What began as a convergence of ambition between Donald Trump and Elon Musk has escalated into a public and politically consequential confrontation—one that now touches the core of Washington’s institutional architecture and sends ripples across the Atlantic.
The two had once appeared to form a mutually advantageous alliance: both were disillusioned with the traditional political class, and both had built personal empires founded on disruption. But that partnership has devolved into what observers now describe as an unfiltered proxy war inside the Republican establishment.
Tensions reached a new height on 5 June, when Donald Trump issued a thinly veiled threat via Truth Social, stating that “the easiest way to save money in our Budget” would be to terminate Elon Musk’s “Governmental Subsidies and Contracts”. Later the same day, Trump announced he intended to sell his personal Tesla Model S, symbolically distancing himself from Musk. The escalation followed a social media tirade by Musk in which he referenced the “Epstein files”—a remark interpreted in Washington as a pointed warning, suggesting Trump’s name might appear in sealed court documents related to the late Jeffrey Epstein.
Musk’s implication that Trump’s name appears in those records marked a dramatic escalation. What had been a conflict over influence and ideology was now shifting into a struggle for reputational survival. The feud no longer revolves around policy—it is about who can politically outlast the other without suffering irreversible damage.
Musk’s position within the Trump administration had long been contentious. Barred by the US Constitution from holding presidential office due to his foreign birth, he was tasked with leading the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), a special executive entity set up to streamline federal operations. From that position, Musk undertook sweeping budget cuts, removed whole agency layers, and restructured public sector contracts—moves that drew significant resistance from within the defence and intelligence community.
At one point, Musk was invited to attend a high-level Pentagon briefing on contingency planning, during which classified information was reportedly discussed, despite him not holding formal security clearance. The incident prompted an internal review and led to his exclusion from future security-related sessions. While the administration attempted to minimise the significance of the episode, it nevertheless raised serious concerns within defence circles.
The partnership began to fray as Trump introduced new economic policies—including sweeping tariffs and the so-called One Big Beautiful Bill Act—that directly undermined DOGE’s cost-saving agenda. While Trump framed the tariffs as a nationalist economic revival, they inflated input costs for manufacturing sectors, including Musk’s own companies. The act’s tax and spending provisions, meanwhile, offset the very budget cuts DOGE had implemented.
Musk’s public clash with Trump’s economic adviser Peter Navarro marked a visible rift within the executive branch. In response to Navarro’s claim that Tesla was merely a “car assembler” dependent on foreign components, Musk fired back on X, calling Navarro “dumber than a sack of bricks” and a “moron.” The exchange underscored growing tensions not only over trade and industrial policy but also over Musk’s increasingly combative posture within Trump’s economic team.
Questions of conflict of interest further weakened Musk’s standing. His extensive business ties to federal defence and aerospace agencies—encompassing more than a dozen contracts—raised concerns about the legality of his policy-making role. Ethics lawyers and lawmakers began pushing back, warning that Musk’s dual role as both contractor and regulator was untenable.
In a symbolic but telling moment, Musk was photographed receiving a ceremonial “golden key” from Trump following his departure from DOGE. A visible bruise beneath one eye raised questions, even as the White House described the exchange as amicable. In reality, insiders suggest the gesture marked the definitive break between the two men.
Republican strategists have grown wary of Musk’s influence, particularly over digital platforms. His control of X (formerly Twitter) had made him a valuable political asset. But as he began to use it to challenge federal narratives, criticise officials, and suggest the release of compromising material, he was viewed less as a partner and more as a destabilising actor.
For Europe, this feud carries direct implications. Musk’s platforms have previously been used to amplify anti-European messaging, including attacks on the German and British governments. Trump’s prior clashes with EU leaders over trade and NATO funding remain fresh in the minds of European policymakers. With American policy now shaped in part by internecine conflict, European capitals face growing uncertainty about Washington’s strategic coherence.
What is unfolding is no longer a personal spat, but a collision between two competing visions of influence: one based on institutional control, the other on algorithmic reach. Trump’s return to executive power is now coloured by his efforts to sideline a figure who had, for a time, become his de facto minister for reform.
Analysts warn that the weaponisation of classified material—particularly in relation to the Epstein case—may tip this feud into dangerous territory. While the contents of the sealed files remain unknown, Musk’s public reference to them has prompted speculation that further disclosures could destabilise more than just the current administration.
