ANALYSIS: Trump suddenly gives the impression of a man ready to leave the White House

The Complete Plundering of the Oval Office

The theory that he’s leaving rests mainly on a cold, almost accounting-like argument: Trump has already gotten what he wanted. His family has amassed billions. Contracts. Partnerships. Cryptocurrencies. Hotels. Conferences. Indirect benefits. The economic exploitation of the presidency has been carried out with formidable efficiency, and it is now largely exhausted. There isn’t much left to extract from the institutional framework. The juice has been squeezed out.

Added to this is the less-discussed but perhaps more decisive issue: the tax immunity obtained from the Internal Revenue Service. According to several recent analyses, even after the Anti-Weaponization Fund was abandoned, a parallel agreement protects Trump, his family, and his businesses from any IRS action—past, present, or future—in perpetuity. This is legal protection of unprecedented scope, which, according to Ray Richmond, could be one of the real reasons behind the 2024 candidacy. If the goal was to bury the tax investigations once and for all, that goal has been achieved. The rest is a waste of time.

Why stay and take the hits?

The remaining two and a half years look set to be particularly hostile. A barrage of investigations. Civil lawsuits. Unfavorable court rulings. Pressure from the Epstein Files, the partial release of which continues to loom as a constant threat. Why would a man who has already secured tax immunity, already filled his bank account, and already placed his loyalists in key positions agree to stay and weather this storm? Personal self-interest points toward leaving—not toward staying.

The alternative is well known: retreat to Mar-a-Lago, dictate his whims from afar, play golf, receive courtiers, and let a vice president manage the fallout. It would be an escape disguised as a handover. A resignation packaged as a legacy. And for a man who can tolerate neither defeat nor humiliation, this may be the only way out that would allow him to disguise the debacle as a triumph. One last narrative sleight of hand. One last curtain drawn at the opportune moment, rather than torn down by events.

June 14: A Birthday and a Symbol

Ray Richmond puts forward a precise, almost surgical hypothesis: Trump might choose June 14—his 80th birthday—to announce his withdrawal. The date is significant. Symbolic. Spectacular. It checks all the boxes for a man obsessed with self-promotion. A milestone birthday. A memorable number. A moment when media attention would be at its peak. A setting where his resignation would become a spectacle, and the spectacle would become a monument.

Add to that the 250th anniversary of the United States, celebrated on July 4, 2026. Trump could easily turn these celebrations into a tribute to himself, a final narrative, a grand finale orchestrated by his own hand. The narrative would be unstoppable for his base: “I saved the country, I made it great again, I’m leaving at the peak of my power.” For a disciplined narcissist, this is the ideal exit. Not a resignation. A self-declared coronation. Not a defeat. A coronation disguised as a farewell.

The Precedent of Withdrawal from Immigration Policy

An additional, more subtle sign deserves attention. According to recent reports, the Department of Homeland Security has reportedly begun selling off some of the large detention warehouses acquired during the immigration crackdown. The so-called “Alligator Alcatraz” center has reportedly been closed. On the ground, the massive migrant crackdown—which had formed the rhetorical backbone of his second term—seems to be losing steam. Not out of compassion. Out of disinterest.

Yet for Trump, immigration was never a sincere cause. It was a tool. A mechanism for rallying support. When you abandon the tool without replacing it, it’s because you no longer need it. And when a president no longer needs the tool that brought him to power, it’s often because he’s no longer thinking about conquering, but about stepping down. Political logic dictates keeping up the pressure. The logic of departure dictates letting up. Trump is letting up.

I note this detail about the resold warehouses with a sense of vertigo. You don’t dismantle a repressive apparatus of this magnitude without a strategic reason. Either you’re losing control, or you’re preparing an exit. Neither option is reassuring.

The Ego, the Trial, the Addiction to Power

Of course, the theory that he’ll step down faces serious objections. The first is Donald Trump’s ego. This man has never admitted defeat in his life. He contested his 2020 election loss for four years. He contested his convictions. He has treated every setback as a cosmic injustice. How can we imagine him willingly agreeing to leave the most powerful office in the world? It’s a weighty argument. And it cannot be dismissed out of hand.

The second objection concerns potential legal proceedings. As long as he is president, Trump enjoys considerable institutional protection. Resigning would, in theory, make him more vulnerable. But Richmond counters that Trump doesn’t really believe in prison. He thinks his fortune and fame will protect him until the very end. That confidence might be naive. It might also be clear-eyed. In any case, it might be enough to break the deadlock.

The alternative scenario: physical collapse

There is a third scenario, one that has received less attention but is far bleaker. Trump would not have chosen to leave. His body would decide for him. The president is 79 years old. According to several observers, he is showing signs of increasing cognitive fatigue. Hesitations. Repetitions. Moments of absent-mindedness. Public appearances are becoming less frequent. Speeches are getting shorter. Impromptu remarks are becoming rarer, replaced by pre-written scripts. Physical decline could force a withdrawal that his will would never have consented to.

In this scenario, resignation would not be a strategy. It would be a silent surrender. A medical withdrawal disguised as a political gesture. This hypothesis—more human, yet also sadder—is perhaps the most likely. And it would make the June 14 timeline all the more credible: a birthday as a pretext, declining health as the real cause, and a heroic narrative as the packaging. This is how one builds a legend when one no longer has the strength to defend it.

