Human groups have long had a proclivity towards forming hierarchies. For some reason we’re most comfortable having somebody or a few somebodies at the top, many somebodies at the bottom, and the rest of the somebodies scattered at various levels in the middle. In our humble hunter-gatherer days, this rigid social structure was not always that pronounced, but with the advent of agriculture and human settlement – so-called “civilization” – hierarchy sort of took over big time, giving us pharaohs and kings and queens, sultans and emperors and empresses, grand poobahs and what have you. These top dogs, along with the various sycophants and aspirants-to-power-and-wealth with which they tend to surround themselves, have come to be known as Very Important Persons, or VIPs.
Politics and wealth tend to be inseparable and co-dependent, at least at the higher levels of money and government, where obsession with power, more often than not, is a way of life. Commonly found in this heady territory are VIPs of all stripes, driven to constantly remind the world of how Very Important they are (unlike you and I), part of their need to constantly remind themselves of this fact. Human history is rife with the follies of excess that characterize the rich. Ancient Egyptians had their glorious tombs, filled with costly junk to accompany them in the afterlife; the top dogs of today have their mansions and fancy cars, private airplanes and humongous yachts and designer clothes, and their serious intentions of never dying, if enough money makes that possible.
Conspicuous consumption in and of itself conveys a message that is unambiguous and rather crude, when you think about it: I have a whole lot more than you, I am way more comfortable and happy and secure than you are, and are you not envious? One can dig into the details of more of what, exactly? but does it really matter, and do you really care? Lifestyles of the rich and famous were a preoccupation for a certain segment of the Less Important long before Robin Leach and the TV show of that name came and went, and the fascination will go on forever, or at least until humanity evolves into the classless society described by Karl Marx, but don’t hold your breath waiting for that to happen.
Of greater and more consequential interest are the VIPs who inhabit the political realm, where power takes precedence over wealth, if not by much. Conspicuous consumption was at one time a hallmark for heads of state, a tradition that seriously began to fade about the time of the French Revolution, where the obscene flaunting of wealth contributed to a literal loss of some Very Important Heads. In modern times, political VIPs exude wealth in more subtle and understated ways, starting with their pronounced inaccessibility to the general public, surrounded as they always are by entourages and layers of bodyguards.
There may be no place like home, but a large segment of humanity has long been obsessed with being on the move. This impulse is carried to extremes in modern America, where the annual total mileage driven is somewhere beyond three trillion, if you can believe that. Add to that the mileage from air travel and one starts to wonder if the need to get around has not gotten a bit out of hand, a concern you may be hearing for the first time here, the website of a raving old man. In the US, sprawl is a major factor, and finding your dream house at an affordable price means for many the need to travel 50 miles or more to work, which some may grump about, but it’s how America rolls. And rolls and rolls. That’s just one example among many, and the fact is driving is a way of life, with no serious consequence, right? Before you start bellyaching about global warming and outrageous death and injury totals or some other such nonsense, never forget that the cultural consensus is that the benefits far outweigh the costs. The life not spent on the move is not worth living.
Which has long been the case for heads of state and their minions. Genghis Khan, for one, conquered a good part of Asia partly because of the Mongolian horse, perfect for his nomadic military needs. They say 40 of them were sacrificed at his funeral, pretty sad but such is the twisted way of human logic, in what was somehow a sign of how those horses were a really big deal. Even before the 13th century, horse-drawn chariots added an aura of Importance to the VIPs who used them, and for somebody like a Roman general, it could be a resplendent and intimidating deal, indeed, the better to impress. At some point, in feudal times and afterwards, the royal carriage became the conveyance of choice, offering privacy and luxury and insulation from the masses, while demonstrating power of the grandest sort. Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette had theirs, as did Cinderella, though hers was on a short term lease.
