Donald Trump just hitched a ride on the legacy of America's original cowboy president, and he didn't care about the horse manure left behind. Literally.
On July 1, 2026, Trump arrived in Medora, North Dakota, to slice the ribbon on the brand-new $450 million Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library. The whole spectacle was tied into Freedom 250, the national celebration marking the US semiquincentennial. Surrounded by actors dressed as Rough Riders and a literal trail of horse droppings baking in the summer heat, Trump spent an hour doing what he does best: reshaping history to fit his own narrative.
If you're wondering why a modern Manhattan billionaire feels a deep spiritual connection to a 19th-century Progressive Era trust-buster, it's not because they share a policy platform. It's because Trump sees Roosevelt as the ultimate "he-man"—a alpha male archetype he desperately wants to project as he cruises through his second term.
But if you look past the stagecraft at the Burning Hills Amphitheatre, the pairing is bizarre. TR busted corporate monopolies and saved 230 million acres of public land. Trump and his Interior Secretary, Doug Burgum, have spent years doing the exact opposite. Let's pull back the curtain on what actually happened in the Badlands and why this bizarre historical cosplay matters.
The Big Stick and the Big Stage
The setting looked like a Hollywood backlot. The Burning Hills Amphitheatre was decked out with a western set featuring a fake railway station, an apothecary, and a blacksmith shop. Twenty-five men in period-accurate military gear stood rigidly behind the president.
Trump didn't just attend the event; he tried to absorb TR's aura. He called Roosevelt "a great he-man" and a "proud man," quickly pivoting to tell the crowd, "I’m a proud man, I’m proud of our country". He even brought out his favorite "racehorse theory" on genetics, praising TR’s son, Theodore Roosevelt Jr., who won the Medal of Honor in World War II, by saying, "His son was brave. It’s genetics, you know... Fast horses".
To sweeten the deal, Trump brought a prop. He unhooked the congressional Medal of Honor that had been awarded posthumously to TR in 2001 from the wall of the Roosevelt Room in the White House and handed it over to the library. Then came the inevitable punchline. Trump joked that he should award a few Medals of Honor to himself and his sons, Don Jr. and Eric. "We’ll have a threesome," he quipped, suggesting his sons deserved medals for their "genius at hunting" and he deserved one for "taking on Russia, Russia, Russia".
When Donald Met AI Teddy
The most revealing moment didn't happen at the podium. It happened inside the 96,000-square-foot facility, where Trump tested out "Talk With TR," an artificial intelligence exhibit built by Microsoft and LemonSlice.
Trump walked up to the digital president and asked a very specific question: "Do you consider the Panama Canal your greatest achievement?"
It's no secret why Trump focused on the canal. He spent the start of his second term daydreaming aloud about buying or seizing the Panama Canal back from Panama to block Chinese influence. He wanted the AI to validate his big-infrastructure obsession.
The digital TR didn't entirely take the bait. The AI responded that while the canal was a proud battle, "I measure my greatest work by the lives improved. Parks set aside, food and drugs made safe, the square deal given to all, not just to a few".
Trump didn't seem to care about the nuance. On stage, he dismissed the parks altogether. "He did some incredible things—a lot of people will say the parks; people point to different elements of his success," Trump told the sweating crowd. "Incredible. But he built the Panama canal".
The Conservation Elephant in the Room
This is where the political reality clashes violently with the historical tribute. The library sits right next to Theodore Roosevelt National Park, the very landscape that forged TR’s conservation ethos after his wife and mother died on the same day in 1884. TR went to the Badlands to grieve, became a rancher, and realized that America’s wilderness was a finite treasure that corporate interests would destroy if left unchecked.
Trump and Doug Burgum have spent their careers operating on a completely different philosophy. Burgum, the former North Dakota governor who heavily bankrolled and championed this library, is now Trump’s Interior Secretary. Under their watch, the administration has consistently rolled back wildlife protections, pushed for fossil fuel extraction on public lands, and slashed budgets for national parks—including the very park visible from the library windows.
Conservation groups like the Center for Western Priorities didn't let the irony slide. They pointed out that while TR used the Gilded Age to rein in corporate giants, Trump’s policies aim to return public lands to commercial exploitation. TR signed the Antiquities Act to protect historic landmarks; Trump's team has repeatedly targeted those same protections.
Why the Roosevelt Playbook Works for Trump
So why did Trump show up? Because the TR mythos is incredibly potent, and Trump knows how to weaponize it.
Roosevelt was a populist who spoke softly and carried a big stick. Trump prefers to speak loudly and use a golf club, but the core appeal is the same: the projection of raw, unapologetic American strength. By showing up in Medora, Trump gets to claim he is the true heir to the "America First" energy of the early 1900s. He wants the rugged cowboy imagery, the military bravado of the Rough Riders, and the legacy of global dominance symbolized by the Panama Canal. He just wants to skip the parts about environmental regulation and trust-busting.
The library itself is a massive achievement, funded by $50 million from the state and over $300 million in private cash from corporate giants, hedge fund managers, and oil tycoons like Harold Hamm. It's a high-tech monument built in a town of 120 people. Trump even announced a $750,000 grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities to keep the lights on for year one.
What to Watch Next
The Medora trip wasn't a one-off historical field trip. It’s the kickoff to a highly calculated summer blitz. If you want to see how this historical narrative plays out, keep your eyes on the following moves:
- The Mount Rushmore Pivot: Trump is heading straight from North Dakota to South Dakota for a massive July 4th fireworks display at Mount Rushmore. Expect him to double down on the imagery of the four presidents carved into the stone—including Roosevelt.
- The Public Lands Battle: Watch how the Interior Department handles drilling permits in Western states over the next six months. The disconnect between the pro-TR rhetoric and actual environmental policy will give you the real story on where public land access is heading.
- The Freedom 250 Tour: This library opening is just the opening act for a massive wave of corporate-sponsored patriotism leading up to the 250th anniversary of the United States. Pay attention to which historical figures the administration chooses to elevate—and which parts of their legacies get left on the cutting room floor.
