Trump’s Top Diplomat Claims Élysée Palace Resembles Mar-a-Lago
Title: Mar-a-Lago vs. the Élysée: A Gilded Comparison Misses the Mark
In recent diplomatic events that raised more than a few eyebrows, a special envoy from the Trump administration, Steve Witkoff, made a startling and widely ridiculed comparison: he likened former President Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago beach club to the historic Palais de l’Élysée in Paris. The comment, made in front of European and Ukrainian officials during a meeting at the French presidential palace, drew laughter and confusion—underscoring the cultural and historical disconnect evident in such a comparison.
This article explores the origins and architecture of both institutions, unpacks the symbolism of excessive gilding in politics, and examines what this misstep tells us about perception, identity, and cultural literacy on the global stage.
A Tale of Two Palaces — Or Not Quite
The Palais de l’Élysée, built in the early 18th century, stands as a treasured artifact of French history. Originally constructed between 1718 and 1722 as a grand private residence for Count Louis Henri de La Tour d’Auvergne, it later belonged to wealthy merchant-banker Nicolas Beaujon. The palace became an official residence of French presidents in 1848, and since then, it has hosted heads of state, landmark treaties, and pivotal cultural events.
Its opulent Salon des Ambassadeurs, where the Mar-a-Lago comparison was made, is a richly adorned room notable for its 18th-century detailing—gilded moldings, classical motifs, and stately French art, all steeped in centuries of tradition.
By contrast, Mar-a-Lago, completed in 1927, was initially constructed as a 126-room private estate by cereal heiress Marjorie Merriweather Post. The property fell into Donald Trump’s hands in 1985, who converted it into a private club and made it one of his most famed residences. While Mar-a-Lago is adorned in gold finishes and patterned after Mediterranean Revival and neoclassical styles, its furnishings lean heavy on ostentation rather than historic preservation.
To conflate the two is akin to comparing a historical treasure to a themed hotel lobby—visually similar in gold hues perhaps, but fundamentally different in intention, significance, and legacy.
The Aesthetic of Gold: Power or Parody?
Both the Élysée Palace and Mar-a-Lago feature gold motifs, but their applications couldn’t be more dissimilar. In French palaces like Versailles and the Élysée, gilding was a political statement rooted in the divine right of kings and Baroque aesthetics, aimed to reflect the glory and permanence of the monarchy.
Trump’s use of gold—in Mar-a-Lago, Trump Tower, and even reportedly in redecorating parts of the Oval Office during his presidency—signals luxury in a different register. Critics argue that it represents a kitsch version of aristocratic excess, a pastiche rather than homage, often devoid of the cultural or political nuance of its inspiration. His self-professed design involvement—even being quoted as “an architect, you know, or a designer”—has been met with skepticism and derision among professionals.
Cultural Faux-Pas on the Diplomatic Stage
Steve Witkoff’s remarks, delivered in a setting of intense diplomatic negotiation, offered more than a moment of comic relief—they revealed a jarring level of tone-deafness. Culturally, comparing a French national landmark to a beach club visibly associated with legal scandals and ostentatious branding minimizes the artistic and civic gravity of the host country’s site.
More than an aesthetic disagreement, this diplomatic gaffe risked diplomatic embarrassment. It echoed past instances where American exceptionalism, when poorly delivered, came across as arrogance or ignorance abroad.
The Politics of Décor
In February 2024, Donald Trump appointed himself as chair of the Kennedy Center with a promise of ushering in a new “golden age” for American arts and culture—language he has repeatedly used for political branding. His literal interpretation of this “golden age,” however, seems to involve expanding his signature gilded decor into public institutions and symbolic spaces such as the Oval Office.
His choices—ranging from replacing greenery with gold trinkets to gilding TV remote controls—signal a branding exercise more than a cultural vision, raising questions about how aesthetics underpin political power in the Trump era.
Conclusion: Gilded in Name, Not in Legacy
Gold, when used well, can emphasize beauty, grandeur, and reverence. But when overused or improperly contextualized, it loses its luster and becomes caricature. The comparison between Mar-a-Lago and France’s Élysée Palace, while amusing in its audacity, brings into sharp relief differing cultural values and understandings of heritage.
As debates around arts, culture, and diplomacy continue to swirl in American politics, moments like these serve as reminders: history