Modern leaders, out of prudence or political wisdom, have scaled back somewhat on the excesses, opting for less glitz and muted colors. In the motor age, open cars that put the VIPs on display were common, though the exposure of a head of state to any violent disgruntled nut by the roadside with a gun proved to make this a bad choice, as in the case of Archduke Ferdinand. Better security along the motorcade route was later seen as a way to avoid a repeat event – political VIPs have long been aware of the popularity to be gained by openly displaying themselves to an adoring public – but this strategy proved vulnerable to advancements in sniper weaponry, which, combined with a skilled shooter, led to the tragic downfall of JFK in Dallas.
Incredibly, even after that event, Queen Elizabeth continued to roll about the streets of London in a Rolls Royce Phantom limo that was not bulletproof, showing her faith in British civility. This faith prevailed until the 21st century, when cooler heads decided British civility was no longer what it once was, and bulletproof Bentleys became the norm for Royal transport.
Modern times have brought us the glorious Age of Aviation, when VIPs flaunt their wealth by endlessly wandering the world in private jets, from one exotic locale and five-star hotel to the next. For heads of state, travel has become essential, as a matter of diplomacy and expression of state power, and where you appear when, and with whom, makes a statement to the world about your status in the world of global politics. A basic tool for achieving this is your official state airplane. Every VIP in this realm has one, though leaders of lesser countries make do with standard military hardware. Those of greater status (and equally grander state budgets) have specifically designated one-of-a-kind planes-of-state, modified production airliners with jazzed up security and telecommunications systems, and amenities that befit the VI VIPs that employ them.
Such super-special planes offer a grand opportunity to make a visual statement to the world. A recent posting on this site offered a brief history of US presidential airplanes, that go all the way back to the late 1940s, with President Harry Truman’s plane even having a special name, The Independence, after his home town in Missouri. The chosen motif is that of the national bird, a bald eagle. Not the most creative of choices, perhaps, but look at what they did with it! Bold and distinctive, a “bird” with a look of serious determination. The bald eagle bespeaks awesome size and power, sharing attributes with the nation it symbolizes.
In retrospect, the design may also come across to some as cartoony and even a bit silly, but the zeitgeist in 1950 was no doubt much different from now, when there was nothing funny about US prestige and power.
It is also possible that Harry’s successor, Dwight Eisenhower, might have had an objection of this nature. At any rate, his plane reverted to standard mundane military livery, unpainted silver overall, except for several discreet paintings of columbine flowers on the nose and by the exit door. Ike’s plane had a name, just like Harry’s, The Columbine, only the message was far more sentimental and personal than anything patriotic or political. America was the unrivaled superpower of the world in the 1950s, which went without saying. Maybe that was the sly message the victorious WWII general wanted the world to just sort of think about, when he showed up in his plane.
Another president, another need for a new identity and personal statement. President Kennedy got the update of updates, a jet plane to swoosh us into the modern era. He dispensed with any kind of personal name – all presidential planes from that point on have been designated Air Force One, sentimentality be damned. Kennedy’s plane got a fancy though tasteful and very distinctive new paint job, concocted by industrial designer Raymond Loewy with input from Jackie, the President’s wife, a woman of the elite class with a passion for French designer clothes and whose sophisticated influence is most evident.
So what’s the message? What does this distinctive one-of-a-kind plane exude, as it sets down on the runway of your first- or second- or maybe even third-world “developing” country, assuming such a country has a runway long enough to handle something of such gargantuan size? Make way for the top dog superpower, and be humbled. Make way for the Leader of the Free World. Behold what wealth and good taste and executive power can achieve, and aren’t you jealous?
The fact is, this plane and it’s timeless message and color scheme sufficed through ten US presidential administrations, testimony to its utter perfection, with let us hope some enduring reverence for an assassinated president who died before his time. It is just as likely that updating the plane’s appearance has long been simply a non-priority, as in if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Fact is, it’s kind of a pretty plane, isn’t it? And so utterly distinctive, a look the world has come to know well for lo these 60 years. Why mess with a good thing?
