase became iconic - and is echoed in later political use of disparaging, humorous nicknames for adversaries (think "Crooked Hillary") which became a staple of his messaging.
Reality TV exposure was complemented by numerous cameo appearances in films, television shows, and high-profile events. Readers may recall examples, including:
By repeatedly inserting himself into the American pop-culture zeitgeist, Trump laid the foundation for his presidential run. Though these appearances may now appear kitsch, they proved strategically valuable by allowing him to leverage existing name recognition in his political pivot.
3. The Meme King The philosophy saw its first political application in the 2016 Republican primaries, attracting an unprecedented reaction both online and among the press. Embodying Art of the Deal-esque "controversy sells", the approach secured victory for Trump at the 2016 general election, as an adaptation would again in 2024.
(a) 2016: The "Twitter Election" Throughout the 2016 primaries, Trump directed a litany of insults and nicknames at establishment politicians, media figures and fellow Republican nominee hopefuls, spreading rapidly online. They include:
Trump would make countless further outlandish and controversial statements, baiting the media into wall-to-wall amplification of his messaging, at no cost. He branded Mexican immigrants as criminals and "rapists", vowed to build a border wall Mexico would "one hundred percent" pay for, and demanded a "complete shutdown of Muslims entering the United States."
Trump's consistent stoking of outrage, both through televised appearances and his Twitter presence, ensured attention remained firmly centred on himself. Once he secured the Republican nomination, the same strategy carried seamlessly into the general election, transforming social media into a central campaign arena for the first time. Thus, 2016 earned its label as the "Twitter Election".
However, lacking historical precedent (or due to a broad misreading of public sentiment), this behaviour did not immediately translate into widespread belief that the businessman could actually win. While 2016's electoral result may validate Elon Musk's, "the most entertaining outcome is the most likely" observation, it was not simply entertainment or "meme value" that won the election.
Aside from a savvy online strategy, the Trump Campaign's genius lies in its understanding of the contemporaneous American political mood - similar to those which concurrently underpinned the likes of Brexit and Italy's 'Five-Star' movement. The smearing of establishment figures was not arbitrary erraticism, but a means of creating a proxy (in Trump) through which the American public could enact revenge on a political and media class that it had come to view as decadent and out-of-touch.
This is exemplified by his now-iconic interjection in his second debate with Hillary Clinton. After Clinton declared it was "awfully good" someone with Trump's temperament was not in charge of American law and order, he interrupted: "Because you'd be in jail". The exchange was clipped and reposted incessantly online, rallying millions long disillusioned with this "decadent" elite of which Hillary was symbolic.
What makes Trump's populist support so striking is not that his claims lacked pre-existing public resonance, but that he - with his immense hereditary wealth - was the one making them. In a 2022 SNL performance, comedian Dave Chappelle claimed the President portrayed himself as an "honest liar" - elaborating:
"I've never seen a white male billionaire screaming at the top of his lungs, 'This whole system is rigged.' […] The moderator said, 'Well, Mr. Trump, if in fact the system is rigged, what would be your evidence?' He said, 'I know the system is rigged because I use it.'"
In other words, Trump's populist appeal was attained by signalling that while "yes", he too belonged to the elite, his in-group status made him best-equipped to identify and remove the rot emergent within it.
Trump recognised early-on that his campaign would trigger a defensive response from establishment media, and correctly concluded that it could not be countered through traditional political PR. He instead seized initiative by barraging the "fake news" media with attacks at every opportunity. In doing so, he not only discredited its onslaughts, but was able to sidestep legacy media entirely, accruing support online instead.
(b) 2024: The "Podcast Election" In 2024, Trump once again exploited opposition errors through a high-profile internet-centred campaign. An incumbent (and increasingly unpopular) Joe Biden was relentlessly targeted with attacks focussing on his apparent cognitive decline: "Sleepy Joe" replaced "Crooked Hillary" as the go-to attack line.
Following Biden's withdrawal as Democratic candidate, the Harris campaign opted for mostly short interviews - widely described on the right as "softball" - drawing criticism for a perceived aversion to confrontational and unscripted media.
Conversely, recognising the growing importance of a new medium, Trump appeared on a number of popular podcasts for hours-long conversations. His appearance on The Joe Rogan Experience garnered 26 million views on YouTube in its first 24 hours, surpassing 40 million over the next 4 days.
Despite bizarre debate performances ("they're eating the dogs") from a Trump who had seemingly lost the sharpness of eight years prior, his campaign's emphasis on "earned media" (organic, non-paid attention) proved persuasive enough to secure victory once more. Mainstream outlets responded by decrying the need for a "liberal Joe Rogan" - a politicised plea which more accurately reads as an admission of defeat by an increasingly irrelevant legacy media.
