This morning, many of us awoke to a jarring juxtaposition of headlines: The Wall Street Journal published a column revealing that Jeffrey Epstein received a birthday album filled with bawdy letters—including one from President Donald Trump. And shortly thereafter, news broke that Trump directed Attorney General Pam Bondi to seek the release of grand jury transcripts related to Epstein, citing mounting political pressure and intensifying public scrutiny.
Late last night, Trump took to Truth Social, posting that he had requested Bondi release “any and all pertinent Grand Jury testimony, subject to Court approval,” framing the controversy as a “SCAM, perpetuated by the Democrats.”
This strategic move came after years of speculation among Trump’s most ardent supporters about the Epstein case. Many in MAGA have propagated conspiracy theories suggesting Epstein was murdered in jail, not that he died by suicide. A distrust of government institutions has fed rumors of a secret client list buried by the Department of Justice, painted as evidence of a vast “deep state” cover-up.
With the Journal’s publication of Trump’s letter and growing demands from MAGA loyalists, Trump’s call to release the transcripts isn’t just reactive—it’s a calculated pivot.
To understand why, we need only revisit a similarly critical moment in 2016.
Just one month before Election Day, the infamous Access Hollywood tape surfaced: Trump, caught on a hot mic, made vulgar remarks about women and boasted of sexually aggressive behavior. Many believed it would be his political undoing. Yet after making an apology, Trump went on the offensive—calling his remarks “locker room banter,” invoking Bill Clinton’s alleged indiscretions, and positioning himself as the victim of a media hit job.
It was Trump’s masterful example of narrative control.
And today he’s doing it again.
As the Epstein discourse spirals out of control, Trump is attempting to seize control of the narrative.. On July 16th, he posted on Truth Social:
“The Jeffrey Epstein Hoax... My PAST supporters have bought into this bullshit, hook, line, and sinker... Let these weaklings continue forward and do the Democrats’ work... I don’t want their support anymore!”
As Trump so often does, he reframed the scandal as yet another “Radical Left Democrat scam”—equating it to past controversies like the Steele Dossier, Hunter Biden’s laptop, and the Russia investigation. Speaking to reporters, he reiterated:
“It was a hoax. It’s all been a big hoax. It’s perpetrated by the Democrats and some stupid Republicans...”
This is the standard Trump strategy: deflect, reframe, and dominate the narrative. By casting himself as the target of a partisan witch hunt, using the scandal to reinforce MAGA loyalty and their perception of him not merely as a survivor, but as a fighter against corruption and the deep state.
As grand jury transcripts are released, the media will undoubtedly spotlight prominent names connected to Epstein. This will give Trump the perfect opportunity to switch from defense to offense. He’ll be in control, focusing on what suits his narrative, ignoring what doesn’t, and channeling the chaos into an all too familiar pattern: blaming the media, vilifying the Democrats, and claiming victimhood.
The strategy is not without risk, but when backed into a corner, Trump had little choice. However, as proven so often in the past, Trump's ability to dominate the news cycle, even amid chaos, has proven to be a winning strategy.
Seems implausible? Stay tuned.
David Nevins is co-publisher of The Fulcrum and co-founder and board chairman of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.
A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.