War at the Top
Photograph Source: The White House – Public Domain
The falling out between Donald Trump and Elon Musk would make a grand opera. Two titans of business who entered a political marriage of convenience have had a predictable clash of egos and, instead of parting company privately, have flung mud at each other in public. Coming to the Met in 2026: Philip Glass’ monumental Musk v. Trump.
Don’t mistake this affair for mere entertainment. The deeper issue here is corruption and what happens when collusion goes awry, as it so often does.
The ostensible reason for the rift was Musk’s criticism of Trump’s budget bill, which the industrialist rightly pointed out would add trillions to the national debt. With the bill in danger of foundering in the Senate, Trump can’t afford to have a high-profile critic like Musk standing in the way of what might be his only serious legislative initiative.
This disagreement could have remained at the level of policy debate but instead quickly devolved into something closer to a schoolyard squabble. Musk claimed credit for Trump’s election. Trump pointed to Musk’s consumption of drugs during his DOGE rampage. The South Africa-born tycoon asserted a connection between Trump and infamous pedophile Jeffrey Epstein and went so far as to champion Trump’s impeachment. The president threatened to sever all relations between the federal government and Musk’s enterprises. Musk countered with a proposal to stop running flights for NASA, which would effectively end the transportation of U.S. astronauts to the International Space Station.
Both men have since stepped back from the brink (for the time being). Musk removed his Epstein and impeachment tweets from X and even acknowledged that they “went too far.” Trump stopped threatening massive retaliation (except in the case of Musk financially supporting Democrats). And Musk has approved of Trump’s dispatch of the National Guard to California to quash anti-ICE demonstrations.
Trump is famous for forgiving the worst examples of disloyalty—such as J.D. Vance’s comments that Trump was “America’s Hitler” and a “moral disaster—as long as that person has political/financial clout and is willing to grovel at his feet. Though he certainly meets the first condition, Musk is no groveler. So, don’t expect a reconciliation any time soon.
In fact, if contemporary parallels hold true, Musk should be either hiring more security guards, taking on more accountants to thwart an IRS audit, or preparing to relocate overseas.
The Fate of Oligarchs
If you fall afoul of Viktor Orban in Hungary, you might get frozen out of business deals, but you generally don’t have to fear for your life. Hungary is a member of the European Union and a popular tourist destination. However corrupt and autocratic Orban might be, he’s not a contract killer.
The same can’t be said of Vladimir Putin, who uses murder as a principal mode of dissuasion. The Russian leader arranges the assassination of political rivals (like Boris Nemtsov) to discourage serious electoral challenges. He facilitates the elimination of journalists (like Anna Politkovskaya) to ensure that the media doesn’t poke holes in Kremlin narratives. He oversees the removal of human rights activists (Stanislav Markelov) to send a message to civil society that Russia no longer tolerates “independent” spaces.
The business community initially thought itself safe. Most Russian oligarchs were on board with Putin because of the obvious benefits of doing business with the Kremlin. Of course, if you changed your mind about the Russian leader, as did oligarch Boris Berezovsky, you could expect retribution. He survived two apparent attempts to kill him with car bombs before fleeing to the UK where, in 2013, his death was ruled a suicide.
Even if Berezovsky did in fact kill himself—he was involved in an expensive divorce at the time—the Kremlin still managed to communicate its message: bad things happen to those who cross Vladimir Putin. Putin even created the new category of “death by association.” Several of Berezovsky’s associates—Georgian businessman Badri Patarkatsishvili (heart attack), former deputy director of Aeroflot Nikolai Glushkov (strangled with a dog leash)—were also found dead in London.
After Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, oligarchs started dropping dead left and right. John O’Neill and Sarah Wynne write in The Hill:
Vladislav Avayev, an immensely wealthy banker and government official, was found dead in his Moscow apartment, gun in hand, alongside the bodies of his wife and young daughter, all shot to death. He was described by neighbors as a “happy nerd.” Within 24 hours, Sergey Protosenya, a Russian natural gas oligarch, was found hanged in a Spanish villa. Nearby, his wife and young daughter were hacked and stabbed to death with an axe and a knife, both wiped of fingerprints. Much evidence suggests these were murders at the direction of Putin.