Electoral success aside, reliance on earned media was immensely cost-effective. The Harris Campaign reported roughly $1.6 billion in 'media' expenditures in 2024, compared with around $310 million by Trump. During the week of their first debate, Harris outspent Trump 20 to 1 on Meta (Facebook/Instagram) ads: $12.2 million vs. $611,000.
Trump's 2024 success thus extended beyond the ballot box to further validate his long-evolving PR and social media strategies. Through podcast appearances and viral PR stunts - like a day working at a McDonald's drive-thru - he was again able to counterintuitively portray himself as the more relatable candidate, in spite of his billions.
4. The Limitations of "Meme Governance" Readers will note a leap from 2016 to 2024 in the above section, deliberately skipping 2020. Rather than showing the success of Trump's messaging strategy, 2020 marks its first clear limitations - flaws which became even more evident after his 2025 return to office.
(a) 2020: The "Pandemic Election" & BLM "Kung Flu" National polling found that two major issues dominated the build-up to the 2020 election. The COVID-19 pandemic consistently ranked as voters' top issue across Republican, Democrat and independent respondents, while 'racism' (fuelled by George Floyd's killing and Black Lives Matter protests) ranked second among the latter two groups.
Trump's tendency to deflect criticism faltered amid the pandemic, where missteps and an air of unseriousness eroded confidence in his crisis management ability. As the World Health Organisation declared a public health emergency, the president downplayed the virus as a "little problem" and "very much under control" - messaging he could not sustain.
To deflect criticism ahead of the election, Trump reverted to familiar tactics: nicknames like "China Virus" and "Kung Flu" dominated headlines as blame was redirected toward China, Democrats, CDC Director Fauci, and the "fake news" media. These moves, effective in past controversies, failed to deliver in this instance.
Fiery, but Mostly Peaceful… In summer 2020, Trump sought to capitalise on the fallout from George Floyd's killing. He described BLM as a "symbol of hate" that encouraged looting and violence by "THUGS", and pressured Democrats over their failures to maintain law and order amid nationwide riots.
Again falling back on his playbook, Trump worked to discredit media criticism by highlighting biased coverage of the demonstrations. Objectively politicised framing - like CNN's infamous "FIERY BUT MOSTLY PEACEFUL PROTESTS" chyron - became commonplace, providing the president with ample ammunition.
Gallup polling from 2020 showed the share of adult Americans with a 'great deal' of trust in mass media collapsing to 16% among Democrats and a mere 4% among Republicans. The left-wing press' overt politicisation had backfired: as the public struggled to discerne fact from fiction, accusations of "woke" propaganda became effortlessly levelled, allowing Trump to blunt at least some of the genuine criticism he received.
While radicalising some, the media's self-inflicted damage was insufficient to influence large numbers of swing voters (or distract from pandemic failures). Viral footage of Floyd's death, which showed a white police officer kneeling on the unarmed Black man's neck for over nine minutes, had already provoked widespread, rightful disgust - outpacing Trump's ability to deflect. An apathetic Trump came to be seen as out-of-touch and incapable of de-escalating racial tensions, resulting in rejection at the polls.
2020 demonstrated that Trump's "deflect and distract" tactics lose potency when public discontent stems from his own actions or from issues where his position lacks majority support. As a sitting president, he no longer benefitted from shock-value attention. Instead, voters sought stability and competence - qualities his chaotic style undermined - and which Biden, an elderly career politician with vice-presidential experience, strongly embued.
This is underscored by Trump's 2024 victory, which succeeded once he could again attack an incumbent administration, rather than being forced to manage fallout from the decisions of his own.
(b) Trump 2.0: Israel, Epstein & Tariffs Israel First? A challenge unique to Trump's second term is a growing Republican divide over Israel, where sympathy for the Zionist state has been historically firm. This split is reflected in the rising popularity of figures like the aforementioned Nick Fuentes and his brand of 'America-First' conservatism, which frames American–Israeli relations through a lens of unnecessary and unjust subservience by the senior partner, particularly resonant among Gen-Z.
Trump's previous and ongoing pro-Israel stance (rooted in donor pressure, evangelical alignment, and personal ties to figures like Sheldon Adelson) increasingly clashes with this growing dissent. Recent open antisemitism by Tucker Carlson and Candace Owens has accelerated the divide, while online campaigns push to delegitimise pro-Israel Republicans by framing them as compromised by AIPAC funding.
Although the Trump Administration's brokering of the recent Gaza ceasefire offered some respite, it has not extinguished broader concerns over American–Israeli ties. The Caracas raid (and other initiatives like recently targeting Russia with sanctions over its trade with Iran) can be similarly read as efforts to satisfy these factions through fresh demonstrations of American power.
