Public figures live on within the words they are remembered by. To understand the effect they had on history, their words need to be documented.
No one is absolutely sure of exactly what Abraham Lincoln said in his most famous speech, the Gettysburg Address. Five known manuscripts exist, but all are slightly different. Every newspaper story from the day contains a different account.
In the case of modern presidents, for the official record, we rely on transcriptions of all their speeches collected by the national government.
But in the case of Donald Trump, that historical record is likely to have a big gap. Almost 10 percent of his public speeches as president are excluded from the official record. That means a false picture of the Trump presidency is being created in the official record for posterity.
In 1957, the National Historical Publications Commission, a part of the National Archives, recommended developing a uniform system so all materials from presidencies could be archived. They did this to literally save presidential records from the flames: Warren G. Harding's wife claimed to have burned all his records, and Robert Todd Lincoln burned all his father's war correspondence. Other presidents who had their records intentionally destroyed include Chester A. Arthur and Martin Van Buren.
So the government collects and retains all presidential communications — including executive orders, announcements, nominations, statements and speeches. This includes any public verbal communications by presidents, which are also placed in the Compilation of Presidential Documents.
These are part of the official record of any administration, published by the National Archives. In most presidencies, the document or transcript is available a few days to a couple of weeks after any event. At the conclusion of an administration, these documents form the basis for the formal collections of the Public Papers of the President.
As a political scientist, I'm interested in where presidents give speeches. What can be learned about their priorities based on their choice of location? What do these patterns tell us about administrations?
For example, Barack Obama primarily focused on large media markets in states that strongly supported him. Trump went to supportive places as well, including small media markets such as Mankato, Minn., where the airport was not even large enough to accommodate the regular Air Force One.
I found something odd when I began to organize my own database of locations for Trump's speeches. I was born and raised in Louisville, so I pay attention to Kentucky. I knew that on March 20, 2017, he addressed a rally in Louisville — a meandering speech that touched on everything from coal miners to the Supreme Court, China to building a border wall and the "illegal immigrants" who were, he said, robbing and murdering Americans.
But when I looked at the compilation a few months later, I couldn't find the speech. No problem, I thought. They are running behind and will put it in later.
A year later, it was still not there. Furthermore, others were missing. These were not any speeches, only the rallies. By my count, 147 separate transcripts for public speaking events are missing from Trump's official records — just above 8 percent of his presidential addresses.
A 1978 law says administrations must retain "any documentary materials relating to the political activities" of the president or his staff if such activities "relate to or have a direct effect upon the carrying out" of the president's official or ceremonial duties.
An administration may exclude records that are purely private or don't have an effect on official duties. All public events are included, such as quick comments on the South Lawn, short exchanges with reporters and all public speeches, radio addresses and even public telephone calls to astronauts aboard space shuttles.
But Trump's widely attended rallies, and what he said at them, have so far been omitted from the public record his administration supplied to the Compilation of Presidential Documents. And while historians and the public could make transcripts from publicly available videos, that still does not address the need to have a complete official collection of the 45th president's statements.
Federal law says presidents may exclude "materials directly relating to the election of a particular individual or individuals to Federal, State, or local office, which have no relation to or direct effect upon the carrying out of ... duties of the President."
This has been interpreted to mean an administration could omit notes, emails or other documentation from what it sends to the compilation. While many presidents do not provide transcripts for speeches at private fundraising events, rallies covered by America's press corps do not likely fall under these exclusions.
Government documents are among the primary records of who we are as a people.
These primary records speak to Americans directly; they are not what others tell us or interpret for us about our history. The government compiles and preserves these records to give an accurate accounting of the leaders the country has chosen. They provide a shared history in full, instead of an excerpt or quick clip shown in a news report.
Since 1981, the public has legally owned all presidential records. As soon as a president leaves office, the National Archivist gets legal custody of all of them. Presidents are generally on their honor to be good stewards of history. There is no real penalty for noncompliance.
