n the final stretch of the 2024 US presidential election, America watched stunned as chaos played out live on their screens. A sudden, visceral event—a failed assassination attempt against Donald Trump — became not just a news headline but also a turning point that rippled across the American psyche.

The raw, immediate footage of Trump facing mortal danger was viewed and shared in real-time, evolving from news to collective myth within hours. What should have been a footnote in an election already marked by tension and polarisation instead became the story reshaping the election’s trajectory and ultimately delivering Trump a path back to the White House.

What followed was a powerful media spectacle, as analysts, anchors and public figures assessed Trump’s survival not through the lens of policy or performance, but with a tone bordering on the reverential. He became an icon of resilience, a symbol of something greater than himself. A man seemingly delivered by fate to fulfill America’s needs, to answer a national calling. In doing so, media abandoned reasoned analysis for a portrayal that bordered on myth-making, glossing over political agendas in favour of emotional potency. The danger and his defiance morphed into a transformative symbol in the minds of many voters, a rallying cry that bypassed logic and went straight to the core of American identity.

The theatre of survival

The broadcast of the assassination attempt struck a nerve at the intersection of spectacle and vulnerability. Trump, once a figure of grandiosity, was suddenly vulnerable, forced to confront death on the national stage. The sight of him emerging unharmed — defiant, unshaken and apparently reinforced in his conviction — sent an immediate message: here was a man who could not be brought down. The effect was electric, his defiance stirring a part of the American psyche attuned to tales of survival, resilience and destiny.

It was not so much Trump’s policies or promises that gripped viewers but rather the story he embodied, now infused with mortal stakes. Media seized on this, amplifying the emotional resonance of Trump’s image as one of national strength. Trump’s presence was no longer just political; he became the manifestation of American courage, almost sanctified by the attempt on his life. In broadcasting his survival, the media helped transform him into a figure of quasi-mythical significance, a man whose mission was ordained, whose purpose was affirmed in the heat of danger.

A God-given gift

The immediacy of the media’s coverage allowed this story to take root in the minds of Americans in ways that reasoned debate simply could not. Commentators across the political spectrum began to cast Trump’s survival in terms of divine purpose. On news networks and social media, language normally reserved for religious or mythical heroes found a place in discussions of the former president’s survival. Political figures speculated on air that Trump’s survival had ‘a higher meaning,’ that he was a “God-given gift to serve America.”

This framing was compelling in its emotional immediacy, eclipsing any rational discourse on Trump’s qualifications, policy positions or past missteps. The public response fed on itself, with each segment and each viral post compounding the feeling that Trump was no longer merely a candidate, but an answer to a national question. Coverage became saturated with musings on fate, destiny and American resilience. The act of surviving came to represent something far larger, a kind of transcendent defiance that appealed deeply to voters on an instinctive, even spiritual level.

Winning the ‘bro vote’

Behind this surge was Trump’s relentless mastery of media and his unerring ability to sense America’s simmering grievances. From his past as a reality TV star to his seasoned use of social media, Trump has always understood that in the modern political landscape, image is everything. His 2024 campaign took this media mastery further, conducting a non-traditional media tour that included appearances on popular podcasts and YouTube channels aimed at young men, a demographic crucial to his support. Nicknamed his Bro Tour, this strategy appealed to young, disaffected male voters with whom Trump emphasised strength, resilience and defiance of establishment norms. He painted himself as the ultimate masculine protector, a man unafraid to assert himself against both his enemies and cultural forces seen as weakening the nation.

In a divided America, where ideological echo chambers define reality for many, the emotional tenor of Trump’s near-tragedy was amplified rather than examined. Media organisations leaned into this emotion, bypassing opportunities for sober analysis and critical thinking. Network after network ran segments reflecting on Trump’s ‘unbreakable spirit’ and his ‘ordained mission.’ Headlines used terms like ‘divine intervention,’ drawing viewers into an emotional frame that felt closer to a fable than to a presidential campaign.

