In the spring of 2025, Washington's official corridors of power witnessed a visually striking and unexpected transformation. Two towering banners unfurled above Independence Avenue on the western face of the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s headquarters. One depicted Abraham Lincoln, the founder of the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) and patron saint of the American yeoman ideal. The other, of Donald Trump, who is currently in the midst of his second presidency, now gazed out from one of the most symbolically potent buildings in the federal government. The banners featured the USDA seal, the national motto, and the slogan “Growing America Since 1862.” However, the juxtaposition of Lincoln and Trump was more than jarring to many observers. Some even believed that a banner praising an incumbent President has no place on a federal building, reminiscent of authoritarian leaders with cults of personality. Others likened it to Big Brother from 1984. Most importantly, it raised more profound questions about memory, merit, and legacy.
Secretary of Agriculture Brooke Rollins hailed the display as the emblem of a new golden age for American farmers under Trump's leadership. She cited rising commodity prices, an assertive trade posture, and revival of rural pride as evidence of Trump’s transformative impact on the nation’s farms and fields. However, this official narrative quickly drew criticism from farmers’ unions, food policy scholars, and small agricultural producers. Many pointed out that throughout the Trump years, numerous rural communities experienced greater economic precarity, shrinking safety nets, and punishing consequences from erratic trade wars. Trump’s tenure had been marked by large-scale bailout programs intended to mitigate the effects of retaliatory tariffs, particularly from China. While these payments were substantial in volume, they disproportionately benefited the largest agribusinesses, with a significant share flowing to multinational producers and firms rather than independent family farmers. The short-term relief came at the cost of long-term market relationships, the lifeblood of rural stability.
However, the deeper issue was not the debate over economic indicators or price supports. It was the symbolism. For many, the USDA building represents the institutional heart of American agriculture and the nation’s enduring promises to those who live from the land. To place Trump’s image beside that of Lincoln was, in the eyes of critics, to equate personal brand-building with public service, and to suggest that the volatile improvisations of the trade war years stood on par with the foundational reforms of the Homestead Act and the Land-Grant College system. The banner sparked immediate comparisons to Orwellian imagery, the aesthetics of state propaganda, and the cult of personality rather than the cultivation of food. In stark contrast, Biden's focus on sustainability and equity in his agricultural policies reassures us about the future of American agriculture.
Yet, the true contrast was not simply between Trump and Lincoln. It was between Trump and those public figures in modern times whose careers were genuinely and consistently rooted in the slow, unglamorous work of building a fairer and more sustainable food system. In this light, the names of Joe Biden, Barack Obama, Tom Vilsack, and Tom Harkin emerged in conversation. Each had shaped agricultural policy to prioritize environmental stewardship, equitable access, and long-term rural resilience. But it was Harkin whose contributions ran deepest, whose vision had most clearly anticipated the present needs, and whose legacy now called out for recognition. It is crucial to shift our focus to these true agricultural leaders, whose work has a lasting impact on the industry. However, it is best to compare Trump first to his contemporaries in the White House.
Joe Biden’s presidency has been marked by a clear and deliberate focus on revitalizing American agriculture in ways that combine economic opportunity with environmental responsibility. His administration expanded access to global markets, securing more than twenty-six billion dollars in new agricultural trade agreements. At the same time, it launched the most ambitious investment in climate-smart agriculture in American history, enrolling more than 3.2 million acres into programs designed to sequester carbon, reduce runoff, and build climate resilience. Biden’s USDA also confronted generations of discrimination by investing in underserved producers, restoring funding for land access, and creating the Equity Commission to assess systemic biases in agency operations. These transformative policies give us hope for the future of American agriculture.
Barack Obama, in turn, left his mark through the 2014 Farm Bill, which recalibrated risk management, ended outdated subsidy models, and provided new tools for conservation and nutrition. Under his administration, agricultural exports soared past the trillion-dollar mark, aided by a diplomatic strategy emphasizing multilateral engagement and fair access to global markets. Obama’s tenure also saw the expansion of biofuels and rural energy initiatives, helping thousands of producers invest in energy efficiency and renewable sources. His approach to agriculture was part of a broader ethos of public investment, rooted in the belief that rural communities deserve more than economic trickle-down. They deserve targeted, smart policy that reflects their role in feeding and powering the nation.
