What Donald Trump’s and Benjamin Netanyahu’s dress choices—or lack of—reveal

U.S. president Donald Trump receiving Israeli prime minister at the White House in April this year. Screen shot: ap/YouTube

By Raiment Young

While political discourse often focuses on words and policies, the visual language of suits plays a subtle yet significant role in how leaders project power. As the world waits with trepidation for Donald Trump’s decision on the escalating Iran-Israel conflict, here’s a look at how he and his partner-in-war, despite their different backgrounds and political stages, employ distinct and often strategic dress styles that contribute to their potent public personas, reinforce their political policies, and communicate unspoken messages to their respective bases: Mr Trump the property magnate-turned-president and Mr Netanyahu the polished war zealot. Both are tethered to the power suit and the flaccid tie, as if they were born in them.

Much has been said about Mr Trump’s suit: oversized and lumpy. Whether in black or navy, they are traditionally cut, but offer no technical advantage to present a trimmer president known for his love of McDonald’s Big Macs and French fries. This seeming lack of tailoring finesse is at odds with the fact that his suits are reportedly made by the Kering-owned Italian house of Brioni—a curious choice given Mr Trump’s persistent call, particularly in his second term, for American-made goods. Under the jacket, mostly with not-too-wide, notched lapels, he wears a conventional white shirt with spread collar. But it is his high-profile tie that most—friend and foe—remember and consider characteristic: extra-long, often bright red as in the red of danger signs, and extending well below the belt, like a lifeline.

Whether in black or navy, they are traditionally cut, but offer no technical advantage to present a trimmer president known for his love of McDonald’s Big Macs and French fries

Benjamin Netanyahu, too, prefers the more conventionally-cut suit, but his is generally better fitted and shows a more refined although conservative tailoring. It has been reported in the Israeli media that the Brooklyn-based Martin Greenfield Clothiers counts Netanyahu as a customer. That Mr Greenfield has won the prime minister’s confidence is perhaps unsurprising as the tailor is a Holocaust survivor. Mr Netanyahu’s business-ready shirts are from a by-now-familiar name, Brioni, as stated by the Israeli press. He often finishes his look with a tie of blue that reflects his nation’s flag—a powerful shade of nationalism and state alignment. But when he meets Mr Trump, he is inclined to pick a red tie, perhaps aiming to mirror the president, or even to double the effect of believable statesmen. Mr Trump has never criticised his chum’s turnout, unlike Ukraine’s less fortunate Volodymyr Zelenskyy.

There is clear political messaging in both men’s rigid styles. While many other politicians such as former president Barack Obama and former Canadian prime minister Justin Trudeau have on many occasions dropped the wearing of ties, Mr Trump and Mr Netanyahu have stuck rather tenaciously to theirs. In many professional circles, such as among tech moguls, the tie has become a veritable relic. But in politics, it remains stubbornly present, to the point that Mr Trump’s cabinet secretaries would not appear before him without one. Despite its decline in civilian life, the tie is still a signifier of legitimacy. It functions as a visual exclamation mark to punctuate a uniform, a phallic symbol communicating dominance and virility. Oddly, even when the casual now rules, both men, especially Mr Trump, appear to be clinging to order in irrefutably chaotic times, when the specter of expanding conflict hangs heavy, casting a chilling shadow over countless lives already grappling with uncertainty.

Despite its decline in civilian life, the tie is still a signifier of legitimacy. It functions as a visual exclamation mark to punctuate a uniform, a phallic symbol communicating dominance and virility

The men’s seemingly pulled-together looks, in fact, obscure something more insidious. Mr Netanyahu’s ties may appear sleek, but behind them is a profound political strategy—to involve the Americans in the war that the Israelis started. Indeed, his sartorial restraint and formality, as seen in the recent ABC News interview with the network’s chief Washington correspondent Jon Karl, hid a calculated strategic clarity: to outsource his war effort to the Americans. The strategically astute Mr Netanyahu has seduced Mr Trump into taking Israel’s side. Mr Trump, in turn, has called for Iran’s “unconditional surrender” and shockingly demanded “everyone should immediately evacuate Tehran”, without offering them safe passage or humanitarian support. While a “bunker buster” bomb is yet to be despatched, Mr Trump has effectively initiated a war, even if a psychological one.

As the details of specific operations and diplomatic manoeuvres slowly unfold, the consistent visual of both Mr Trump and Mr Netanyahu, in their characteristic smart suits and ties, serves to normalize, even sanitize, the harsh realities of conflict, creating a disquieting dissonance for those watching the human toll mount. Their fashion is a subtle form of propaganda, suggesting that the orchestrators of potential wars are not reckless warmongers, but sober, responsible leaders. Unlike Volodymyr Zelenskyy, the two men deciding Iran’s fate are not clad in military fatigues to overtly signal that they are indeed in the midst of a war. This illusion is, however, wearing thin. The true measure of a leader’s agenda lies not in his outward appearance, but in his words and, more importantly, his actions. While both men continue to hide behind their suits to project power, one wears it like an armour, the other like a costume. Benjamin Netanyahu attempts to embody the institution, Donald Trump tries to upstage it.