‘The 45-ers’: Inside the Manhattan secret society quietly mobilising MAGA for Trump

You may have heard of secret societies—shadowy agents, power brokers, elites operating behind closed doors. But all of them, combined, in liberal Manhattan? That’s a rarity only New York could produce.

Deep inside the city that has consistently voted against Donald Trump, a discreet network of professionals, immigrants, artists and former intelligence officers has been quietly organising in his name. At the heart of it is an immigrant from Soviet Russia who arrived in America in 1989 chasing the dream of free speech, and found herself building a clandestine MAGA circle in the most unlikely of places.

They call themselves “The 45-ers.” Their group chat is named “45–47.” Their meeting spot? A bar inside Trump Tower. Who are they, and what exactly does this peculiar Manhattan secret society do? Let’s take a closer look.

Rebekah Koffler: Trump’s Silent Warrior

Rebekah Koffler’s journey to America was driven by a rejection of the totalitarian society she grew up in. Freedom of speech, she says, was the dream. Protection of the United States became the mission.

In an interview with The Times, Koffler revealed that she served as a senior intelligence analyst at the Defense Intelligence Agency from 2008 to 2017, specialising in Russian military strategy and Vladimir Putin. Her work, she says, was all in service of safeguarding U.S. national security.

Koffler has voted for Donald Trump in 2016, 2020 and 2024, believing he prioritises “U.S. security and the average American over personal interests and those of big corporations.”

Living in Manhattan, Trump’s hometown yet one of his most hostile political territories, came at a cost. Open support for MAGA, she realised, often meant social exile. Being pro-Trump was something to be hidden.

That realisation sparked something bigger: a desire to find others like her. Closet MAGA supporters. Quiet loyalists. People who loved the President—but whispered it.

Another Manhattan Secret Society

According to Koffler, the group lives largely under the radar. Members meet at 45, a bar inside Trump Tower. They call themselves “The 45-ers,” a nod to Trump’s presidency, and communicate through a group chat called “45–47,” where they share all things politics.

Their backgrounds couldn’t be more varied. Muslims and Catholics, immigrants and Mayflower descendants, teachers, comedians, business owners and former police officers.

What unites them is unwavering loyalty to Trump and a shared experience of backlash. The group discusses politics, defends Trump’s most controversial decisions and openly supports policies others denounce, from ICE raids to foreign policy standoffs and even capture of Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro. For them, the society isn’t just political. It’s protective, personal and progressive.

Meet the Manhattanites

“Trump is our Obama,” said Monica, a small business owner who believes Trump represents conservatives the way Barack Obama once inspired liberals. Her reason? “He comes from business, not politics.”

Bardh Vadahi, 57, emigrated from communist Albania in 2003 and works as a superintendent in Midtown. “He is not a politician,” Vadahi said. “He says what he means and means what he says. There’s nothing fake about him.”

Jimmy S, 52, a retired police officer turned media executive, lives with his wife Nicole in Trump Tower because it is a “fantastic building” with “excellent security and the best view in the city”.

Neil Greenfield, a comedian known for impersonating Trump, has endured assaults, 14 attacks and relentless hate. Still, he refuses to stop. “I know the risk,” he said. “And it’s worth it to me.”

Geoffrey K, a comedian, teacher and cab driver, supports Trump because he believes the former president “delivers what he promises.” Rose H, a theatre professional and former Rockette, and Sandi J, a retired speech-language pathologist, have also resisted anti-Trump pressure.

What do they all share? Harassment, trolling and, in some cases, physical attacks, for being pro-Trump. For years, many stayed silent in public. Until they found each other.

‘TRUMP!’ For 2028 and Beyond

Today, the secrecy is fading. Dwight Y, a 68-year-old retired police officer, wears a red baseball cap with an American flag patch and proudly hangs a U.S. flag along Central Park while playing. John D, another immigrant from communist Albania and a secular Muslim, wears his MAGA hat daily. When told to take it off, he simply swapped it for one that read: “TRUMP 2028.”

Where do Manhattan’s most unlikely Trump loyalists gather? 45, of course. And what do they hope for next? 45, then 47. And now—48.