Special to WorldTribune, August 11, 2026
Commentary by Eric Trump
The following is an excerpt from ‘Under Siege: My Family’s Fight to Save Our Nation’, which invites but does not answer the question: Were these banks’ shocking actions against a former president coordinated and if so, by whom?
After the sudden silence of the “loss” on November 3, 2020, things got a lot noisier. In January 2021, the knives were out for all things Trump.
I became a target for the corporate cancel culture movement. Letter after letter, from dozens of institutions including Chase, First Republic, Capital One, Goldman Sachs, UBS, Signature Bank, Investors Savings Bank, Cushman & Wakefield, Aon Insurance, Professional Bank, Shopify, Barclays, and the list goes on.
One Trump-deranged bank’s letter bore the headline “IMPORTANT: Closing our banking relationship,” and gave us mere weeks to dissolve all corporate accounts.
I will never forget the notice from First Republic Bank. Sorry, we’re canceling all your accounts. Except this time the CEO was a neighbor of mine. When my team brought me the letter, I said, “You gotta be kidding me! I’ll call the CEO right now, he’s a friend. Bet he doesn’t even know, and this is coming from some woke staffer.”
The CEO — my direct neighbor — a man who literally shared a wall with Lara and me in New York City. Like so many others during this time, he was a total disappointment.
When I called him, he acted like a stranger, as if we’d never met. Then he told me it was out of his control. “Out of your control?!” I responded. “You are the chairman of the bank. For what reason? We have been a perfect client.”
Ironically, First Republic collapsed on May 1, 2023, just two years later, seized by California regulators and placed into FDIC receivership, marking one of the largest bank failures in U.S. history. While I never wish harm on anyone — especially their many employees — the irony is striking. The very bank that canceled us, closed our accounts, and shunned loyal customers and friends collapsed in total failure. Given what they tried to do to us, I can’t say I was disappointed.
This was one of the few times being canceled was a blessing, sparing me headaches and potential financial loss because of their downfall. As they say, karma’s never in a hurry, but when it arrives, it’s worth the wait.
The most devastating surprise came from Capital One, after being a client for nearly twenty years. “Eric, I just received notice via overnight mail terminating all our bank accounts, effective March 21, 2021.” The opening of the three-sentence letter read “Your account has been closed,” and ended with this line: “If you have any questions, please get in touch.”
I had questions. Why? We had over 300 distinct accounts there, each connected to hundreds, possibly thousands, of tenant payments, employees, contractors, utilities — and loans. These were not political accounts, they were commercial buildings, golf properties, condo associations, restaurants, retail businesses, shopping centers, and more. How do you pay your employees, vendors, utilities, and real estate taxes? How about collecting rent, membership dues, common area maintenance, and revenue from hotels? To make matters more complicated, most of these accounts were on auto pay — tenants who had been with us for years would have to be notified, wires changed, and ACH forms modified.
Last but not least, these very accounts were subject to loan documents and lockbox loan provisions; the cancellation would be grounds for loan defaults. Our business was like a train without tracks — going nowhere. They were trying to rip those tracks out, and fast. I called all the big banks personally. For the first time in my life, their responses were slow, their tone cold and distant — completely different from just months before.
For decades, banks had clamored for our business. Now, loyalty was nowhere to be found.
The same siege came from some insurance carriers and other financial partners. Moreover, we lost our e-commerce platforms. Shopify sent a notice effectively saying, we’re closing your accounts.
When I decided to sell the Old Post Office (Trump International Hotel, Washington, D.C.), I was shocked — Cushman & Wakefield, CBRE, et al., denied the engagement. They, as part of the establishment and the Left, wanted to see us fail. Humiliated. They wanted headlines. Bankrupt and gone. And behind these stories is another story of regulators breathing down the necks of banks and insurance companies, whispering, “I see you’re doing business with Trump. We’re watching.”
More than one CEO of large financial institutions caved to that corruption. That didn’t make them innocent, it made them complicit.
