WASHINGTONIUM — On the nineteenth day of Augustus in the glorious year MMXXVI, a mighty proclamation thundered from the Palatium Album, rattling toolboxes from Detroitium to Texanum:
The American auto legions are coming home.
And who, according to the imperial chronicles, commanded this magnificent migration of engines, factories, pickup trucks and very expensive leather seats?
Why, none other than Imperator Donaldus Trumpius Caesar Maximus, Conqueror of Trade Deficits, Keeper of the Sacred Tariff Scrolls, Defender of the American Assembly Line and Supreme Pontifex of the ancient doctrine known as Made in America.
The latest triumph involves Fordius Motoricus, which announced that production of Lincoln models will increasingly return to the United States while imports from the distant realm of Chinorum are phased out.
Thousands of American jobs are expected to emerge from the maneuver, causing the Imperial Ministry of Tremendous Announcements to immediately declare another victory for the America First trade agenda.
Fordius receives the imperial signal
The chieftain of Fordius, Jim Farleius, made the connection between Washington policy and the company’s decision quite clear.
Translated into proper Imperial Trumpian, his message might have sounded something like this:
“The moment Trumpius descended from Mount Tariffus carrying the sacred tablets of trade policy, we looked at the Lincoln and said: Bring the chariot home.”
Trumpius Caesar, naturally, required no further evidence.
He reportedly gazed upon a magnificent American automobile and proclaimed:
“Everybody said the factories were gone. Gone forever. Very sad. Then I came along. Suddenly the factories are saying, ‘Sir, may we come back?’ And I said yes. Beautiful factories. Very respectful factories.”
The Imperial Senate applauded for seventeen minutes.
Possibly eighteen.
The records are unclear because everyone was busy applauding.
Toyotus Maximus marches into Texanum
Next came Toyotus Motoricus Japonicus, carrying a treasure chest reportedly worth $3.6 billion.
According to the imperial account, Toyota is shifting Tacoma production from Mexicum to its enormous San Antonio plant in Texanum, creating around 2,000 jobs and doubling the size of the facility.
To Trumpius Caesar, this was practically a military campaign.
“Tacoma. Great truck. Powerful name. And now Texas gets more of them. Texas loves trucks. Trucks love Texas. It’s one of the great romances of history.”
Imperial historians immediately placed the event somewhere between Caesar crossing the Rubicon and the invention of the cupholder.
Hondius Civicus obtains American citizenship
Then came Hondius Japonicus, bearing news that its next-generation Civic will be produced in Indianum rather than Mexicum.
The stated objective: avoid tariffs and secure approximately 210,000 units of annual American production.
Trumpius was pleased.
“Civic. You hear the name? Civic. Civilization. America invented civilization. Maybe not technically, but certainly the best version.”
Several scholars collapsed quietly behind a marble column.
Generalis Motorum rolls out the heavy armor
Then the gates opened for Generalis Motorum, known among the common people as General Motors.
GM is investing roughly $4 billion to shift production of vehicles including the Chevrolet Blazer and Equinox from Mexico to plants in Tennessee and Kansas. Buick Envision production is also slated to move from China to Kansas.
Hundreds of thousands of vehicles could ultimately be added to domestic capacity.
Trumpius Caesar reportedly pointed toward Kansas on an enormous golden map and declared:
“Kansas! People underestimated Kansas. Nobody is underestimating Kansas now. Kansas is becoming like Rome, but with better parking.”
This observation has not yet been peer-reviewed.
Mercedes-Benzus discovers Alabamium
Perhaps most impressive to the imperial court was the arrival of Mercedes-Benzus Germanicus, originating from that mysterious northern province known as Germania, where automobiles routinely travel at alarming speeds while governments hold twenty-year debates about highway limits.
Mercedes-Benz plans to invest billions in expanding SUV production at its Tuscaloosa, Alabama, facility.
Tariffs were cited as an important factor.
Trumpius was delighted.
