President Trump’s latest salvo against Rosie O’Donnell has reignited a feud that’s been simmering for nearly two decades. His Wednesday announcement on Truth Social, mulling the revocation of her U.S. citizenship, sent shockwaves through an already polarized public. But let’s be clear: this is a constitutional nonstarter.
Trump’s threats to strip O’Donnell’s citizenship, first floated in July and doubled down on this week, stem from a personal grudge that’s as old as MySpace. The 14th Amendment, which grants ironclad citizenship to anyone born in the U.S.—like O’Donnell, a New York native—makes this a legal fantasy. Still, the president’s rhetoric keeps the spotlight on their clash.
Their bad blood began in 2006 when O’Donnell, on “The View,” slammed Trump for going easy on a scandal-plagued Miss USA winner. Trump didn’t take kindly to the critique, and by 2015, he was firing back, singling her out during a Republican primary debate with a quip: “Only Rosie O’Donnell.” That jab cemented their feud as a cultural lightning rod.
Fast forward to July 2025, when Trump called O’Donnell a “Threat to Humanity” unfit for citizenship. O’Donnell, never one to shy from a fight, shot back on social media, dubbing him “King Joffrey with a tangerine spray tan.” Her defiance only fueled Trump’s resolve to keep the feud alive.
By March 2025, O’Donnell had already packed her bags for Ireland, citing America’s political climate as her reason for seeking dual citizenship. During a White House visit that month, Trump couldn’t resist a dig, telling the Irish prime minister, “You’re better off not knowing O’Donnell. The comment was petty, but it kept the story simmering.
O’Donnell’s move to Ireland, alongside her daughter, followed Trump’s electoral victory, a clear signal she felt unwelcome in the U.S. Her pursuit of Irish citizenship, leveraging her grandparents’ heritage, is a practical step—but also a symbolic middle finger to Trump’s rhetoric. The president’s fixation on her status only amplifies her point.
In August 2025, O’Donnell stumbled into hotter water with a video claiming a Minneapolis school shooter was a “MAGA person” and “White supremacist.” The tragedy, which claimed two young lives and injured over a dozen, deserved better than her rushed assumptions. She later deleted the post, but the damage was done.
O’Donnell’s apology came swiftly, admitting she “messed up” by not verifying her claims. “I assumed, like most shooters, they followed a standard MO,” she said, acknowledging her error in painting the shooter as an NRA-loving Republican. Her mea culpa was candid, but critics argue it was too little, too late.
Trump seized on the video to justify his citizenship threats, labeling O’Donnell a danger to the nation’s unity. His Truth Social post on September 3 declared she’s “incapable” of being a “Great American.” The hyperbole is vintage Trump, but it sidesteps the real issue: free speech, even when it’s reckless, isn’t a deportable offense.
The 14th Amendment stands as an immovable barrier to Trump’s threats against O’Donnell. Born in Commack, New York, she’s as American as apple pie, whether the president likes it or not. His rhetoric may rally his base, but it’s legally toothless.
O’Donnell’s critics, though, see her actions as more than just provocative—they’re divisive. Her video’s baseless claims about the shooter fed into a narrative that paints conservatives as villains, a tired trope of the progressive playbook. Yet stripping her citizenship isn’t the answer; it’s a distraction from addressing real ideological divides.
Trump’s focus on O’Donnell feels personal, not policy-driven. His base cheers the tough talk, but it risks alienating moderates who see this as a vendetta, not leadership. The feud plays like a reality show, not a serious debate about national interest.
O’Donnell’s move to Ireland underscores a deeper rift in America’s cultural fabric. Her TikTok vow to return only when “all citizens have equal rights” signals a belief that the U.S. is failing its ideals. It’s a sentiment that resonates with some, but others see it as an elitist dodge of accountability.
Trump’s rhetoric, meanwhile, fuels accusations of authoritarian overreach. Threatening citizenship, even rhetorically, sets a dangerous precedent in a nation built on constitutional protections. It’s the kind of bluster that excites rallies but erodes trust in governance.
This feud, at its core, is a microcosm of America’s polarized soul. Trump and O’Donnell aren’t just sparring over personal slights—they’re proxies for a larger battle over free speech, loyalty, and what it means to be American. Both sides could stand to dial it back and focus on healing, not headlines.