Why, indeed? One good reason would be if you were someone obsessed with messing with all things within your purview, good bad and indifferent. And that your goal in life was to put your personal stamp on everything with which you come in contact, and you had the power to do this. In the case of Air Force One, this means you’d have to be the President of the United States. Donald Trump meets all these criteria, and being gifted a bigger better newer plane by the nation of Qatar – his plane and his alone, not some ancient piece of junk he inherited from his inferior predecessors – has made a new paint job a no-brainer. Why he didn’t change the color scheme in his first administration remains a mystery that future historical research will have to explain, if it ever happens.
Much has been written about the man’s love of pomp and ridiculous grandeur in all things, described by some as an over-the-top gold-heavy imperial aesthetic. The Oval Office, long known for its restrained elegance no matter who the President, has become a room in which Louis the Fourteenth would no doubt feel right at home. And right there, prominently flying over the Presidential coffee table, is a model of his plane.
And just look at it! A perfect match for the man’s suit, restrained executive elegance and not over-the-top at all. It actually clashes with the room’s decor. One wonders what the hell happened. Is it possible he wanted an Air Force One in resplendent gold, and somebody talked him out of it, like maybe such a plane would be too heavy to fly? The red, white, and blue motif in some ways is more “patriotic” than the plane he inherited, and patriotism is a big part of the man’s brand, despite many executive actions that have called his love of country (as opposed to love for himself) into question of late. This Air Force One’s appearance is one of tasteful corporate constraint, in keeping with the current workings of the world, where corporate political power rivals that of governments.
Boring, lookalike color schemes seem to be the order of the day for the airplanes assigned to the heads-of-state of the world. A cursory, very incomplete survey shows an overwhelming choice of white, with some bearing a contrasting underside color, the nation’s flag on the tail, and accent colors that tend to match it. Some schemes exhibit waviness, in a display of restrained exuberance. Counterintuitively, Canada’s scheme is the wildest of all, given that “wild” in this context is a very relative term, and some Canadians might politely and respectfully dispute this claim.
So is it possible an opportunity is getting seriously missed here? We’re talking very special, one-off symbols of a country’s identity, that make a statement whenever these planes take to the air. So why the overwhelmingly boring conformity? Why the utter blandness? Do the rules of statecraft dictate such timidity and total lack of imagination, or even the slightest hint of boldness? In most other realms, individual nation-states can’t say enough about how special and different and distinctive they are, compared to other countries. So why do they all totally drop the ball in this one?
It doesn’t have to be this way. All it would take is a release from the constraints that are currently so powerfully in place. This is not happening or is about to happen in the real world, or so it appears. So let us retreat to the ravings of our imagination, where anything goes. It is here where ideas can get freely floated, or in this case, planes-of-state can take to the skies looking however the hell we can imagine they might look, making whatever clear or obscure, dramatic or ludicrous statement we choose to make. One could perform this exercise with any nation’s plane-of-state, but we shall restrict ourselves here to the one we know best, America’s Air Force One, not only out of a sense of deep patriotic duty but also because it means we can imagine ourselves posted to the highest office in the land, replacing the unfortunate soulless spirit currently spreading so much misery and fear. Nothing can beat that.
For starters, how about expressing a message that retains the old school red, white, and blue of Old Glory, while also sharing it with another set of symbolic colors that in themselves are quite lovely, those of the rainbow?
The rainbow, besides being the subject of some great American songs (Somewhere over the rainbow, I’m always chasing rainbows) has deep roots in human culture, starting with its mention in the Bible with the so-called rainbow covenant, whereby God promised Noah she’d never flood out the world again. German peasant movements in the 16th century, striving for a better world, used a rainbow banner designed by the social reformer Thomas Müntzer. The International Co-operative Alliance and various peace movements employed a rainbow flag throughout much of the 20th century. And of course, in recent times, the rainbow has become the symbol for Gay Pride, with the variant created by San Francisco artist Gilbert Baker in 1978. Such a grand legacy, and a perfect complement to our flag’s and the current Air Force One’s overly familiar red, white, and blue.