The list goes on: an aviation industry exec died after falling off his yacht in Vladivostok, a sausage magnate died after falling out of a hotel window in India, an oil company CEO died after falling from a hospital window in Moscow. Even non-Russian oligarchs who criticized Putin ended up dying in mysterious circumstances, like Latvian-American financier Dan Rapoport, who perishedafter falling out of a building in Washington, DC.
If you’re an oligarch and you criticize Putin, you should probably move into a ranch house.
Should Musk Worry?
Authoritarian regimes routinely dispatch their enemies. Kim Jong Un famously eliminated his uncle, who’d been possibly plotting to take over. Mohammed bin Salman’’s henchmen took a bone saw to prominent Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi. In the Philippines, under Rodrigo Duterte, more than a dozen outspoken journalists were killed.
Corrupt, semi-democratic states, meanwhile, go after their critics in other ways: squeezing their assets, taking them to court, forcing them out of the country. At the moment, Donald Trump is going down this road. As his dispatch of National Guard troops to Los Angeles demonstrates, he is certainly interested in quashing dissent. But he is generally doing so in more bureaucratic ways—firing federal workers, eliminating funding for NPR and PBS, leaning on universities.
When it comes to the corporate world, Trump has demanded fealty and, in return, has distributed administration positions like expensive party favors. Billionaires Howard Lutnick, Linda McMahon, and Scott Bessent serve in his cabinet. Several billionaires were given plum ambassadorial positions (Warren Stephens to the UK, Charles Kushner to France). Through the power of his office, he has made lapdogs of Jeff Bezos and Mark Zuckerberg. In the wake of the feud between Trump and Musk, Bill Gates visited the White House, hat in hand, to plead for the resumption of USAID funding.
Musk is perhaps the first high-profile, high-assets apostate. Given the resources at his disposal and his desire to influence elections, an anti-Trump Musk could pose a risk to MAGA Republicans. Ro Khanna (D-CA) even reached out to Musk’s people to see if he could help the Dems in the mid-terms. But bringing the most hated man in America into a party that has its own problems coddling the rich is not going to win any elections.
The Musk Affair is useful in other respects. It is the most prominent example of the corrupt practices of the Trump administration. Trump rewards his loyalists with power and money. He has fired the federal workforce not only to decimate the “deep state” but also to have thousands of new opportunities to distribute favors. The flip side of this patronage system is the punishment of defectors. Putin communicated the price of disloyalty very clearly to the oligarchs who dared to protest the war in Ukraine or the business practices of the Russian government. He has been careful, however, to maintain plausible deniability. Other leaders similarly punish their powerful opponents behind the scenes.
Trump prefers to make his threats in public no matter how unethical the actions might be. The cancelation of federal contracts with Musk’s companies would be as corrupt as the awarding of them in return for his political favors. Because he is an autocrat, Putin can act with impunity when he kills his challengers. Trump also aspires to act with impunity—indeed, his lawyers have argued before the Supreme Court that he has immunity for practically anything he does as president.
Corruption, however, has taken down many a ruler—Ferdinand Marcos, Viktor Yanukovych, Jacob Zuma. This could be Trump’s Achilles’ heel. Citizens tolerate a certain amount of corruption if they themselves are doing okay economically. But once the cuts in government services begin to bite, they will be newly appalled at the politically motivated contracts, the naked grab for money through pyramid scams like meme coins, and all the other pay-to-play games of access in Washington.
Trump can do a lot of damage to Musk and will do so in order to send a message to anyone contemplating disloyalty. But Musk can also do a lot of damage to Trump by amplifying an anti-corruption message through his social media platform. Musk himself is no Alexei Navalny. But if the Musk-Trump war goes hot again after the current ceasefire—and if Musk decides to go public with an insider’s account of the administration’s corrupt practices—it might cause some real damage to the administration.