America, but Make It North Korea

This isn’t a display of national pride or patriotism – it’s a spectacle. Every tank is a stand-in for Trump's need to feel powerful.

Flags will wave in the evening breeze. Jets will roar overhead. Abrams tanks will crawl down Constitution Avenue in a carefully choreographed show of strength.

And Donald Trump – the birthday boy – will stand at attention, chest puffed, basking in the applause like a real dictator. The media will catch it all: red, white, and blue debauchery. A day of worship disguised as patriotism.

But I know what’s happening behind the scenes, because I used to wear the uniform.

Before those tanks head out to rattle the pavement beneath them, thousands of soldiers will have been waiting since before sunrise – bused in from distant posts, most skipping breakfast to make first formation. Commanders and NCOs will bark orders in a frantic effort to make the day look flawless–serving not country, but ego. Troops will stand in the June heat, knees slightly bent to avoid passing out, stuck in formation, waiting for Dear Leader to arrive.

This isn’t patriotism. It’s performance. Not a tribute to the military or the nation – but to a man whose birthday celebration looks like the dictators he idolizes.

A Militarized Ego: The Psychology Behind the Parade

This isn’t the first time Donald Trump has tried to turn the U.S. military into a personal prop.

From the early days of his first presidency, he obsessed over military parades – not as a celebration of the men and women he calls ‘suckers and losers” – but as a mirror for his own power. In 2017, he attended France’s Bastille Day parade and became enthralled. He wanted tanks. He wanted missiles. What he lacked was military officials willing to politicize the troops to make it happen.

Parades like this are rare in free societies. They’re usually reserved for the end of wars or honoring profound measures of sacrifice by our men and women in uniform. In authoritarian regimes like North Korea, they’re common – and purposeful. They exist to intimidate, to project dominance, and to signal to the people that their state and leader are one in the same.

Trump craves this level of adoration above all – even money.

This birthday parade falls on Flag Day – a convenient excuse for Republicans and MAGA to center the event on one man’s fragile ego. There’s no military achievement to be honored. No national crisis has recently been overcome. The only thing being celebrated is the myth of Trump. The meme of his head on Rambo’s body in performative fashion – engineered to paper over the deep rooted insecurity.

This isn’t a display of national pride or patriotism – it’s a spectacle. Every tank is a stand-in for his need to feel powerful. Every jet, a metaphor for self-perceived weakness. Every formation locked in unison, a visual reminder for the country – and to himself – that he’s still the tough guy.

It’s not just theater. It’s aspiration.

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Who this Parade Is Really for

This parade isn’t for the troops. It’s not for veterans. It’s not for the American people. And it sure as hell isn’t for the United States Army, whose 250th anniversary has been hijacked for a fragile man’s birthday party.

Everything about this event has been choreographed to center around Trump. It’s scheduled on his birthday. It’s staged in the capital city. It’s framed by tanks and jets and salutes – all designed to place him at the apex of American power. He’s not honoring anyone but himself and his brand in an attempt to build the myth of Trump-as-strongman.

And the Republicans are letting him.

Most career military officials want nothing to do with this. Those with integrity have already been pushed out, replaced by loyalists or sidelined for refusing to comply. The troops sure as hell don’t want to be there on a Saturday. This celebration of service-turned parade of submission is the type of display you’d expect in Pyongyang, not on Pennsylvania Avenue.

But here’s the thing about spectacle: It can cut both ways.

Protests are expected – and have the opportunity to steal the show. Because when you stage a display this grand, and you piss people off this much, you invite them to show up and reclaim the narrative. Imagine the visuals: rows of tanks in front of a protest banner. Soldiers marching past crowds chanting for democracy, not autocracy. If the parade becomes a backdrop for dissent, it stops being propaganda – and starts becoming parody.

And for someone as obsessed with optics as Trump, that’s the deepest wound of all.

This Is What Authoritarianism Looks Like on Camera

What we will witness on June 14 isn’t just a parade. It’s a loyalty ritual. A performance designed to show the country – and the world – that power now wears a red hat and demands applause.

This is how authoritarianism advances from democracy. Not with tanks crashing through the gates of the Capitol, but with tanks parading politely down Pennsylvania Avenue. Not with soldiers storming the halls of Congress, but with soldiers silently spending the day in formation – hungry, exhausted, and used – while the cameras roll.

Trump isn’t seizing control through force. He’s doing it through theater. Through spectacle. Through the slow, deliberate replacement of national pride with personal devotion.

And the danger is that too many people will see this parade and shrug. Or worse, cheer.

Because authoritarianism doesn’t announce itself with a warning shot. It arrives wrapped in MAGA flags and musical acts. Drenched in nostalgia. It rebrands control as ceremony. It frames obedience as patriotism. And by the time people realize what’s happening, the applause has already become expectation.

But it’s not too late to see this for what it is.

We have to stop normalizing this absurdity. To stop pretending like this is just another political stunt. It’s not. It’s a message. A declaration. That loyalty to the country now means loyalty to him.

And that’s not patriotism.

That’s the parade before the purge.

Like any spectacle though, this one is fragile. It relies on control of the narrative. On optics. On the assumption that no one will push back.

In that lies opportunity.

If enough people show up – not with violence, but with presence – this doesn’t have to be a tribute. It can be a turning point. A parade built to glorify one man can become a backdrop for dissent. The cameras will be rolling. The world will be watching.

And if the story shifts, even slightly, that illusion of power begins to crack.

Because authoritarianism depends on performance. And performance only works when the audience plays along.

Evan Fields is a veteran who writes the News from Underground Substack.