I heard this heartbreaking story from hundreds of Americans: “My bank suddenly refuses to finance me — and won’t even give me a reason.”
But when they dug deeper, the truth was clear. It wasn’t about money or risk. It was about politics, religion, their support for the Second Amendment, or simply a social media photo of them wearing a red MAGA hat. This was not just business — it was targeted punishment.
There was a domino effect. They abandoned me — but more importantly, they left our employees, tenants, and patrons in the dark. Their goal was clear: they wanted us to close up shop. Not only did our phones stop ringing, but our calls went unanswered. It echoed the isolation my father faced back in the early nineties. I wasn’t fighting for a paycheck — I was fighting for our team, for my family, and for everything three generations of Trumps had built. The careers of thousands depended on me.
Sleepless nights blurred into long days spent away from my family, locked in the office. Like during COVID, my role shifted — from CEO to psychologist and crisis manager. I offered constant reassurance that we’d be okay, cracked jokes on the darkest days when all you wanted was to crawl under your desk. That intentional positivity — rooted in unwavering faith that justice would prevail — became the lifeblood that kept the entire organization moving forward.
The hits built warriors. Our team became hardened and resilient beyond words. They knew the siege was bullshit. They were offended that their hard work was being sabotaged by hateful forces. I was fighting for them, and they were fighting for me. Our company has always been an extension of our family and we have the greatest team in the world.
Actions have consequences. When my father and our family lost our freedom of speech, we built Truth Social. When we lost our banking, we quickly became a leader in cryptocurrency. Banks should be in the business of investing, saving, and lending — not policing thought.
Vernon Hill, founder of Commerce Bank, understood that. I’ll always owe him a debt of gratitude. Thank you, my friend. I’ll never forget you stepping forward when others stepped away. It’s actually cathartic. The good people you discover during the toughest times — you know they’ll stand by you long after the storm passes.
And there’s a strange, almost surreal feeling when those who canceled you suddenly call back. “Hi, Eric. It’s been a long time. We’d really like to rebuild the relationship and become great partners again with your incredible organization.” F— you.
At the time, and neck-deep in the chaos, I could not have imagined that, four years later, my father would address the World Economic Forum in Davos as president, look those de-bankers in the eye, and say, “I hope you start opening your bank to conservatives because many conservatives complain that the banks are not allowing them to do business within the bank and that included a place called Bank of America. [… ] They don’t take conservative business and I don’t know if the regulators mandated that because of Biden or what but you and Jamie [Dimon] and everybody… I hope you open your banks to conservatives because what you’re doing is wrong.”
Faces went blank and jaws dropped. Exposed on the world stage. Some claim “de-banking” — when financial institutions yank your accounts without warning or explanation — is just a myth. I can assure you it’s very real.
On March 7, 2025, I sued Capital One to prove it. Today, the Trump Organization filed a lawsuit in Miami-Dade County against @CapitalOne to hold the bank accountable for their egregious conduct in unjustifiably terminating over 300 of the company’s bank accounts without cause, in 2021.
The decision by Capital One to “debank” our company, after well over a decade, was a clear attack on free speech and free enterprise that flies in the face of the bedrock principles and freedoms that define our country. Moreover, the arbitrary closure of these accounts, without justifiable cause, reflects a broader effort to silence and undermine the success of the Trump Organization and those who dare to express their political views.
By filing this lawsuit, we seek to hold Capital One accountable for the millions of dollars in damages they caused, not just to our company, but to the many dozens of properties, hundreds of tenants and thousands of Trump Organization employees who relied on these accounts for their livelihoods. Businesses should not be targeted or punished for their political affiliations.
The actions taken by Capital One and other major financial institutions represents a dangerous precedent that could threaten the operations of countless businesses across the nation, particularly those with a strong and independent voice.
Eric Trump on what it was like to be ‘de-banked’ in 2021 by these trusted companies added by Editor One on
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