“The Germans are coming to Alabama — economically! Very important distinction. Mercedes makes beautiful cars. Expensive cars. Tremendous cars. Soon people will say Alabama and think luxury.”
Imperial cartographers were instructed to prepare for the possible renaming of the region as Mercedesium Alabamensis.
Volvius Truckus brings the giant chariots
Next appeared Volvius Truckus, having invested hundreds of millions of dollars to launch production of its new VNR regional hauler at its New River Valley facility in Dublin, Virginia.
This was particularly pleasing to Trumpius Caesar.
Ancient emperors had war elephants.
America has eighteen-wheelers.
“Much better,” the Emperor would presumably say. “Elephants cannot haul nearly enough freight, and frankly their fuel economy is terrible.”
No elephant representatives were available for comment.
Stellantius opens the imperial treasury
Then came Stellantius Maximus, ruler of Chrysler, Jeep, Dodge and several other automotive provinces.
The company announced what it described as the largest single investment in its 100-year American history.
Domestic manufacturing capacity is expected to expand by around 50 percent, with five new vehicles and more than 5,000 jobs across Illinois, Ohio, Michigan and Indiana.
Trumpius Caesar immediately declared the development “historic.”
Everything in the Trumpian Empire is historic.
Breakfast can be historic.
A successful elevator ride can be historic.
Five new vehicles and thousands of jobs therefore qualify as extremely historic.
The Imperial Architectural Commission is reportedly considering five new triumphal arches — one for each vehicle.
Drive-through arches, naturally.
This is America.
Nissanus and Hyundaimus join the procession
Nissanus Maximus is also working to maximize production at its Tennessee manufacturing complex, adding models and sustaining thousands of American jobs.
Then comes Hyundaimus Coreanicus, increasing annual capacity at its enormous Metaplant America in Ellabell, Georgia.
The broader Hyundai investment strategy aims to produce the great majority of vehicles sold in America on American soil.
Trumpius Caesar could hardly ask for more.
“If you sell it here, build it here. Very simple. I’ve been saying it forever. Maybe since Rome. People tell me I have very old instincts.”
Some historians found this statement more plausible than intended.
Rolls-Roycius lets the gold coins roll
Even Rolls-Roycius Britannicus, a name usually associated with aristocrats, champagne and individuals who refer to houses in the plural, has entered the imperial manufacturing parade.
The company is investing $75 million to increase engine production in Aiken, South Carolina, while also having recently completed a $24 million expansion in Mankato, Minnesota.
Thus the Imperial Law of Trumpian Economics appears complete:
When Trumpius raises a tariff scroll in Washingtonium, somewhere in America a machine tool starts humming.
At least that is how the court poets describe it.
The dawn of Pax Automobilia
The White House portrays these developments as evidence of a wider reversal of decades of offshoring.
Companies that once pursued lower labor costs abroad are now committing billions to American plants, strengthening domestic supply chains and expanding production inside the United States.
But in the chronicles of Imperium Trumpianum, the story requires considerably more grandeur.
The factories return.
The assembly lines awaken.
The welding robots sparkle beneath the industrial sun.
Detroitium roars.
Texanum shakes beneath the tires of pickup trucks.
Indianum produces Civics.
Alabamium produces luxury SUVs.
And above them all stands Trumpius Caesar upon the balcony of the Palatium Album, holding aloft a golden torque wrench.
“Look at it,” he proclaims.
“Factories everywhere. Cars everywhere. Jobs everywhere. They said manufacturing was finished. Wrong. Very wrong. Manufacturing came back because it missed me.”
The senators rise.
The trumpets sound.
Somewhere, a V8 engine starts for no particular reason.
And the gathered court cries:
“AVE TRUMPIUS! MORITURI TE MANUFACTURANT!”
The Latin is almost certainly incorrect.
But in the Empire of Trumpius, there is one sacred grammatical rule:
If it sounds tremendous, it is Latin enough.
