
Earlier this week, U.S. President Donald Trump launched a blistering attack on Elon Musk, accusing the billionaire entrepreneur of thriving on government subsidies and implying that, without them, Musk might have to “head back home to South Africa.” It was classic Trump: part policy, part personal, and all drama. Now firmly back in the White House, Trump appears to have lost patience with the man he once praised as the crown jewel of American innovation. He now sees through Musk—and discovers, perhaps with theatrical surprise, that the man behind the rockets and electric cars is not American-born at all, but South African. The love between billionaires, it seems, has cooled.
But behind the social media fireworks lies something far more serious: a cautionary tale about getting too close to power. It’s a lesson that many in the West might overlook, but one that has echoed across centuries in Indian political thought. There, kings were advised to be wary of ambitious advisers, and wise thinkers warned that rulers often discard those they once elevated, especially when public opinion or personal pride is at stake.
Musk may not know the name Vidura—a sage from the Indian epic Mahabharata—but he is walking into the very warning Vidura gave: proximity to power can be dangerous, especially when the ruler is unpredictable.
Not long ago, Trump and Musk seemed to share a mutual admiration. Musk backed Trump’s views on free speech and deregulation; Trump praised Musk’s vision and celebrated SpaceX’s achievements as American triumphs. It was a temporary alliance, built on shared convenience more than ideology.
But things changed quickly. Musk began expressing doubts about Trump-era economic policies. He flirted with the idea of supporting independent candidates. And most recently, he questioned electric vehicle (EV) mandates, even while benefitting from the incentives they offered. That, for Trump, was enough. What had once been a useful friendship now appeared to him as a liability. And Trump responded in his usual style: not with nuance, but with a public broadside.
The resulting statement didn’t just attack Musk. It dismissed the entire idea of government support for EVs, hinted that American taxpayers were being cheated, and took a personal jab at Musk’s nationality—despite his U.S. citizenship and enormous contribution to American innovation. The implication was clear: loyalty, not merit, determines who is welcome near the throne.
Why does this matter beyond the personalities involved?
Because when billionaire feuds become public policy, the consequences aren’t confined to Twitter. Federal tax credits for EVs, public contracts for space launches, and regulatory green lights for self-driving technology are not just about Elon Musk. They shape the future of energy, mobility, and national security.
And now, these policies are being redefined not by strategic planning, but by who stands where in a power struggle. Musk’s reluctance to rally behind Trump’s presidency has made him an easy symbol of elite disloyalty. The same success Trump once celebrated as proof of American greatness is now cast as taxpayer-funded excess.
In the process, real industries are caught in the crossfire. Tesla’s stock fell during earlier skirmishes. Government contracts could slow. And countries that had counted on U.S. leadership in green technology may now be left wondering whether America can stay the course.
Meanwhile, rival nations—particularly China—watch with interest. Their own industrial policies are often centralized, long-term, and relatively insulated from political drama. America, by contrast, risks making its innovation landscape hostage to ego and election cycles.
India’s classical thinkers had a word for this: they called it “Rajadharma”—the ethical duty of rulers to act in the interest of the state, not their personal feelings. Chanakya, a philosopher and adviser who helped found one of India’s earliest empires, wrote that rulers should be careful with both flattery and retaliation. To run a kingdom, he argued, you need systems—not whims.
One of his core insights? Those who rise too quickly on royal favour often fall just as fast when that favour fades.
In simpler terms: if your success depends on staying in the king’s good books, prepare for the day you’re no longer welcome at court.
Musk, like many innovators, may believe he’s above politics—that technology speaks for itself. But in today’s world, where public subsidies and private enterprise are deeply intertwined, no major player can afford to ignore the mood of the palace. Especially when that palace is controlled by someone as reactive—and media-savvy—as Trump.
Lost in this spectacle is the real impact on people.
Federal EV subsidies aren’t just about helping rich people buy Teslas. They support battery plants, supply chains, and thousands of middle-class jobs across America’s Midwest. They accelerate the move away from fossil fuels. They help cities modernize their transport systems and give consumers more affordable energy options.
Undermining all that because of a personal quarrel risks real damage—not just to Musk’s empire, but to broader climate goals and energy independence.
The same goes for the space sector. If government contracts for launches and satellite networks are suddenly seen as “gifts to Elon,” programs like Starlink or NASA collaborations could face delays or public backlash. And with them, the scientific and security benefits they bring.
Elon Musk won’t be the last entrepreneur to get close to power. Nor the last to be punished for it. But his story is a warning to innovators everywhere: tie your future too closely to politics, and you risk becoming the scapegoat in the next power struggle.
Across many cultures, including mine, there’s an old truth: ambition and authority should never sleep in the same bed. Respect power, yes. But don’t build your house on its doorstep.
Because kings change. Elections end. Tweets fade. But the damage these feuds do to policy and progress may take decades to repair.
Beware when you stand too close to fire.
That, perhaps, is the message Elon Musk is now beginning to understand.
The rest of us—workers, investors, voters—should take note too. Because when public policy becomes personal theatre, the spotlight may entertain, but the fallout lands on everyone else.