Strategic ambiguity has also been evident in the administration's wider Israel policy. The October 2025 ban on Israeli politician Itamar Ben-Gvir from entering the U.S. could be similarly framed as a peace offering to growing internal opposition, however this has been challenged by recent inconsistencies. Vice-President JD Vance, for example, recently brushed off Tucker Carlson's interview with white supremacist Nick Fuentes (who was banned from PayPal in 2021 for praising Hitler).
Although Trump retains influence over his base by maintaining a careful balance between pro-Israel and 'America First' factions, his ability to manage broader public perception remains uncertain. Failure to satisfactorily address the continued circulation of pictures, video and audio capturing Trump and Epstein together has aggravated the situation.
Tariffs Beyond Israel/Epstein controversies, the Trump Administration's tariff policies have similarly inflamed criticism. The April 2025 announcement of sweeping "Liberation Day" tariffs (10% on all imports plus higher 'reciprocal' rates on certain partners) provoked accusations of "economic illiteracy" among some critics and analysts. The announcements triggered the largest two-day losses on record for the S&P 500 and Nasdaq, which shed roughly 10% and 11%, respectively, as heavy bond selling further signalled broad rejection of the policy.
Plummeting equity prices (which Trump had long touted as proof of success) and rising bond yields (raising U.S. debt costs and undermining deficit goals) forced another retreat. On 9 April, via Truth Social, he posted "THIS IS A GREAT TIME TO BUY!!! DJT" hours before announcing a 90-day pause and reduced 10% reciprocal tariff rate. The reversal sparked a 9.5% intraday S&P surge, among the largest since World War II.
Markets compelled further retreats (see chart below), spawning the "TACO Trade" narrative (Trump Always Chickens Out) - reflecting a tendency to back down from tariff brinkmanship when negative market reactions became intolerable. As with Epstein, these reversals damaged the general credibility of Trump's promises.
This example illustrates a recurring limit to Trump's playbook. The chaotic, virality-seeking style that dominates election cycles and rallies supporters only worsens perceptions during acute crises. Seemingly unfamiliar with James Carville's "the economy, stupid" maxim, Trump failed to anticipate the extent to which market panic could alienate voters, particularly his older, wealthier base.
November 2025 Politico polling found that among Trump's 2024 voters, only 22% felt tariffs were helping the economy both now and long-term, alongside 27% among respondents identifying as 'MAGA'.
These failures may stem from a false belief that cult-like status and majority electoral support (now including the popular vote), sustained by PR, would buy indefinite patience. In reality, his election-winning "shock and awe" style proved difficult to maintain as the very voters who returned him to office watched their portfolios and 401(k)s nosedive.
Resultantly, Trump 2.0 has lost a pair of major battles in his "Info War". Two core demographics - young, internet-dwelling nationalists and - older, wealthier conservatives - have grown increasingly sceptical of him and increasingly immune to his opinion-shaping methods. A third defeat is reflected in a failure to maintain the support of 2024 swing voters or to win over those who voted against him.
- The Playbook
6. Conclusion Trump's PR Evolution: A Chronological View
Across its numerous evolutions between the 1980s and today, analysis of Trump's outlandish and unorthodox PR strategy reveals that it excels most in one regard: PR. As a businessman, celebrity, and presidential candidate, Trump wielded these methods with incredible success, commanding attention and mobilising support through controversy, nicknames, podcasts, and memes. However, when faced with the realities of leading the global superpower, the facade they construct inevitably crumbles.
Politics, unlike celebrity, requires solutions. It is not possible to sustain electoral support long into a presidency or actually achieve what was promised simply through attention. Although distraction and perception-shaping is useful during election cycles or to deflect short-term scandals, it cannot end wars (like those in Ukraine or Gaza), force acceptance of painful economic policies, or magically transform the abduction of a head-of-state into full regime-change.
As the 2026 midterms loom and Epstein pressure intensifies, the administration desperately needs to rethink its strategy. While yet to be seen, the latter may prove insurmountable for Trump if he, or those in his orbit, emerge undeniably complicit.
Omissions Due its ongoing nature (and for the sake of brevity), one notable omission from this article is backlash to recent Trump-directed ICE raids, particularly the January 2026 Minneapolis killings of Renée Good and Alex Pretti - both U.S. citizens shot dead by federal immigration officers. Despite a strong mandate for mass-scale deportations, broad support has been diminished by dangerous and unprofessional execution.
As evidenced in numerous examples above, Trump's reflexive deflection of blame (this time towards "agitators") backfired, alienating even some of his own voters while entrenching opposition viewpoints. Viral footage of the killings, described by many as "extrajudicial executions", meant initial branding of Pretti and Good as "domestic terrorist[s]" collapsed quickly under scrutiny, triggering protests and the eventual drawdown of Operation Metro Surge in Minnesota.