Washington, D.C. – October 27, 2025 – In a candid exchange with reporters aboard Air Force One en route to Tokyo, President Donald Trump firmly dismissed the idea of running for vice president in the 2028 election as a means to extend his influence beyond the constitutional two-term limit. The remarks, delivered amid a whirlwind of international diplomacy, underscore the ongoing tension between Trump's enduring popularity within the Republican base and the ironclad barriers of the U.S. Constitution's 22nd Amendment. Yet, even as Trump closed one door, the shadow of his former advisor Steve Bannon's cryptic assertions about a "plan" for a third term lingered, fueling debates about the future of American democracy and the MAGA movement.
Trump, who began his second nonconsecutive term in January 2025 after defeating Vice President Kamala Harris in a razor-thin 2024 contest, addressed the controversial theory head-on. The notion, popularized among some ardent supporters, posits that Trump could sidestep term limits by joining a 2028 Republican ticket as vice presidential nominee—potentially alongside his current vice president, JD Vance—and then ascend to the presidency if the elected president resigned shortly after inauguration. This maneuver, while technically untested, hinges on a narrow interpretation of the 22nd Amendment, which prohibits any person from being elected president more than twice but does not explicitly bar serving additional time through succession.
"I would be allowed to do that," Trump acknowledged, his voice carrying the familiar mix of bravado and candor that has defined his political persona. "But I wouldn’t do it… I think it’s too cute. It wouldn’t be right." He paused, gesturing emphatically to emphasize his point. "The people wouldn’t like that." The 79-year-old president, who will turn 82 by the end of his current term, framed the rejection as a matter of principle rather than legal impossibility, though constitutional scholars have long debated its viability. The 12th Amendment states that no person "constitutionally ineligible to the office of president shall be eligible to that of vice president," a clause that many experts interpret as disqualifying two-term presidents from the VP slot altogether.
The comments came just days after Bannon, the firebrand podcaster and architect of Trump's 2016 upset, ignited fresh controversy in a video interview with The Economist. Bannon, who served as White House chief strategist for seven tumultuous months in 2017 before his ouster, declared unequivocally that Trump "is going to get a third term… Trump is going to be president in ’28. And people just ought to get accommodated with that." Pressed on the 22nd Amendment—ratified in 1951 in response to Franklin D. Roosevelt's unprecedented four terms—Bannon waved it off with a conspiratorial grin: "There’s many different alternatives. At the appropriate time, we’ll lay out what the plan is."
Bannon's remarks, delivered with the zeal of a movement ideologue, echoed earlier hints he dropped at a Greenville County Republican convention in April, where he teased "five or six different alternatives" for Trump's return, claiming "four or five of them are going to work." While Bannon provided no specifics—dismissing concerns about constitutional hurdles as mere details—the implications have reverberated across political circles. Critics, including Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer, decried the rhetoric as "authoritarian fantasy," warning it erodes the democratic norms that have stabilized the presidency since George Washington's voluntary two-term precedent in 1796. Supporters, however, view it as a rallying cry, with social media ablaze under hashtags like #Trump2028, where users speculate on everything from Vance-Rubio tickets to outright constitutional amendments.
Trump's Oval Office has become a subtle shrine to the idea. For months, red MAGA hats emblazoned with "Trump 2028" have adorned the Resolute Desk, handed out to visitors like a wink to the faithful. The Trump Organization began selling them online in April for $50 each, alongside T-shirts bearing the provocative tagline "(Rewrite the Rules)." This merchandising push coincided with Trump's NBC interview in March, where he insisted he was "not joking" about a third term and hinted at "methods" to achieve it—prompting eye-rolls from legal eagles and alarm from Democrats. By August, however, Trump walked it back slightly during a CNBC appearance, saying he would "probably not" run again. Monday's Air Force One gaggle marked his most definitive rejection of the VP gambit yet, though he left the broader door ajar: "I would love to do it. I have my best numbers ever."
The president's poll numbers, hovering at 45.1% approval per RealClearPolitics aggregates, indeed represent a high-water mark for his second term, buoyed by economic rebounds and foreign policy wins like the Abraham Accords expansion. Yet, at 79, Trump's age looms large. He would be the oldest president ever to complete a second term, surpassing Joe Biden's record. A third would push him to 86 by 2033, raising questions about fitness that even allies like Senate Majority Leader John Thune have sidestepped, insisting any extension requires a constitutional overhaul—a process needing two-thirds congressional approval and ratification by 38 states.
Bannon's intervention, timed amid Trump's Asia trip for trade talks with Japan and South Korea, adds a layer of intrigue. The 71-year-old, fresh off a fraud conviction appeal, has repositioned himself as MAGA's unfiltered oracle via his "War Room" podcast, which boasts millions of downloads. His "plan" talk isn't new; in a September NewsNation spot, he alluded to "many different alternatives" without elaboration. Speculation ranges from a Vance-Trump ticket (with Vance resigning post-inauguration) to puppeteering a proxy presidency, though Trump distanced himself from the former on Monday. "Vance and Rubio would be unstoppable," he mused, praising Secretary of State Marco Rubio as a "great guy" while taking swipes at Democrats like Reps. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Jasmine Crockett as "low IQ." "Let AOC go against Trump," he quipped, envisioning a 2028 mismatch that plays to his strengths.
The episode highlights deeper fissures in the GOP. While Trump commands loyalty—evidenced by fervent X chatter from accounts pushing #Trump2028—moderates worry about institutional erosion. Thune, in a CNN interview, called third-term pushes "light-hearted," but privately, Hill Republicans eye 2028 contenders like Vance (seen as Trump's heir) or Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis. On the Democratic side, former VP Harris has hinted at another run, telling The Guardian she's "not done with politics." California Gov. Gavin Newsom, meanwhile, confirmed exploratory talks for 2028, positioning himself as a West Coast counterweight.
Historically, presidential term limits trace to Washington's 1796 farewell address, a voluntary norm shattered by FDR's 1932-1944 tenure amid the Great Depression and World War II. The backlash birthed the 22nd Amendment, a bulwark against executive overreach that Grover Cleveland alone tested with nonconsecutive terms (1885-1889 and 1893-1897). Trump's flirtations evoke FDR-era fears, amplified by his July 2024 rally quip that Christians "won't have to vote anymore" after his win—a line he later called hyperbolic.
As Trump touched down in Tokyo for meetings with Emperor Naruhito and Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi—focusing on tariffs and North Korea—his words rippled stateside. On X, posts tallied thousands of engagements, blending humor ("Trump trolling again") with fervor ("Trump 2028!"). Bannon, undeterred, doubled down in a follow-up tweetstorm, framing Trump as "divine will" incarnate.
For now, Trump's rejection of the VP ploy signals restraint, but Bannon's shadow plan ensures the 2028 conversation simmers. With midterm elections looming and global tensions rising—from Ukraine aid cuts to China trade spats—the third-term specter tests America's commitment to rotational power. As one Northeastern University constitutional expert put it, any circumvention would demand "supermajority miracles," unlikely in a polarized Congress. Trump, ever the showman, thrives on the ambiguity. "I just solved eight wars, and a ninth is coming," he boasted Monday, alluding to his foreign policy ledger. Whether that's prelude to retirement or reloaded ambition remains the $36 T-shirt's unspoken promise.
In the end, Trump's Air Force One soliloquy was less a valediction than a vetting—of ideas, allies, and the electorate's appetite. As he navigates his final years, the question isn't just if he'll run, but how deeply his movement has embedded the notion that rules bend for winners. For a nation founded on checks and balances, it's a reminder: Eternal vigilance isn't just patriotic—it's constitutional.
