Profit from political power: Trump is doing it, why can't Ambani or Adani?
Donald Trump’s mix of profit and politics sets a precedent for billionaires like Ambani and Adani to seek direct political power in democracies worldwide
By Sanjay Dubey

After becoming President, Donald Trump chose the Middle East for his first official foreign visit. Held from May 13 to 16, the trip unfolded with considerable fanfare. While diplomacy and official business took place on one side, reports of the rapid expansion of Trump’s private business empire in the Middle East were also making headlines.
While Trump touted the U.S.'s multi-trillion-dollar agreements with Middle Eastern governments, media reports highlighted a parallel stream of ethically questionable financial deals — all, in one way or another, connected to him. These reports mentioned a $5.5 billion Trump-branded golf resort in Doha backed by the Qatari government, a $1 billion Trump hotel in Dubai, and several new real estate agreements involving Trump-affiliated companies in Saudi Arabia.
A company linked to the UAE royal family, MGX, struck a deal to purchase cryptocurrency worth 2 billion dollars just ahead of Trump’s visit. The cryptocurrency, called USD1, is issued by a company named World Liberty Financial. Donald Trump is one of the co-founders of this firm, and the largest stake in it is held by his family.
The key figures running the company include Eric Trump, Donald Trump Jr., Barron Trump, and Jack Witkoff. Witkoff is the son of Steven Witkoff, who serves as the Trump administration’s Middle East envoy. In other words, while senior Trump and Witkoff have been shaping America’s relations with the UAE, their children have been busy expanding their family businesses there.
Right after the Pahalgam terrorist attack, a Pakistani government body — the Pakistan Crypto Council — also signed a major agreement with World Liberty Financial. This agreement raises serious questions about the shift in Donald Trump’s behavior during the India-Pakistan conflict. Initially, Trump appeared largely indifferent, but later, he essentially ended up siding with Pakistan.
World Liberty Financial has rapidly emerged as one of the fastest-growing — and arguably the most controversial — cryptocurrency firms in the world. Reports suggest that not only do its investors reap profits, but so do the associates of the companies it chooses to invest in.
When it comes to Donald Trump’s business dealings, the complete picture may remain elusive. Yet, what the available evidence makes unmistakably clear is this: the American President has shown no qualms about using political power to expand his personal empire, with little regard for conflicts of interest.
Political leaders with business interests are nothing new. Italy’s Silvio Berlusconi, the Philippines’ Ferdinand Marcos, and more recently Turkey’s Recep Tayyip Erdoğan have all faced allegations of leveraging state power for personal enrichment. What sets Donald Trump apart, however, is not just the brazenness of doing this in a country like America, but his ability to recast it as entrepreneurial leadership — turning impropriety into political currency. He elevates this conduct to a different league, not merely in scale but by openly making it part of his political persona. This, from the same man who, during his first term, routinely accused Hunter Biden of profiting off the Biden family name in dealings with Ukraine and China.
Trump’s conduct while in office laid bare the inherent dangers of a direct convergence between politics and business. It creates an uneven playing field where business rivals are structurally disadvantaged, and public policy is shaped not by national interest, but by personal commercial gain. Worse, it extends beyond national borders, compelling other nations to cut big ticket business deals — not with America, but with Trump Inc.
The deeper issue here is this: if such practices can take root in America — a country that for decades positioned itself as the world’s arbiter of democratic values — what stops them from thriving elsewhere? The United States, for all its flaws, still has a culture of independent journalism, watchdog bodies, and robust legal protections for the press. Yet even there, it happened. If it can happen in Washington, it certainly can happen, in the nations where political literacy is uneven, institutions are fragile, and checks on power are weak.
In India, we have already witnessed a worrying convergence of wealth and political influence. While substantial, it remains largely indirect for now. Major business houses provide hefty donations to political parties and cultivate close ties with influential leaders. But taking inspiration from Donald Trump, the nature of this relationship could change, echoing the direct control that has occurred within India's media.
Entities like Reliance and the Adani Group have significant control over India’s current media landscape. This ownership is not merely economic—it allegedly shapes editorial lines, stifles dissenting voices, and influences public opinion in ways that favor their interests. What started as friendships between business and media figures and the practice of paid news has, over the last decade, grown into direct ownership and editorial capture.
The next logical step may be business magnates seeking direct political power, armed with control over information, resources, and public narratives.
Why defer to a leader, when you can be one?
The question is no longer if it could happen, but what stops it—and why.
In India, we’ve often seen allegations of politicians’ children benefiting from business deals and contracts during their parents’ tenure. But consider this: Mukesh Ambani and Gautam Adani are far wealthier than Trump ever was. Their economic footprint spans critical sectors—telecom, infrastructure, ports, energy, and media. If one of them, or someone similarly positioned, chose to enter politics directly under the banner of ‘efficient leadership’ or ‘entrepreneurial governance,’ the existing political system and players might be ill-equipped to challenge them.
Would voters reject such a move? Would institutions have the moral authority to oppose, when America itself allowed a billionaire to become president twice and openly use state power for personal gain? No democracy bars anyone from aspiring to lead. What’s truly alarming is how Trump is rapidly normalising the idea that the highest public office can serve as a tool for private empire-building, that conflicts of interest need not be concealed, but displayed as marks of success, and that public morality is negotiable if you’re rich and powerful enough.
The convergence of big money, media control, and political power has the potential to fundamentally reshape democracies. This threat can be far more insidious than overt coups or authoritarianism. It thrives in legal grey zones, exploits institutional weaknesses, and, most dangerously, gains public approval through nationalist rhetoric and the normalisation of impropriety.
The Trump model is not merely an American aberration. It represents a prototype for a new, global form of oligarchic democracy — one where billionaires no longer need to whisper in politicians’ ears, but can simply assume power themselves to advance their interests.