How the war it once cheered on tore MAGA apart
A war meant to project strength has exposed deep fractures within the MAGA movement, as economic strain, ideological conflict and political infighting erode the unity that once defined Trump’s base
When the first missiles of Operation Epic Fury lit up the night skies over Iran in early 2026, the MAGA movement appeared to be at the zenith of its power and unity. On 4 March 2025, during a joint session of Congress, the atmosphere was electric with "America First" triumphalism.
Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene stood prominently in the chamber, clutching an American flag and wearing a red baseball cap that defiantly declared, "Trump was right about everything". After the President's address, he leaned in to give her a kiss as she beamed, signalling what many thought would be an ironclad alliance for his second term.
At that moment, the GOP and the MAGA base were almost entirely behind him. Early polling showed that 84% of Republicans and nine in ten MAGA-aligned voters supported the aggressive posture towards the Iranian regime.
For a movement built on the projection of strength, the initial campaign—which eventually grew to over 15,000 US and Israeli airstrikes—seemed like the ultimate validation of Trump's leadership. The base cheered the news of the death of high-ranking Iranian officials such as Ali Larijani, the secretary of Iran's Supreme National Security Council, seeing it as a "mission accomplished" moment.
However, the celebratory mood began to sour as the "12-day war" stretched into a prolonged conflict with no apparent exit strategy. The disruption of the Strait of Hormuz, which affected 20% of the world's oil market, sent shockwaves through the American economy. In the MAGA heartland, the promise of an "economic miracle" was replaced by skyrocketing petrol prices and a falling stock market.
Influential voices such as Joe Rogan began to speak for a growing segment of the base, telling his millions of listeners that voters felt "betrayed" by a president who had spent years pledging an end to "forever wars".
The ideological rift soon exploded into an "extremely ugly" and vulgar "battle royale" among MAGA media stars. Figures such as Tucker Carlson and Megyn Kelly began to question whether the war served American interests or those of "Israel-firsters".
The infighting became personal and crude; after radio host Mark Levin called Kelly an "emotionally unhinged, lewd and petulant wreck", Kelly fired back by branding him "microp*n*s Mark", a comment that Marjorie Taylor Greene—now a vocal critic of the war—publicly and "wholeheartedly" supported.
This was not just social media clickbait; it was a visible fracturing of a movement torn between personal fealty to Trump and a fierce opposition to Middle Eastern entanglements.
The pressure reached a breaking point with the high-profile resignation of Joe Kent, a retired Army Ranger and top counter-terrorism director. Kent, once a staunch Trump loyalist, published a scathing letter stating that he could not "in good conscience" support a war that offered "no benefit to the American people", nor justified the cost in American lives.
The pressure reached a breaking point with the high-profile resignation of Joe Kent, a retired Army Ranger and top counter-terrorism director. Kent, once a staunch Trump loyalist, published a scathing letter stating that he could not "in good conscience" support a war that offered "no benefit to the American people", nor justified the cost of American lives.
His defection signalled that a major "red line" had been crossed. By March 2026, a Quincy Institute poll revealed a staggering shift in the rank and file: 79% of Trump's own 2024 voters now wanted him to "declare victory and get out".
While the war raged abroad, domestic scandals further eroded trust. MAGA supporters were particularly incensed by reports of opulent, Gatsby-themed parties at the White House and expensive renovations involving marble and gold gilding. Critics such as MSNBC's Nicolle Wallace noted that, for many loyalists, the realisation was dawning that "America First" actually meant "Trump and the billionaires first".
This sentiment was compounded by a $40 billion bailout for Argentina and Trump's support for more H-1B visas, which many populists saw as a direct betrayal of his promises to American workers.
The political fallout was cataclysmic. Trump turned his fury on his former "foot soldier", Marjorie Taylor Greene, after she began criticising his focus on foreign policy over domestic needs. He tested out a new nickname for her—"Marjorie Taylor Brown"—mocking her by saying, "Green grass turns Brown when it begins to ROT!" Greene refused to back down, suggesting that she, rather than Trump, was now the true champion of the "America First" agenda.
By the time the national UMass poll was released in late March 2026, the damage was undeniable. Trump's approval rating had plummeted to a second-term low of 33%. Perhaps most concerning for the White House was that 21% of his 2024 voters now expressed concerns or outright regret about their choice.
The movement that had once unified behind the red "Trump was right about everything" slogan had broken apart, leaving a fractured base to navigate a war they no longer wanted and a leader they no longer fully trusted.