The Succession Dilemma

If Trump were to resign, the vice president would take over. This would entail an immediate reshuffling of the U.S. political establishment. Hardcore MAGA supporters would demand absolute loyalty to Trump’s legacy. Traditional Republicans would see this as an opportunity to regain the upper hand. The Democratic Party would have to redefine its strategy in the face of an opponent who is less charismatic but perhaps more effective administratively. The media ecosystem would lose its emotional driving force, its daily source of controversy, and its audience magnet.

The financial markets, for their part, would likely react with initial relief, followed by deep uncertainty regarding current tariff policies. The U.S. economy is currently steered by an unpredictable man. His departure would open a window of potential stability, but also a risky transition period during which international actors would test the new administration. China, Russia, Iran, and the European Union would each recalibrate their strategies within a matter of days.

The Ongoing Trial and the Legal Outlook

A resigning Trump becomes a vulnerable Trump. No more direct presidential immunity. No more pretext for postponing court appearances. Tax records, financial investigations, civil lawsuits, the gray areas left by the Epstein Files—everything could resurface. Unless, of course, his departure was negotiated in exchange for guarantees. A preemptive pardon. A tacit agreement. A non-prosecution pact. American history is familiar with this kind of arrangement. Nixon benefited from it. Trump could demand it as a condition of his withdrawal.

In this scenario, the resignation would become a major political transaction. A trade-off. Power in exchange for immunity. Office in exchange for peace of mind. And it would likely be the most cynical deal in recent U.S. history, because it would cement the idea that a president can plunder his office and then step down without being held accountable—provided he leaves in time. The precedent would be devastating for future generations. But for Trump, it would be perfectly consistent with his way of life.

A Democracy Exhausted by Its Own President

Beyond Trump himself, the prospect of his departure tells a different story. It tells the story of an exhausted country. A nation that no longer knows whether it prefers the stability of a hated president or the instability of an unpredictable succession. American institutions have absorbed a major shock since 2025. They have bent without breaking, but they have bent. A sudden withdrawal would not repair the cracks. It would simply expose them to the light.

American society is now fractured along lines that extend far beyond the figure of Trump. Media polarization. Distrust of elites. Housing crisis. Persistent inflation. Viral disinformation. Collapse of institutional trust. The current president’s departure would not make these fractures disappear. It would leave them to a successor less skilled at turning them into a spectacle, but perhaps more dangerous in the day-to-day administration of the country.

The illusion of relief

Many Americans—and not just Democrats—fantasize about Trump’s departure as a form of liberation. Yet history teaches us that the end of authoritarian reigns is often followed by turbulent times. The void left by such an extraordinary figure is rarely filled with serenity. It is filled by the struggle over his legacy, by internal score-settling, and by attempts to rewrite collective memory. Post-Trump America, if it comes soon, will not be a return to normalcy. It will be a new battlefield.

Columnist Ray Richmond concludes his op-ed with a secular prayer: “Please, merciful God, let it be so.” This fervor speaks volumes about the emotional state of a segment of the country. The anticipation of his departure has become a belief, a hope, a private religion. But hope does not make policy. And belief does not make a prophecy. Trump will leave one day. The question remains whether that day will come on June 14, 2026, or in two and a half years, after the end of a term whose details no one today dares to truly imagine.

I’d like to believe in that scenario. I really would. But I’ve learned to be wary of easy relief. Trump could leave tomorrow. He could also hold on until the very last day, out of sheer stubbornness. And in between, there’s an entire country holding its breath.

A weak signal that deserves to be taken seriously

The argument put forward by Ray Richmond remains, by its very nature, a conjecture. The author himself openly acknowledges this. It is an intuition, an interpretation of faint signals, a collection of suspicious behaviors. Nothing in this analysis constitutes proof. But the accumulation of clues creates an atmosphere, and that atmosphere deserves to be acknowledged. When a president stops defending his own agenda, stops rallying his troops, and stops playing his own role, something is happening behind the scenes. That something could be a personal breakdown. Or an exit strategy. Or both at once.

What is certain is that Trump 2026 is no longer Trump 2024. The spring has gone slack. The machine is running out of steam. The narrative is stalling. The man who made boundless energy his trademark now seems to be conserving his strength, like a boxer at the end of a fight who knows he can no longer win on points and is waiting for the chance to land one last spectacular blow. Or for a towel to be thrown into the ring.

What America Should Watch For

The coming weeks will be decisive. June 14 is approaching. So is July 4. The celebrations marking the 250th anniversary of the United States will provide a stage that Trump could use as a springboard—or as a curtain call. Negotiations with Iran, a cascade of court rulings, and investigative reports on the Epstein Files—all are converging toward a potential tipping point. The attentive observer should keep an eye on three indicators: the president’s public appearances, the tone of his posts on Truth Social, and the attitude of prominent Republican leaders toward the White House.

If Trump leaves, it won’t be out of magnanimity. It won’t be out of a sense of statesmanship. It will be out of calculation, fatigue, or illness. And America will then have to face, without its central figure, the consequences of the past ten years. Will the country emerge from this ordeal stronger, or simply drained? The answer does not depend on Trump. It depends on what citizens, institutions, and checks and balances will do with the void he leaves behind. And that responsibility—no one can delegate it to an orange billionaire.

I end this piece with a strange sense of weariness. No joy. No relief. Just the heavy feeling that we’ve spent too many years scrutinizing a single man, and not enough rebuilding what that man has shattered. If he leaves tomorrow, the work will begin. If he stays, the work will wait. But in either case, the work will be immense.

Signed, Jacques Pj Provost, columnist