An interesting variation would be to toss in some inspirational words expressing aspirational values (or aspirational words expressing inspirational values, or words that just sound grand and hopeful, take your pick). This is risky, as words can get misinterpreted, though Peace and Justice and Respect are time-honored and familiar to most everybody. That those words in particular contradict much of the actions and policies of the current US administration is a major plus. These words could get rotated with others, depending on specific circumstances or demands of history, or whatever pop song lyrics dominate the charts at any given moment.
In a nod to Eisenhower’s Columbine, how about a floral theme, one with a kind of Driving Miss Daisy angle? Daisies traditionally symbolize joy and cheerfulness, an unusual out-of-the-box national and political message if there ever was one, and the daisy is actually a composite flower, two flowers working together, a powerful touch of symbolic meaning. The “true” daisy is the Oxeye, native to Europe and Asia – it is a flower of the world – but there are any number of North American plants with daisy-like flowers, none of them more American-sounding than black- and brown-eyed Susans. Our Presidential Susans are depicted here in – what else? – rainbow and Old Glory colors.
In a different nod, in this case to Harry Truman’s bold and imaginative bald eagle, we have an Air Force One that resembles a parrot. Parrots are noisy and colorful and distinctive and plentiful in the Western hemisphere, though mostly in tropical places, so consider this motif an attempt to show solidarity with our hemispherical neighbors to the south. Given that the USA has endlessly pursued hemispherical dominance for much of its history (see Monroe Doctrine of 1823 or Trump Doctrine/America First and to hell with everybody else of the current day), this parrot symbolizes hopes for a more respectful and co-operative future, certainly a message worthy of any imaginary Air Force One. Another interpretation could be a remembrance of a better past, when the colorful Carolina parakeet could be found from Colorado to Carolina, New York to the Gulf coast. Sadly, the last one in the wild died in 1910, and why not an Air Force One that references this in tribute, and subtly suggests we should preserve all the species that are left, avian and otherwise?
Last, we have here an homage to the country’s native heritage, in this case designs borrowed from pottery of the southwest. As we all know, this continent was home to tribal people for millennia before the Europeans showed up, and even if the country’s flag and national anthem totally ignore this fact, why not begin to correct this oversight by boldly stating their presence on the official national airplane, as it travels to all parts of the world? Hell, why not expand upon this fantasy by imagining the descendant from some native tribe, Pueblo or Navajo or whatever, getting elected to the First Office on a platform of America Uniting All Peoples or some such grand vision? This would be their plane, and a fascinating thing to behold it surely is, wouldn’t you say?
(Final outlandish footnote: just for fun, take a look at this awesome craft. A heavier-than-air flying device it most assuredly is not. Hey, it’s a Zeppelin, as if you didn’t know, loaded to the gills with bags of hydrogen, and not just any Zeppelin, but that most famous Zeppelin of all time, the “Oh, the humanity!” Hindenburg, subject to the most spectacular fiery crash of anything in all of history. Ah, but there’s something funny about the craft depicted here, for this Hindenburg packs a message, in the manner of Air Force One #2 up above. In fact it’s pretty much the same message, with the additional instruction to “fight terror,” an especially apt message in this case. For did you know that the Zeppelin was one of the first terror weapons to be widely used in warfare? They flew silently in the night over London during WWI, dropping bombs indiscriminately on civilian populations, and their greatest effect was psychological.
So what’s the wildly unlikely story here? What crazy scenario could explain this? In the speculative spirit of this blog post, how about the Hindenburg disaster being a staged fake? How maybe the Zeppelin, on its way to Lakehurst NJ on that fateful day, actually got hijacked (!) by a band of socialist-pacifist-anarchists, who floated it to their hideout on Long Island somewhere near Montauk, evicted the German crew and passengers, and flew it back to Europe bearing the message you see here, in an attempt to steer the continent away from the disastrous fate towards which it was heading. They failed, of course, came to grief on a glacier when some bags sprung a leak over Iceland. The rest is speculative history – everything here is speculative, actually – and of course none of it ever happened, such is the nature of speculation, whose only value lies in the ways it informs us about reality, when you think about it)