Devoted Followers Gather in Windsor to Enliven the President’s Event of Little Substance

At no point in its lengthy and august record had the public transport vehicle from Windsor to Staines received such a greeting. Escorted by police, followed by worldwide media, the brightly colored single-decker rolled stately up Windsor’s main street, while bystanders strained to see of the lone senior inside. “That isn’t him,” muttered one man, somewhat unnecessarily.

An Occasion of Much Ado About Hardly Anything

This was one of those days on the banks of the Thames: plenty of enthusiasm over very little, a sideshow that felt mostly secondary to the spectacle occurring within the closed off castle grounds. “Unfortunately not much is going to occur, madam,” advised a police officer a woman recording a social media video from the curb, as he directed her further back toward the pavement.

Insignificant Happenings and Lots of Expecting

Certainly, certain things did happen, though not much of major importance in the broader context. Individuals yelled things at each other. People argued over Gaza. People waved flags and displayed placards. A man in a Maga hat tried a pub treat from the chip shop and winced. Television assistants hurried up and down Castle Hill bringing flat whites to TV personalities. Light rain fell.

The scene turned into a mass of spectators watching other people see things, simultaneously pleased by their physical proximity to the primary occasion and dismayed by their inability to influence it.

Marine Units and Unexpected Local Fauna

“Our team is prepared for whatever may occur that will happen on or around the water,” declared Sgt Lyn Smith, leader of a joint operations marine unit between Thames Valley and Hampshire police. While the official guests approached Windsor, almost the only thing happening near the water was a swan relieving itself.

An Event Structured for Limited Engagement

Naturally, this event with little action was to some extent built into the arrangement, the natural result of a state visit whose guiding principle was to prevent any imaginable contact with actual people. As Trump and King Charles observed the guard, the crowd outside was left entirely to its own devices. A bit of advice: if you tell a Maga supporter that his huge flag only has 49 stars on it, he’ll still be checking them half an hour later.

Media Attention and the Search for Storylines

Even so, the crowd had assembled and the media was recording, so how was each outlet going to fill their airtime? The BBC was seen to spend a large portion of time airing aerial shots of the castle. “The main news today, ancient fortress continues to be upright.”

“Observe some precipitation on the camera there, and rain clearly has an effect on flying,” a commentator filibustered on a television network in an effort to explain why Trump’s helicopter was yet to taken off. Obviously some different amusements was needed.

The Superfans Come Center Stage

Enter: the hardcore enthusiasts. And they are never in limited quantity at events like these, pulled like insects to a press area, readily filling long stretches of silent moments with their antics. There was a guy dressed from head to toe in UK and US flags. There was a woman with a restrained alsatian wrapped in a Maga vest. There was a guy who had spent two days producing a picture of Trump as a caveman, carrying King Charles on his back like a baby. There were people outside the retail outlet having intense disputes about the meaning of genocide. All found a eager listeners among the itinerant correspondents hungry for copy, any copy, any kind of detail.

And you realise how easily what counts as political opinion in this country is influenced by the most vocal – and by extension the craziest – people.

An Attraction for Nonconformists

Maybe it is inevitable that any circus will attract a few clowns. But this does also seem to be a characteristic very particular to Trump: the unfailing ability to attract outsiders and eccentrics wherever he goes. Frankly speaking: Trump himself is just a very weird guy, the kind of individual you imagine would result from an regrettable nuclear accident involving a large block of orange cheese. And in a sense his entire time in office has been a kind of beacon to the disaffected, the trusting, the interested in plots, the less than conscious. Oddities of the world, unite. We assemble at Windsor at daybreak. Don whatever you like.

Genuine Concerns Interrupts

Dignitaries. Police. Journalists. The Hampshire and Berkshire branches of the Trump supporters’ group. Was there anyone here remotely normal? “Not in Windsor,” snorted the girl behind the bar of the Horse and Groom. “They’re all too busy shouting at each other.” And maybe there is something about this place that encourages the role-playing in everyone, a royal seat with a town unwillingly attached, a kind of artificial England with its waves of bunting and novelty shops, a dream to sell the tourists. What sort of reality were we really hoping to find here?

The real world does still intrude, if you look hard enough. A little distance from the chaotic mass, a couple of local political party councillors were giving away leaflets. Improve our parks and playgrounds. Renew broken streetlights. Deal with “problem areas”, whatever they are. This is the governance that genuinely affects people’s lives, far closer at any rate than some American president sitting in a royal transport that nobody can see. But they’re having a tough time getting the information across. “We’re about caring for people, repairing things, looking after communities,” says Mark Wilson of the Eton and Castle ward. “But that’s not what generates interest.”

The Aftermath of the Day

In the grounds, men in unusual headwear were playing wind devices. The banquet table in St George’s Hall was being set. Outside, the crowds were dispersing. The No 10 bus was well on its way to Staines. The woman in the political hat had entered Wagamama to grab some teppanyaki. And it was hard not to sense the chasm between these realities, far deeper than a castle wall, worlds momentarily adjacent but eternally separated.