At the White Palatium of Washingtonia, the golden carpet beaters are already being polished, the trumpets tuned, and every eagle in the district has presumably been instructed to look especially presidential.
For Imperator Donaldus J. Trumpius Caesar Magnus and Prima Domina Melania Elegantissima are preparing to receive His Excellency Xi Jinping Maximus Orientalis, President of the People’s Republic of China, together with Madame Peng Liyuan Harmonia.
Naturally, in the Empire of Trumpius, this cannot simply be called a state visit.
That would sound dangerously normal.
Instead, Washingtonia is preparing for a diplomatic spectacle combining imperial ceremony, military pageantry, royal theater, strategic tea consumption, and enough polished brass to temporarily alter the reflection of the sun.
The festivities begin when Trumpius Caesar personally welcomes Xi Maximus and Madame Peng at Jointus Base Andrewsia.
Other administrations might send a motorcade.
Trumpius sends history.
At least that is how the imperial scribes will probably describe it afterward:
The Historic Arrival of Extremely Important Guests Personally Greeted by an Even More Important Host.
The following morning, the ceremonial machinery of the Empire reaches full operating temperature.
The South Lawn of the White Palatium transforms into something halfway between a Roman triumph, a military tattoo, and the world’s most heavily guarded garden party.
Service members from across the armed forces assemble in formation. American and Chinese flags line the ceremonial approach. The Herald Trumpetarii of the Army unleash a fanfare from the South Portico powerful enough to inform half of Virginia that diplomacy is currently occurring.
Trumpius Caesar and Prima Domina Melania then welcome Xi Maximus and Madame Peng beneath the gaze of the imperial architecture, while somewhere in the background an official almost certainly whispers:
“More grandeur.”
Inside the Palatium, The President’s Own Marine Musica Legion performs the national anthems of China and the United States.
Then come the speeches.
Xi Maximus speaks.
Trumpius Caesar speaks.
And somewhere inside the Imperial Office of Presidential Adjectives, several scribes immediately prepare the words:
historic, tremendous, magnificent, unprecedented, beautiful, possibly the greatest diplomatic sentence ever spoken near a Chinese flag.
A lesser government might consider the ceremony complete.
Trumpius does not recognize this concept.
The imperial proceedings continue with precision drill units, military salutes, drums, bugles, rooftop trumpeters, ceremonial formations, and enough synchronized marching to make even the Rose Garden question its career choices.
The Silent Drill Platoonus, the Old Guard Fife-and-Drumus, and the mighty Commandant’s Own Legion of Drums and Bugles all perform before the assembled dignitaries.
Even silence, under Trumpius, apparently requires choreography.
Then comes the finale.
The sky itself joins the state visit.
A B-2 Spiritus and multiple F-22 Raptorii thunder overhead in a military flyover.
Because the diplomatic doctrine of Trumpius appears refreshingly simple:
If trumpets are impressive, stealth bombers are clearly more diplomatic.
While the emperors of geopolitics move on to matters of state, Prima Domina Melania Elegantissima and Madame Peng Harmonia turn toward cultural diplomacy.
Together they visit the Smithsonianum of Asian Art, exploring centuries of artistic achievement and Sino-American cultural exchange.
It promises to be a quieter occasion.
Unless someone from the Imperial Ceremonial Directorate suddenly decides the ancient ceramics need an honor guard.
Later that evening comes the Grand State Banquet of the Eastern Chamber.
Trumpius Caesar and Prima Domina Melania receive Xi Maximus and Madame Peng at the North Portico before escorting them inside for the great dinner.
The menu remains a closely guarded mystery.
In Washingtonia, speculation immediately begins.
Will there be gold-rimmed plates?
Will the bread basket receive diplomatic credentials?
Will dessert arrive under military escort?
Nothing can be ruled out in the Empire.
The next morning, the distinguished couples gather again for tea in the Rubrum Chamber, better known among ordinary mortals as the Red Room.
Tea.
Inside the Trumpius Empire.
One can only hope nobody refers to the cups as “small.”
From there, the presidential party travels to the National Archivum Washingtoniense, where they examine historical records documenting the long and complicated relationship between America and China.
Treaties.
Letters.
Diplomatic records.
Documents reminding everyone that international relations traditionally involve patience, nuance, careful language, and the occasional compromise.
An educational environment indeed for Trumpius Caesar.
At the conclusion of the visit, Imperator Donaldus Trumpius and Prima Domina Melania bid farewell to Xi Maximus and Madame Peng at the National Archivum.
The motorcade departs.
The trumpets fall silent.
The soldiers march away.
The Raptorii disappear beyond the horizon.
And Trumpius Caesar is left standing beneath the imperial Washington sky, contemplating perhaps the most important diplomatic question of all:
Was it magnificent enough — or should the next state visit include elephants?