Trump’s messaging leaned heavily into a growing reactionary movement that framed progressive gender and equality efforts as threats to tradition and national identity. In interviews and speeches, Trump cast himself as a bulwark against social changes that, in his telling, were eroding the very foundation of American society. He condemned ‘gender ideology,’ declaring it a force that “…destroys families and weakens men’s natural roles as leaders and defenders.” His language aligned with global anti-gender sentiment, tapping into fears that elites were stripping away American values and promoting an agenda that left men particularly disempowered. To supporters, Trump’s rhetoric wasn’t just about policy; it was about protecting a cherished identity.

The appeal of the

warrior archetype

This imagery of masculinity and defiance resonated particularly with a base that felt disillusioned, dismissed by a political establishment that increasingly embraced progressive social policies. Trump’s campaign amplified these emotions, rebranding them as a populist call to arms against elites and the so-called deep state. In a rallying cry that echoed through social media and his campaign speeches, Trump positioned himself not just as a president but as a warrior on a divine mission. “I am your warrior. I am your justice. And for those who have been wronged and betrayed, I am your retribution. I will obliterate the deep state,” he declared, inviting his followers to see in him a hero capable of reversing the social tides threatening their way of life.

This messaging struck a powerful chord with supporters who felt left behind by an evolving society that questioned traditional gender roles and values. In Trump, they saw someone willing to fight against forces they felt were warping the nation. His aggressive, confrontational style spoke to voters’ anxieties about masculinity and identity, offering them the promise of restoration, a return to a time when their grievances could be voiced without fear. By the time election night arrived, Trump’s base was galvanised, bound by a shared identity that felt threatened and in need of protection—a cause Trump had pledged to champion, no matter the cost.

Emotion over reason

In a divided America, where ideological echo chambers define reality for many, the emotional tenor of Trump’s near-tragedy was amplified rather than examined. Media organisations leaned into this emotion, bypassing opportunities for sober analysis and critical thinking. Network after network ran segments reflecting on Trump’s ‘unbreakable spirit’ and his ‘ordained mission.’ Headlines used terms like ‘divine intervention,’ drawing viewers into an emotional frame that felt closer to a fable than to a presidential campaign. This storytelling apparatus drowned out attempts to bring the election back to policy or experience; the raw image of Trump’s survival had eclipsed these things, leaving little room for dissent or discussion.

It wasn’t just traditional media; social media platforms became an incubator for this fervour. In a few clicks, audiences could engage in a cycle of communal outrage, relief and hope, each new post stoking the sense that Trump was untouchable, a man with a destiny entwined with America’s own. Hashtags invoking Trump’s name with a sense of reverence proliferated, as did images and quotes emphasising his apparent resilience and indestructibility. Memes and fan art proliferated, creating an alternative language of adulation that rendered criticism hollow or irrelevant. This reframing proved potent enough to override reservations among the undecided or apathetic voters, lending Trump’s campaign a gravity that no debate or policy ad could hope to rival.

A mirror for a

fractured America

In the end, the media’s role in Trump’s victory became a reflection of American society itself: fractured, polarised and more easily moved by visceral, emotive storytelling than by calculated reason. Media presented Trump as more than a man — he was a symbol, a survivor in a time when Americans themselves felt besieged by crises. Rather than interrogate the reality behind Trump’s near-death experience, the media allowed itself to become an echo chamber for the emotions this event stirred, using language that subtly deified him, emphasising narrative over truth.

As the results of the 2024 election came in, the impact of this moment was unmistakable. Millions of Americans, swept up in the emotion of the story, had voted for a symbol rather than a president, casting their ballots for a man who had transcended his faults and failures in the crucible of survival. In this media landscape, Trump’s flaws seemed irrelevant. His missteps were forgiven in light of the moment that made him, in the eyes of many, a chosen leader.

In searing Trump’s image into the American consciousness as something more than mortal, the media not only ignored rationality — they also rewrote the rules of electoral narrative. In this new era, image overshadowed argument, the heart ruled the head and America voted with its pulse, choosing a candidate made holy by the power of the story. In doing so, the nation crossed into a new chapter, where politics became mythology and a presidential campaign became a tale of divine survival.

The writer is a critic and essayist who splits his time between Toronto, London and Geneva.