On April 29, when Trump was asked by a reporter 'Who should be the new Pope?', he grinned and said, 'Me! I'm the first choice!' After that, he added, 'There's a cardinal in New York who's not bad either.' Three days later, he took it a step further by personally joining the meme game, posting an edited photo of himself in papal robes on social media, which the White House account surprisingly shared at lightning speed. This move ignited a firestorm in the public sphere: MAGA supporters found it 'presidential humor', while the opposition criticized it as 'America in moral decay'.

The Trump team had long been playing the 'sanctification' persona—supporters wear T-shirts printed with 'God's chosen', his birthday is being made a public holiday, and now he's even daring to don papal robes. Some analysts believe this is comparable to ancient Roman emperors claiming to be 'sons of God', essentially elevating political authority above religion. More subtly, the White House simultaneously announced a grand military parade on June 14 (Trump's birthday + Flag Day), with ambitions spilling over the screen.

Despite Trump’s playful demeanor, reality is stark: the Catholic Church mandates that the Pope must be unmarried and male, while Trump has been married three times and is not even a member of the clergy. Even the New York Cardinal Dolan he supports has been met with skepticism from Vatican experts: 'Too Americanized, no chance!' The only non-European Pope in history, Francis, also made a surprising rise to power, but at least he was a legitimate cardinal.

The late Pope Francis and Trump are practically polar opposites: one lives in a small Vatican hotel concerned about immigrants, while the other resides in a gilded tower building a border wall. The two have been exchanging barbs since 2016, with Francis stating, 'Those who build walls are not worthy of being called Christians', to which Trump retorted, 'The Pope should have asked me to be president when he was threatened by ISIS.' Now, Trump's recent actions are seen as a continuation of his challenge to church authority—if I can't be your Pope, I'll just create my own 'Papal persona'.

Trump most likely never genuinely wanted to become Pope, but this maneuver perfectly aligns with his consistent strategy: dominating the headlines with controversial topics, solidifying his core support, and simultaneously testing the boundaries of power. Some foreign media have warned that this 'religion + populism' hybrid operation is turning the White House into a 'new St. Peter's Basilica', and what Trump may want is a 'political-religious empire fantasy'. Next time he edits himself as the Jade Emperor, we shouldn't be too surprised—after all, in the Trump universe, there's no such thing as too crazy, only crazier.