The Prophecy Of St Malachy

Donald Trump is the economic anti-christ

The Prophecy of St. Malachy is a divine roll call of Popes served up with a side of early medieval mysticism. In 1139, St. Malachy saunters into Rome and suddenly has a vision. It's not just any vision, mind you, but a full-blown papal preview, complete with 112 cryptic Latin one-liners in an Armagh accent, each a teaser trailer for every pope to come until the end of days.

Now, whether St. Malachy was divinely inspired or just suffered from an overactive imagination is up for debate. Pope Francis, elected in 2013, is often associated with the final phrase, "Petrus Romanus". Sure, his name isn’t Peter, and he’s not Roman, but don’t let that get in the way of a good conspiracy. The prophecy wraps up with a bang, predicting the last pope, one Petrus Romanus—Peter the Roman. This Pope’s job description reads like a disaster movie script: shepherd the Church through “great tribulations,” watch Rome get reduced to rubble, and then stick around for the ultimate performance review when the “dreadful judge” shows up to grade humanity. Needless to say, the terrible judge is probably Simon Cowell or, more likely, the Antichrist.

You see, Trump is almost certainly the Antichrist, an economic Antichrist. The only thing he has created since taking office is uncertainty. It’s infected all layers of social stratification in North America, and the Trump-induced uncertainty has started to infect other parts of the globe.

If there’s one thing the economy, economists and consumers hate, it’s uncertainty.

Ireland’s economy is about as open as a pub in Dublin’s Temple Bar on St. Patrick’s Day. We’ve been rolling out the red carpet for multinational corporations for decades. Think of Ireland as the Hollywood of FDI (Foreign Direct Investment). But uncertainty? That’s like a bad review on Rotten Tomatoes. Whether it’s global tax reforms, Brexit chaos, or geopolitical saber-rattling from Trump and Putin, uncertainty makes big Multinational companies nervous. And when they’re nervous, they don’t invest. They sit on their wallets, pausing projects, trying to reduce risk and twiddling their thumbs, waiting for the uncertain storm to pass. For Ireland, that means fewer jobs, less tax revenue, and a lot of sad faces in Irelands political, financial and Tech circles.

Ireland’s 2008 post-crash economy was built on tech and trade. A sizeable chunk of Irelands GDP now comes from both, particularly exports. We weaned ourselves from the Ponzi housing bubble. Uncertainty—like trade wars, Brexit border snafus, or shipping delays—will grind the gears of Ireland’s export machine to a halt. Suddenly, that agri-food shipment to the USA gets stuck in customs, and the tech parts headed to EMEA countries cost twice as much. It’ll be a mess, and Ireland’s economy will be the one stuck holding the baby.

Uncertainty loves to play games with currency markets. One day, the euro’s up, the next it’s down, and Irish businesses are left clutching their stomachs like they just got off a rollercoaster at Funderland. A strong euro makes Irish exports more expensive, which is bad news for everyone trying to export their goods. Conversely, a much weaker euro could increase the cost of imports, such as energy and raw materials, squeezing businesses and consumers alike. Throw in 25% Trump tariffs, and life just got far more expensive in Ireland. That cost of living package the Taoiseach recently ruled out will be back on the table.

Uncertainty is the enemy of Ireland’s open economy. It scares off investors, disrupts trade, wreaks havoc on currencies, and kills confidence. In a world that’s already plenty uncertain—thanks to geopolitical drama, economic shifts, and Trump’s policy flip-flops—Ireland needs to double down on stability. That means keeping its doors open to trade and maintaining a sane and predictable business environment.

Uncertainty is the ultimate economic buzzkill. It makes businesses nervous, so they stop investing and hiring. It makes consumers nervous, so they stop spending and start hoarding toilet roll like the prophecy of St Malachy is about to come through. And when everyone is nervous, the economy grinds to a halt. In Ireland, where domestic and global demand is a big part of the equation, a loss of confidence will be like pouring salt water and sand into an engine. It’s incredibly corrosive.

Ireland is known as a stable, business-friendly place where multinationals can set up shop, enjoy a low corporate tax rate, and maybe even catch the odd hurling match. But what about Trump injecting levels of uncertainty into the economy not seen since the 2008 crash? It scares people off. Whether it’s debates over tax policy, housing shortages, or global instability, uncertainty will chip away at Ireland’s hard-earned reputation. And once that’s gone, good luck getting it back. Trump has been chipping away at pieces of other countries’ economies. Mexico, Canada, and China and now his sights are fixed firmly on the EU.

Just 10 multinationals—all of them U.S. owned tech and pharmaceutical companies- are now footing nearly 60 percent of the country’s corporate tax bill. Directly and indirectly, U.S. multinationals employ more than 375,000 people in Ireland. Our American overlords aren’t just filling our coffers; they’re also employing a small army, almost 400,000 strong. That’s about 18 percent of the Irish workforce, all dutifully clocking in to keep the gears of Irish-American capitalism grinding on Irish soil. And thanks to this flood of U.S. investment, foreign multinationals now account for 55% of all payroll taxes paid by corporate employers. This is exactly what Trump sees and wants back in the USA when he and his advisors cast their malevolent gaze upon Ireland.

Donald Trump is not a businessman. He’s a political malevolency with a gold-plated megaphone and a knack for selling snake oil to the low-quality voters. Sure, he’s got a tower with his name on it, but so does Sauron. Trump’s economic policies are less “Art of the Deal” and more “Art of the Steal.” The world economy runs on confidence, and Trump’s fiscal recklessness is the economic equivalent of setting the money printer on fire and tossing it into a fireworks factory.

Trump’s utter disregard for economic stability is what’s telling. He tweets like an over-caffeinated Teen, sending markets into chaos with 280 characters of pure contradiction. Uncertainty is the enemy of growth, and Trump is its chaotic anti-christ mascot. The damage he’s done—to America’s credibility, to global markets, to the very idea of rational economic policy—will take years to undo. We now have an American President who thinks “default” is a negotiating tactic, “bankruptcy” is a business strategy and treating its largest trading and military partners as enemies.

Trump’s economic illiteracy and uncertainty are the enemies of Ireland’s open economy. It will scare off investors, disrupt trade, wreak havoc on currencies, and ultimately kill confidence stone dead. In a world that’s already plenty uncertain—thanks to geopolitical drama, economic shifts, and policy flip-flops—Ireland needs to double down on stability. That means keeping its doors open to trade and maintaining a predictable business environment in an ever more unpredictable world driven by an economic antichrist.