But these documents have so far always been available to the public — and they've been available quickly. Internal documents like memos or email face a rigorous archival review that lasts years before they are even accessible. All public speeches of every president since Bill Clinton have been available online. Until Trump, there was nothing missing.
By removing these speeches, Trump is creating a false perception of his presidency, making it look more serious and traditional than it was.
That Louisville speech, for example, is still among the missing.
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Click here to read the original article.
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image of U.S. President Donald Trump is displayed on a digital billboard in Times Square in New York on April 8, 2026.
Trump is stuck between two realities. Neither serves the American people
Normally, I worry that events may overtake a column. But not so with the Iran war.
I don’t worry about running afoul of a headline or Truth Social post from the president because what is said about the situation is no longer very relevant to the reality.
On April 8, Nick Catoggio, my Dispatch colleague, dubbed an earlier stoppage with Iran “Schrödinger’s ceasefire.” This was a reference to the famous thought experiment by the physicist Erwin Schrödinger, who was trying to explain the weirdness of “superpositionality” in quantum physics. A cat in a box is both dead and alive at the same time until you open the box. Schrödinger meant to illustrate the absurdity of the idea that particles aren’t any one thing, but a “cloud of probabilities.”
The Trump administration is stuck in a word cloud of probabilities of his own making. The war is over. The war is on. The war isn’t a war. We have a deal, but we don’t have a deal, but we’re about to have a deal. We destroyed Iran’s military. No, we left it intact. We want regime change. No we don’t. We already accomplished it. We “obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program a year ago. We had to go to war in February to prevent nuclear war. The Strait of Hormuz is open, closed, or something in-between. No deal without “unconditional surrender.” Let’s make a deal!
This everything-all-at-once vibe can be disorienting, particularly since most Americans didn’t have a war with Iran on their bingo cards until the shooting had already started. President Trump didn’t prepare the country or consult with Congress beforehand because he thought it would all be a smashing success in a matter of weeks.
The miscalculation that started it all: killing Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and much of Iran’s senior leadership, on the first day of the war. To “the great proud people of Iran, I say tonight that the hour of your freedom is at hand,” Trump announced on Feb. 28. “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be probably your only chance for generations.”
I support regime change in Iran and shed no tears for Khamenei or his goons. But when you start a war by killing the regime’s top leaders, it’s not unreasonable for the remaining ones to conclude that you really intend regime change.
Khamenei was a murderous fanatic, but he was a fairly cautious one. He liked to threaten closing the Strait of Hormuz or attacking our regional allies, but he was reluctant to actually do it, fearing it would invite a regime change war. The mullahs and IRGC goons believed, not unreasonably, that if they lost their grip on power, they’d be lynched by the Iranian people they’ve brutalized for decades.
By starting with a regime change war, Trump removed any reason for the regime not to go for broke. When you have nothing to lose — particularly when you are a millenarian religious fanatic — a Persian Alamo strategy makes a lot of sense.
So Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz and attacked its neighbors.
But it turns out this wasn’t the Alamo. In the contest of wills, Trump blinked. The Iranian regime’s tolerance for punishment proved — so far — to be greater than Trump’s and that of our gulf allies. Militarily we could finish the job, but that would require ground troops and much greater economic turmoil. In a conflict Trump launched unilaterally without the prior support of Congress, NATO or the American people, Trump doesn’t have the political capital for that.
But that’s only half the problem. Trump wants the war over, but he doesn’t want to pay — militarily, economically, politically — what that would cost. So he wants to make a deal that ends it. But there is no deal available that wouldn’t come at an equally undesirable cost. Any deal that looks like what President Obama struck with the Iranians would be too embarrassing to bear. But the Iranians are convinced that they can get just such a deal, and they’re willing to drag things out as long as it takes.
The result: Trump’s in a box of his own making. He thinks he can talk his way out by simply asserting a reality that doesn’t exist. When the financial markets get nervous, he announces a breakthrough that is, at best, a possibility. When the Iranians agree to a deal that looks similar to one Obama might negotiate, Trump goes back to his threats.
It can’t go on forever. But I’m sure it’ll last until long after this column is forgotten.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.