In the early days of his second presidency, Donald Trump has once again floated the idea of serving beyond his constitutional limit. Despite the clear language of the 22nd Amendment, which states that “No person shall be elected to the office of the President more than twice,” Trump and his allies, including former strategist Steve Bannon, have hinted at strategies to extend his time in the White House through 2028 and potentially beyond. Bannon, in a recent interview with The Economist on October 23, 2025, boldly declared, “Trump is going to be president in ’28,” adding that “there is a plan” to make it happen, though details would come “at the appropriate time.” This rhetoric echoes Trump’s first term but feels more pointed now, with Bannon teasing “many different alternatives” for keeping Trump in power.
While some dismiss these comments as political theater—meant to rally supporters or dodge lame-duck perceptions—the global history of leaders bending term limits suggests we shouldn’t ignore the threat. A 2020 study by legal scholars Tim Horley and Mila Versteeg examined presidential term limits worldwide since 2000 and found that about one-third of leaders who hit their term caps tried to stay on. Shockingly, 67% succeeded, even in some established democracies like Costa Rica and South Korea. If Trump pursues this path, he’d be joining a long line of ambitious executives who have rewritten, reinterpreted, or simply ignored their nations’ rules. But in the U.S., with its rigid Constitution, success would demand creativity, political muscle, and perhaps a bit of chaos. Below, we explore the most viable strategies, drawing from international examples and tailored to America’s unique system.
The Global Playbook: Five Ways Leaders Have Dodged Term Limits
Horley and Versteeg’s research identified five main tactics used by presidents to extend their rule, often blending legal maneuvering with raw power plays. These methods have succeeded at varying rates, but they all exploit weaknesses in democratic guardrails. Here’s how they work—and how they might apply to Trump.
1. Amend the Constitution (The Straightforward but Tough Path)
The most common approach—used in 63% of attempts—involves changing the constitution to scrap or loosen term limits. This has worked in places like Nicaragua, where President Daniel Ortega pushed through amendments in 2022 to run indefinitely, and in Burkina Faso, where leaders have repeatedly tweaked rules to suit themselves.
Success rate: 60%. Why it half-works: Amendments need broad support, like supermajorities in legislatures or public votes, giving opponents time to fight back through protests or lawsuits.
For Trump: This would require rallying two-thirds of Congress and three-fourths of states—a Herculean task in a polarized America. With Republicans controlling Congress after the 2024 elections, he might build momentum, but Democratic opposition and public backlash could doom it. Horley and Versteeg call it “unlikely” in the U.S. due to the Constitution’s high bar, set deliberately after Franklin D. Roosevelt’s four terms prompted the 22nd Amendment in 1951.
2. The “Blank Slate” Reset (A Clean Wipe for a Fresh Start)
Less frequent at 8% but foolproof so far (100% success), this tactic involves passing a new constitution or amendment that erases prior terms, treating the leader’s clock as newly wound. Russia’s Vladimir Putin pulled this off masterfully in 2020, when voters approved changes that zeroed out his previous presidencies, letting him potentially rule until 2036.
For Trump: Imagine a constitutional convention or targeted amendment declaring his non-consecutive terms (2017–2021 and 2025–2029) as a “reset” due to some national crisis. It’s elegant on paper but would face fierce resistance as a blatant power grab. Still, in a moment of manufactured emergency—like economic turmoil or border unrest—it could gain traction among loyalists.
3. Courtroom Judo: Interpreting Limits Out of Existence
In 15% of cases, leaders turn to high courts to redefine term limits away, often by claiming they’re outdated or misapplied. This has an 83% success rate because judicial rulings carry the weight of finality. In Ecuador, for instance, the constitutional court in 2015 ruled that non-consecutive terms didn’t count against limits, paving the way for Rafael Correa’s allies to extend influence.
For Trump: With a conservative Supreme Court supermajority (including three justices he appointed), this isn’t far-fetched. Trump could challenge the 22nd Amendment’s text—arguing, say, that his terms weren’t fully “elected” due to 2020 disputes—or seek a ruling validating another strategy. Horley and Versteeg note that courts backed 30% of successful overstays globally, rarely blocking them outright (except in Colombia, where the court twice stopped Álvaro Uribe). Don’t count on the judiciary as a savior; it’s more likely to enable than obstruct.
4. The Puppet President: Install a Loyal Stand-In
Another 15% of attempts involve picking a “faithful agent”—a handpicked successor who acts as a placeholder while the real power pulls strings from the sidelines. It only succeeds 33% of the time because successors often grow independent. Putin’s 2008–2012 swap with Dmitry Medvedev is the gold standard: Putin became prime minister, shaped policy, then reclaimed the presidency.
For Trump: Legal scholar Akhil Reed Amar once proposed a U.S. twist using the 22nd and 25th Amendments—Trump and VP J.D. Vance alternating roles to dodge election caps, effectively ruling for 16 years on two ballots. Trump shot this down in a recent press Q&A, calling it “too cute” and unfair. A simpler version: Vance (or another ally) wins in 2028, then resigns or invokes the 25th to hand power back. Risky, though—Vance might not play ball once in the Oval Office.
5. Delay and Disrupt: Postpone the Vote
The rarest (5%) but most brazen method—delaying elections—has a perfect 100% track record, though it usually nets just temporary extensions. Leaders in Mali and Gabon have cited security threats to push polls back, buying years.
For Trump: In a polarized election year, claims of fraud, violence, or a “stolen” vote could justify postponement via executive order or congressional inaction. It’s legally shaky—the Constitution sets fixed dates—but with a GOP Congress, it might stick long enough for a workaround. This feels like a last resort, more likely to spark crisis than smooth transition.
Why This Isn’t Just Talk—and What Could Stop It
Trump’s third-term musings aren’t new; he teased them during his first presidency and even after the 2024 win. In February 2025, at a White House event, he asked the crowd, “Should I run again? You tell me.” Yet in a May NBC interview, he admitted it’s “not allowed,” bowing to the Constitution while noting massive fan demand. Republicans, too, have downplayed it: Senate Majority Leader John Thune told CNN in September that the talk expects a “light-hearted response,” insisting no change means no third term.
But complacency is dangerous. As Horley and Versteeg warn, even clear rules crumble under savvy leaders who cloak violations in legality. Globally, overstays thrive where institutions are weak or elites stay silent. In the U.S., the real brakes aren’t courts but public outrage, opposition parties, civil society, and party defectors—none guaranteed in a MAGA-dominated GOP.
If Trump tries, it’ll test America’s democratic resilience like never before. The 22nd Amendment was born from fears of eternal executives; undoing it, even creatively, could erode that safeguard. For now, Bannon’s “plan” remains a shadow. But history shows shadows can harden into reality. As 2028 nears, watch for the “appropriate time”—and prepare to defend the rules that keep power in check.
Tim Horley is a part-time professor at the University of Arizona’s James E. Rogers College of Law, specializing in constitutional litigation. Mila Versteeg is a professor at the University of Virginia School of Law, focusing on comparative constitutional law. This article draws on their 2020 study and recent reporting.
