As the United States approaches the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence in 2026, a fierce debate has erupted over how the nation’s story should be told—and who gets to decide. President Donald Trump, now deep into his second term, has set his sights on the Smithsonian Institution, the country’s sprawling network of museums and cultural centers, demanding a dramatic shift in how American history is presented to the public. His administration’s efforts to reshape the Smithsonian are emblematic of a broader push to redefine the boundaries of public discourse, with implications reaching far beyond the museum walls.
On August 14, 2025, President Trump made his intentions clear: he wants Smithsonian museums to present history "not in a woke manner." Earlier this year, he issued an executive order asserting that the Smithsonian had "come under the influence of a divisive, race-centered ideology." According to Fox News, the White House followed up with a letter to Smithsonian Secretary Lonnie Bunch III, announcing a planned review of exhibitions and materials. The stated goal? To "ensure alignment with the President’s directive to celebrate American exceptionalism, remove divisive or partisan narratives, and restore confidence in our shared cultural institutions."
The Smithsonian’s current mission, as stated on its website, is to "explore the history and legacy of race and racism in the United States and globally," aiming to "spark positive social change and build a more equitable shared future through interdisciplinary scholarship, creative partnerships, dialogue, and engagement." This approach, which permeates all 21 museums, libraries, and even the National Zoo, has drawn sharp criticism from the Trump administration and its supporters, who argue that it overshadows stories of American triumph and innovation.
Exhibitions like "Latinas Report Breaking News" and "American Enterprise" exemplify the Smithsonian’s recent focus on narratives that highlight diversity, the struggles of marginalized groups, and the complex interplay between capitalism and democracy. The institution has also expanded its reach abroad, providing hands-on science education in Mexico, supporting museums in Oman, and studying sunken slave ships off the coast of Mozambique. While some see these efforts as valuable diplomacy, others question whether such programs align with the Smithsonian’s core mission or taxpayer expectations.
Attendance figures underscore the stakes of this debate. Despite a budget that has ballooned from $350 million in 2000 to $1.09 billion in 2024, the Smithsonian’s annual visitors have dropped from 40 million to just 16.8 million over the same period. Iconic exhibitions like the Natural History Museum’s "Vikings: The North Atlantic Saga" once drew standing-room-only crowds, while today’s featured objects include a table used to draft a declaration of women’s rights and a sign from a D.C. health center for Latina immigrants. For critics, these choices signal a shift away from what they see as the Smithsonian’s original purpose: celebrating American achievement and exceptionalism.
President Trump’s drive to overhaul the Smithsonian is just one front in a much larger campaign to assert executive control over American civil society. According to The New York Times, his administration has been "among the most intrusive in American history," extending its reach into the economy, culture, and legal system. Economically, Trump has dictated corporate behavior through tariffs, subsidies, and the selective punishment or reward of industries. Culturally, he has pressured universities, elevated grievance politics, and reshaped federal agencies to reflect ideological loyalty—a trend now playing out in the Smithsonian controversy.
Legal scholars warn that the Trump administration is aggressively reshaping the federal judiciary and using the Justice Department for political ends. Rogers Smith, a political scientist at the University of Pennsylvania, drew a stark historical parallel, writing, "No peacetime president has remotely approached the Trump administration’s campaign to control the conduct of all the major institutions that comprise American civil society as well as its governments." Sean Wilentz of Princeton described Trump’s efforts as "intimidating major institutions of civil society, including universities, major law firms, and the corporate media, to bend them to his will." He added, "He has deployed the military for political purposes" and "militarized ICE," laying the basis for what he called a "police state."
For many historians, Trump’s attempt to rewrite the American historical narrative is particularly troubling. Wilentz argued that Trump is "commanding a rewriting of American history as a providential story culminating in his own divinely inspired rule." Approaching the nation’s semiquincentennial, Trump’s critics see his push as an effort to recast the Revolution’s legacy in service of his own political agenda.
Yet not everyone agrees that Trump’s interventions are unprecedented. Terri Brimes, a political scientist at Berkeley, noted that Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal and wartime policies were more sweeping in scale, but Roosevelt sought and often encountered resistance from Congress and the courts. By contrast, Trump has relied heavily on executive orders and emergency declarations, facing far less institutional pushback. Jeremi Suri of the University of Texas-Austin pointed to Abraham Lincoln’s wartime measures as even more intrusive, but stressed that Trump’s willingness to act unilaterally and "on personal whim, largely ignoring separation of powers," is new in peacetime.
Within the Smithsonian itself, the administration’s campaign has put Secretary Lonnie Bunch III under intense scrutiny. Bunch, the first African American director of the Smithsonian and founding director of the National Museum of African American History and Culture, has defended the institution’s focus on the "whole and complex story" of America. When questioned by Congress about a controversial graphic that linked "hard work," "individualism," and "the nuclear family" to "white culture," Bunch responded that the item had been removed, but he has continued to champion exhibitions that confront the legacy of racism and exclusion. In an introduction to the exhibition "In Slavery’s Wake," Bunch wrote, "A strong current of political leaders wants to prevent the public from engaging with Black history, which they deem ‘too divisive,’ and create a culture of silence."
The administration’s critics warn that the White House’s intervention threatens the independence and expertise of museum professionals. Sarah Weicksel, executive director of the American Historical Association, told The Wall Street Journal, "If those things are taken out of the hands of historians, the public stands to lose a great deal in having reliable and engaging content that tells a whole and complex story of the American past."
From the right, supporters of Trump’s campaign argue that the Smithsonian has strayed too far from its founding mission and that a course correction is overdue. They see the emphasis on race, gender, and social justice as divisive and out of step with the majority of Americans. For them, the 250th anniversary is an opportunity to reaffirm national pride and celebrate the country’s achievements.
For all the heated rhetoric, what happens next at the Smithsonian will likely set a precedent for other cultural institutions. As the nation heads toward its milestone anniversary, the debate over who gets to tell America’s story—and how that story is told—has never felt more urgent or more consequential.
As the Smithsonian faces its most significant reckoning in decades, the outcome will shape not only how Americans understand their past, but also how they imagine their future.