Yet it was Tom Harkin whose lifelong service to agricultural communities set the gold standard. Over decades of work in the Senate, Harkin shaped every major farm bill from the 1980s to the early 2010s. He was the architect of the Conservation Security Program, a visionary model that paid farmers not for producing more but for stewarding the land. This program eventually became the Conservation Stewardship Program, now the country's most significant working lands conservation effort. Under Harkin’s guidance, it enrolled more than sixty million acres, rewarding practices that build soil health, protect water, and support biodiversity. He championed rural energy long before it became fashionable, writing the first-ever energy title in a farm bill. Through this, thousands of farms received support to transition toward renewables, reducing their costs and dependence on fossil fuels.
Even beyond policy, Harkin understood agriculture as a social compact. He defended the rights of independent producers against the power of agribusiness monopolies. He fought to bring fresh fruits and vegetables into public schools, connecting nutrition to dignity. He pushed to expand rural broadband and to fund rural development programs that kept towns alive in the face of demographic decline. And through it all, he treated farmers not as rhetorical props but as constituents with a right to a sustainable livelihood. In 2025, the National Farmers Union awarded Harkin its highest honor, citing his unparalleled contributions to the life and land of rural America.
If not Harkin, it should be Tom Vilsack, who has served longer as Secretary of Agriculture than anyone since the post was created, and also stands as a far more deserving figure to be honored above the USDA. Appointed first under Barack Obama and later brought back by Joe Biden, Vilsack has overseen some of the most complex transformations in modern American farm policy. He guided the USDA through the Great Recession and then the COVID-19 pandemic, helping to stabilize supply chains and ensure food access during national emergencies. Under his leadership, the department implemented sweeping efforts to combat climate change, expand nutrition assistance, and rebuild trust with historically marginalized farmers. Vilsack spearheaded programs that elevated rural economies through renewable energy investments, promoted local food systems, and championed science-based conservation initiatives. He has spent a career trying to reconcile the twin goals of productivity and sustainability, insisting that agricultural prosperity must be shared across all communities. Vilsack’s approach has never been about spectacle. It has been about public service, institutional reform, and integrity. His steady, lifelong commitment to the USDA’s mission of serving “the people’s department” makes the notion of a Trump banner misleading and profoundly disrespectful to the agency’s real builders.
In this light, when stripped of its self-congratulatory gloss, Trump's agricultural record reveals a presidency more defined by disruption than delivery. His tenure brought no major farm bill and no enduring institutional reform. His trade wars fractured export markets that farmers had spent decades cultivating. The bailout funds that followed served as political triage rather than economic strategy. These payments overwhelmingly benefited the most significant corporate operations, leaving smaller farms to navigate uncertainty without consistent support. Programs that could have strengthened rural infrastructure, conservation, or climate resilience were neglected in favor of headline-grabbing moves that prioritized loyalty over results. Even the USDA was weakened under his watch, with career scientists leaving en masse after the agency was relocated and demoralized. While Biden, Obama, and Harkin invested in long-term systems that protect land, food security, and rural opportunity, Trump treated agriculture as a battlefield in his brand war. His policy's absence of vision, coherence, and equity makes his placement alongside Lincoln prematurely and fundamentally dishonest.
It is therefore both ironic and revealing that this year, Trump’s image looms largest over the USDA building. If one is to judge by the length of service, the quality of vision, and the enduring impact on the land and its people, no modern figure is more deserving of such recognition than Tom Harkin or Tom Vilsack. Where others brought disruption, they brought stability. Where others performed strength, they practiced care. Their work stitched together the principles of environmental stewardship, food equity, and economic justice into a framework that continues to guide agricultural policy today.
To place their likeness above the building that has long served as the institutional soul of American agriculture would not be a partisan act. It would be an act of memory, of gratitude, and truth. It would remind future generations that the work of feeding a nation is not about branding or banners. It is about soil, seasons, people, and policy. It is about those who understand that the roots of democracy run deepest in the land.
Add comment
Comments