There’s no question that the American political system is in desperate need of diversification.

A democracy offering only two parties is, by definition, limited—and in fact not too far from a political system that offers only one party. It’s increasingly out of touch with the wide range of voices it claims to represent.

So while the idea of a new party is certainly welcome, Elon Musk’s latest move to found the so-called “America Party” might just be a step too far—not for America, but for him.

To begin with, Musk cannot run for president. He wasn’t born in the United States, and the Constitution is clear on that point. So what, exactly, is the purpose of this political venture, if he cannot offer any alternative—better or not—to Trump?

Musk thrives on the myth of being a visionary entrepreneur. And in many ways, he is a genius—not necessarily in inventing things, but in adopting platforms, rebranding them as his own, and raising legendary amounts of capital through sheer charisma and image. But scratch the surface, and the facts reveal a far more nuanced reality.

He didn’t found Tesla. That honor belongs to Martin Eberhard and Marc Tarpenning. Nor has he managed to keep Tesla ahead of its fiercest competitor: China’s electric vehicle industry, which now produces cars that are significantly more advanced, far more luxurious and comfortable, and considerably more affordable. The global EV crown has already shifted eastward—and the only markets where Tesla remains relevant are those where regulators still prevent citizens from accessing better and more affordable Chinese electric vehicles.

SpaceX was his idea—but the man behind its technological backbone is Tom Mueller, the propulsion expert Musk successfully hired. Despite massive investments and global buzz, the company has yet to deliver on its biggest promises: landing humans on Mars and making space tourism a reality. The hope is still alive, and perhaps the dream will come true one day—whether through Musk’s SpaceX or one of its rising rivals. Time will tell.

He didn’t create PayPal, either. The real roots lie with Confinity, founded in 1998 by Max Levchin, Peter Thiel, Luke Nosek, and a few others. Musk’s company, X.com (founded in 1999), merged with Confinity in 2000. Later that year, Musk was removed as CEO, and it was only under Thiel and Levchin’s leadership that PayPal became the global success it’s known as today.

We can go on to mention companies like OpenAI, co-founded by Elon Musk, Sam Altman, Ilya Sutskever, Greg Brockman, and others in 2015—but which only became a serious and successful player after Musk left the board in 2018. Or SolarCity, founded in 2006 by Musk’s cousins, Lyndon and Peter Rive—a company Tesla later bailed out to protect Musk’s investment, using Tesla shareholders’ money.

Then there’s Neuralink, which Musk helped form alongside a group of neuroscientists in 2016. The vision is unquestionably bold and alive, and its potential remains positive. But whether Neuralink will lead the field—or be overtaken by one of its emerging rivals—is still too early to say.

And better not to mention Hyperloop (under The Boring Company, founded by Musk in 2016), a heavily overhyped and underdelivered "revolution" in transport that promised 1,000 km/h pods in vacuum tubes. Years later, there’s still no functional hyperloop—only a narrow underground tunnel in Las Vegas where Teslas drive slowly in single file.

What Musk has done remarkably well is Starlink—SpaceX’s global satellite internet venture, which has the potential to become the largest mobile and internet service provider in the world (outside of China and India). And of course, there’s his transformation of Twitter into X—arguably the most influential media platform on the planet. For now. That achievement deserves recognition—and applause. In fact, the world owes him credit for breaking the monopoly of manipulative media cartels and re-democratizing online discourse, despite the brainwashed “intellectuals” who label every uncomfortable truth published on X as “extreme” or “fake news”—when in reality, they are simply victims of the very propaganda they defend.

But the illusion of power can be as fleeting as it is intoxicating.

Much of Musk’s perceived wealth is built on paper—American paper—and tied to volatile stock valuations, government subsidies, regulatory conditions, and investor sentiment. He enjoys the image of being the richest man in the world, but he’s not—not even close. Real wealth doesn’t live on Forbes lists or Google rankings. Many families and individuals with vastly more tangible, stable, and not-so-volatile assets live quietly outside the spotlight—wealthy in reality, not just on paper. The Forbes list is merely a reflection of the stock market bubble—valid only until reality wakes up and the Ponzi scheme makes its run.

Musk’s fortune depends heavily on the very governments he’s now declaring political war against.

If the U.S. or Europe ever drop their aggressive protectionist policies and allow full access to Chinese EVs, Tesla could collapse overnight.

If regulators ever decide to treat X not as a tech platform but as what it truly is—a publisher—it will lose its protections, its influence, and its platform for relatively free speech. It would become just another Facebook: functional, but no longer relevant.

The uncomfortable truth? The distance between “world’s richest man” and “bankrupt” might be shorter than the average American’s path from homelessness to their first million. And that road now runs straight through the heart of the political system—the very system Musk has now essentially declared war against.

And unlike the conveniently vague funding behind X, Musk may soon discover that when it comes to trying to control—not just influence—American politics, the curiosity of U.S. investigative agencies—especially under the watchful eyes of the highly talented and fiercely patriotic Pam Bondi, Kash Patel, and their motivated team—becomes far more effective, and far less naïve or compromised, than in past cases where top American power was bought through foreign influence operations—such as the tolerated use of Hunter Biden as a proxy bribe facilitator to purchase control of the vice presidency, and eventually, the presidency of the United States. 

The real sources of Musk’s funding may soon face a level of sunlight that tech giants have long managed to avoid. Washington may tolerate opaque investors from China, Saudi Arabia, or Qatar backing a media company—but it will not allow them to quietly buy control of the U.S. political system. Let the wise take the hint.

So the bottom line is:

Yes, a new party is absolutely needed—and it would be great for American democracy.
But it might be dangerously self-destructive for Elon Musk.

I hope he succeeds.
Not just because I personally love this chap and admire his extraordinary talents,
and not because I happen to believe—against most of my friends’ opinions—
that Trump, not despite but because of his craziness, and especially thanks to his talented and fiercely motivated administration, was the best thing to happen to America.

But because I’m thinking about what comes next.

Indeed, after Biden and Harris’s American-dream-suicide agenda—with crazy, fanatic, and outright lunatic policies like allowing transgender men to cannibalize women’s sports rights, defunding the police, legalizing shoplifting, dismantling border control through unchecked immigration, eroding the integrity of the voting system, enabling billions of dollars in theft through a fake and unaccountable foreign aid system, and launching political witch hunts against opponents by corrupting the justice system and transforming both social and mainstream media into an Orwellian, single, orchestrated, and manipulative voice—Trump’s boldness, madness, and not-so-democratic ways, however chaotic they may have seemed, were exactly what America urgently needed. His election saved America.

But what comes the day after Trump?

So yes, I hope Musk succeeds.
But I’m sure—unfortunately—that he won’t.

Because politics, like any other organized criminal cartel, never gives up its controlled territory without a relentless fight.
And anyone who dares to cross the line from supporter to front-runner, wielding real political power,
instantly becomes a target—
for all the brutal, unrestrained, and absolutely corrupting power of limitless and unaudited tools of coercion, surveillance, and vengeance the so-called “legal” system can—and absolutely will—unleash.

Elon would be wiser to remain our beloved entrepreneur (and ideally find a way to make peace with Trump),
rather than risk losing his place as one of the world’s most valuable, eccentric, and idea-rich facilitators
for building a better world—not just a better America.