When Hulk Hogan took the stage at the Fiserv Forum for the final night of the Republican National Convention, he said the vibe was so electric that he felt like he was back in his WWE days, wrestling Andre the Giant.
He’s “in a room full of real Americans, brother,” he added, before ripping his shirt open to reveal a Trump-Vance shirt,
The line probably went over the head of plenty of attendees. Conservatives have talked about “Real America” — embodied by the heartland, suburbia, farms and churches with steeples — and “Real Americans” for decades, contrasting it with Democrats and their non-white, non-Christian, non-heterosexual, unmarried, decadent city-dwellers. And the cleverness of the slightly altered term “Real American” is that it is porous enough to include formerly out-groups, which is how Republicans have sought elide allegations of racism and grow their support of non-white voters throughout the week in Milwaukee.
But anyone who has a cursory understanding of pro-wrestling probably found themselves humming Hogan’s immortal entrance theme.
“I am a real American. Fight for the rights of every man. Fight for what’s right. Fight for your life,” it goes.
For decades, these lyrics echoed through arenas, open-air and closed, as Hogan, the handle-bar mustached hero of pro-wrestling who earned his 24-inch pythons by saying his prayer and eating his vitamins, walked into the ring right before summarily ripping his shirt off and delivering a leg drop. Its spanky guitar, hyper-nationalistic lyrics and bopping beat echoed the excesses of the 1980s that Hogan and a brash businessman from Queens named Donald Trump embodied.
It that was during a time of peak US-led capitalism, when Americans seemed to have a clear idea of who the good guys were. Indeed, many of the Hulkster’s early opponents were embodiments of America’s enemies, such as the Russian villain Nikolai Volkoff, the Iron Sheik, or Canadian Bret “The Hitman” Hart.
That jingoistic American nationalism that came at the height of the Reagan era. In fact, the first Wrestlemania took place in 1985 when Ronald Reagan won his landslide re-election campaign. How fitting, then, that before Hogan took the stage at the RNC this week, a video of the Gipper played. The convention instantly transported America back to the 1980s, when things seemed so much easier.
But nothing is ever that easy. Reagan remained largely indifferent to AIDS, which led to the deaths of countless queer people in the United States. His tax cuts were the beginning of a massive growth of income inequality. His supposed “peace through strength” also came with the Iran-Contra affair.
In the same way, Hogan calling all the Trumpite-cum-Hulkamaniacs “Real Americans”, like everything with pro-wrestling, comes with a large amount of stagecraft and fakery (or, as the wrestling world calls it, kayfabe.)
As Hogan conceded, his real name isn’t Hulk Hogan, but rather Terry Bollea. Those 24-inch pythons came not just with hours in the gym, prayers and vitamins but, as he has admitted in the past, steroid usage. And far from staying true to his wholesome image, he was sacked by the WWE after using racial slurs.
Hogan later apologized for those remarks. But many of his former locker room mates now openly say they dislike him.
Similarly, Trump’s image as a self-made businessman from Queens has multiple holes, given that he was the son of a wealthy real estate developer and the commanding heights of his fame crumbled into bankruptcies in the 1990s. It took the resurgence of nationalism that came after 9/11 and the advent of a new medium that blended fact and alternative fact to revive both Trump and Hogan.
To boot, the hyper-masculine posturing from pro-wrestling has been seen to have a dark side. Trump’s reputation as a “ladies’ man” lightly blanketed him from being held liable for sexually abusing E Jean Carroll for a long time, and for paying hush money to a porn star while his wife carried his youngest child. The two men are also good friends with longtime WWE leader Vince McMahon, whom WWE sacked earlier this year following the filing of a (temporarily paused) lawsuit wherein he was sued for sex trafficking. (It is an allegation McMahon strongly denies.) McMahon’s wife Linda served in Trump’s administration.
What does being a “Real American” mean in Trumpland? It means that as long as you’re in with them, you can weather a whole host of controversies. But it also means that you have to be careful to bend the knee — or wear the T-shirt — otherwise you will end up bludgeoned by a red and yellow boot and a red hat.
What are we gonna do?
Editors’ Note: a previous version of this story said that the first WrestleMania was held in 1984. It was held in 1985. The story has been corrected to reflect this.
