The instant a president dies, the legal path is clear even if the country’s emotions are not. Power passes immediately to the vice president, who is sworn in as president as soon as possible to signal continuity at home and abroad. Inside the White House, staff scramble to shift loyalty, secure communications, and brief the new commander-in-chief, while the world’s governments watch for any sign of instability.
Yet the ceremony of transition would unfold against a bitterly divided backdrop. A state funeral, planned with military precision and heavy symbolism, would not unite Americans the way it once did. Some would grieve deeply; others might feel relief or even defiance. Protests, counter‑protests, and nonstop media coverage would turn a moment of mourning into a referendum on an entire era. The system would hold. The country’s emotional fault lines would be laid bare.