Election Night Jubilation Outside Mar-a-Lago

On Tuesday, as Americans across the country headed to the polls, a few dozen members of the MAGA faithful flocked to the road outside Mar-a-Lago, where they spent the day tailgating, dancing, and praying for Donald Trump’s restoration to the White House.

This was a pilgrimage for some of Trump’s most loyal supporters. Many hailed from Florida, but others had traveled from as far as California to be there, Zack Wittman, who photographed the scene for The Atlantic, told me. They wore their enthusiasm for Trump proudly, and literally: Almost everyone sported some kind of MAGA apparel. Among the regalia on display were shirts featuring Trump’s mug shot, a leather vest with a Trump Save America patch, and an FJB necklace (suffice it to say, the JB stands for Joe Biden).

A group of five people are seen from behind sitting on a truck with flags and bright lights shining on them.

As the polls began to close, the crowd gathered in front of the TV and said a prayer for Trump’s electoral chances. They became more somber as they waited for the returns to trickle in. The swing states were initially too close to call, and some attendees groaned about electoral fraud, Wittman told me. They wanted a victory that was “too big to rig,” they said. As the hours passed, their wish began to materialize. By the middle of the night, the preliminary results pointed clearly to a Trump victory. At the Palm Beach County Convention Center, where Trump would deliver his victory speech, people hoped to catch a glimpse of the motorcade or even the man himself. The surrounding area became a site for celebration. People hugged, cheered, and danced in the rain. They spoke of “taking the country back” and their glee at how unhappy Nancy Pelosi would be, Wittman said.

In a diptych, there is a white woman wearing a white shirt leaning forward revealing her necklace and next to her is a white woman in a red car shining her phone at the camera and waving.

A group of Trump supporters gather around a television screen with Steve Bannon on it.

The movement surrounding Trump has always contained an element of ecstatic joy. The Atlantic’s John Hendrickson recently noted the “carnival-type atmosphere” in the crowds at Trump’s rallies, where attendees seemed to have a powerful sense that they were part of something bigger than themselves. Throughout the campaign, however, Trump supporters’ happiness could not be total. If they took Trump’s dark, angry rhetoric at face value, then the country was failing, under attack from within. The government was out to get them. Under those circumstances, they couldn’t be too thrilled about the state of things.

Until Tuesday. For one night, at least, the anger and paranoia were gone. Only the joy remained.