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Kasowitz and Bowe tried to persuade Trump to stay calm and wait for Mueller to act, but that proved impossible. The self-proclaimed master counterpuncher used every platform he had to decry the investigation and cast himself as a victim of an unfair “witch hunt.” The president at first followed his lawyers’ advice not to personally attack the special counsel, but pleaded daily with those on his legal team to blast Mueller as conflicted, “dirty,” and staffed by Democrats.
Steaming mad over press coverage of the investigation, Trump was taping his weekly video address on an unrelated topic in the Diplomatic Reception Room of the White House one day when he sought help outside his cautious legal team. He gave an unusual directive to Cliff Sims, one of the press aides helping with the taping. “I want you to go write the most scathing thing you’ve ever written about the Mueller investigation, about this witch hunt, and come back to me by the end of the day and I’ll record that video,” Trump told Sims.
Sims scurried back to his desk and quickly typed about five hundred words. The rhetoric was bellicose and conspiratorial. “This is a coup,” the script read. It went far beyond the language Trump had used to date to describe the Russia investigation. Sims envisioned the president’s remarks not only eviscerating Mueller but also rallying his supporters to his defense. His conceit was that Mueller and his prosecutors were coming after not Trump but rather the voters who put him in office by seeking to overturn the election results. “We’re in this together against these people who are trying to delegitimize our victory,” the script read.
Sims knew his “coup” script was over the top. He showed it to Hope Hicks, the West Wing’s wisest interpreter of Trump’s instincts and decrees.
“This is insane,” Hicks said.
“What do you want me to do with this?” Sims asked.
“Well, the president asked you to do something,” she replied. “Go show it to him.”
Sims found Trump behind the Resolute Desk and handed him the script.
“I wrote this because you asked for it,” Sims said. “But this would be a disaster if you record this video.”
Trump read it and agreed.
“You’re right,” Trump said. “We won’t do it this time, but just hold on to it in case we ever want to use it.”
For once, Trump exhibited restraint. Fresh in his mind that afternoon was his lawyers’ advice not to attack Mueller. Yet at least part of Trump believed Sims’s script was right, that this had been an attempted coup.
The Mueller probe was not Trump’s only fixation during this period. He also was unnerved by the Russia investigations under way on Capitol Hill. The president felt somewhat protected by the House Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence because it was chaired by a Trump devotee, Republican Congressman Devin Nunes of California, but the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence was another story. That committee’s chairman, Senator Richard Burr of North Carolina, was an establishment-minded Republican with no particular affinity for Trump. Burr rightfully saw his committee as nonpartisan and worked closely with the panel’s top Democrat, Senator Mark Warner of Virginia. Burr and Warner together had spoken forcefully about Russia’s interference in the election, which the intelligence community determined was directed by the Kremlin with the explicit aim of helping Trump prevail.
Trump was deeply insecure about the intelligence community’s conclusion about Russian interference. He hated for anyone to think that he did not defeat Hillary Clinton entirely on his own, that his victory was somehow illegitimate. Suddenly the president had an idea: he could somehow convince Burr of his innocence by sending him a pile of printed-out news articles and fact sheets that he believed exculpated him. So during one of his meetings with McGahn in the Oval Office, Trump told the White House counsel he wanted to write a letter to Burr, with the news clippings attached.
McGahn knew it was a dangerous idea. He told Trump that sending this letter would be unwise. If Burr interpreted such a letter signed by the president as demeaning or even hostile, it could jeopardize not only the Russia investigation but also the administration’s overall agenda in the Senate, including confirmation of federal judges, a top priority for both Trump and McGahn. What’s more, it’s not as if Burr didn’t have his own easy access to such facts.
“We can’t do this,” McGahn told the president.
Trump came up with a Plan B: McGahn would sign the letter instead.
“Send the letter,” Trump said.
“I can’t send the letter, sir,” McGahn said. “We have other priorities up there.”
At that moment, Chris Christie walked into the Oval for a visit. Trump asked the New Jersey governor whether he would send the letter.
“If Don believes that it will upset your ability to get judges confirmed by the Senate, then the answer is no,” Christie told Trump. “That’s more important than whatever the fucking letter says.”
McGahn was visibly relieved. So often he had been the West Wing’s lone voice of resistance. Finally, someone else backed him up in refusing the president’s order.
Their defiance irritated Trump.
“You’re both jokes,” the president told McGahn and Christie. “Okay, leave. Bye.”
As they departed the Oval, McGahn said to Christie, “I wish you were around every day.”
“Why is that?” Christie asked.
“Because then I wouldn’t be the only dick in the building,” McGahn deadpanned.
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On June 21, The Wall Street Journal published a story by Eli Stokols and Michael Bender reporting that the White House was “riven by division between senior aides” and that the expanding Russia investigations had frustrated Trump and exacerbated the administration’s struggle to recruit new talent. The piece reflected poorly on Bannon and Priebus. Bannon was furious and lit into Hicks, screaming like a deck seaman at the former fashion model. He confronted her in front of Trump, accusing Hicks of having “leaked” a negative story to the Journal. She explained that her interactions had been entirely proper; it was, after all, her job to talk to reporters. Bannon was effectively taking on the president’s family. No senior White House staffer, other than Ivanka Trump and Jared Kushner, had a longer or deeper relationship with the president than Hicks, whom he treated like a surrogate daughter.
The next day, June 22, Bannon, Hicks, Priebus, and Sean Spicer met in the chief of staff’s office. Hicks knew she had done nothing wrong interacting with the Journal and expected Priebus and Spicer to defend her. But they did not.
“You’ve been running around here for months just working for Ivanka and Jared,” Bannon said to Hicks. “Your client is the man in the Oval Office.” He added, “You don’t actually work for the president. You forgot how you got here.”