What presidential gifts really say: Trump’s Scottish census and the art of political gifting

Trump’s Scottish census and the art of political gifting

When US President Donald Trump arrived in Scotland this week, his first official gift was deeply personal: a 1921 census record from the Isle of Lewis, documenting details of his Scottish-born mother, Mary Anne MacLeod, then just nine years old. Scotland’s first minister, John Swinney, also offered Trump a marriage registration record from 1853 for his maternal great-grandparents, along with a historical map of the island—where Mary Anne grew up before emigrating to the US.

In return, Trump presented Swinney with a bald-eagle figurine—more symbolic than sentimental. The exchange, though polite, highlighted the sometimes mismatched nature of diplomatic gift-giving, where personal, historic, or culturally resonant offerings are occasionally met with less nuanced souvenirs, the New York Times reported.

Uneven exchanges and past headlines

Disparities in diplomatic gifts are not new. In 2009, British Prime Minister Gordon Brown brought then-President Barack Obama a pen holder crafted from an antislavery ship and a rare Churchill biography. Obama, in turn, gave Brown a set of DVDs—unplayable in Britain due to format restrictions. The moment became a talking point in UK media and set a modern precedent for awkward gift exchanges between allies.

Ancestry-themed diplomacy

Gifts tracing presidential ancestry have become a popular strategy to build goodwill. In June, Germany’s Chancellor Friedrich Merz gave Trump a framed copy of his grandfather’s 1869 birth record from Kallstadt. In 2023, British PM Rishi Sunak handed President Biden a book authored by his British great-great-grandfather, while Ireland’s then-prime minister Simon Harris took a more direct route, offering Biden Irish harp cuff links and a letter from JFK. Such presents acknowledge heritage while signalling cultural respect.

Gifts that evoke history and symbolism

Churchill remains a favourite touchstone in transatlantic diplomacy. In 2019, UK Prime Minister Theresa May gifted Trump a framed draft of the 1941 Atlantic Charter, a historic joint statement between Churchill and Franklin D. Roosevelt. That same year, Queen Elizabeth II presented Trump with a first edition of one of Churchill’s WWII histories. She also guided him through a Buckingham Palace exhibition featuring an American artwork he had previously gifted—one he reportedly failed to recognize until Melania Trump intervened.

When gifts go awry

Not every symbolic gesture takes root—literally. In 2018, French President Emmanuel Macron brought Trump an oak sapling from a WWI battlefield to plant at the White House. The tree, however, failed to survive and had to be replaced. Such incidents underscore the fragile nature of symbolic diplomacy. Gifts not kept personally often end up in State Department archives unless purchased by presidents at their appraised value.

Practical diplomacy: when gifts have utility

Some leaders try blending function with thoughtfulness. In 2012, President Obama gave UK Prime Minister David Cameron a custom barbecue grill etched with US and UK flags—after a ping-pong table exchange the year before. At a 2021 G7 summit, President Biden gifted cycling enthusiast Boris Johnson a hand-built American bike. These gifts, while less historical, were tailored to personal interests.

Ultimately, while some gifts celebrate shared values and ancestry, others risk becoming footnotes—or punchlines. Trump’s census gift was rich with symbolism, but the bald-eagle figurine might not be one for the museum shelves. As history shows, the best diplomatic gifts are often the most personal—and the most memorable.