Donald Trump: openness, secrets and lies

Ben Worthy and Marlen Heide 

Most politicians promise to be more open than their predecessors. But once in office, their outlook changes. They find themselves caught between the pressure to be open and the siren-call of secrecy. The conventional wisdom is that politicians rapidly fall out of love with transparency and its potential for exposure, uncertainty and unpleasant surprises. Obama is a case in point, as he went from executive orders promising a new era of openness to prosecuting more leakers than every other administration in US history before finally pardoning Chelsea Manning on his way out of the door.

Michael Wolff’s book Fire and Fury described how Trump has been both secretive and open at the same time: we have never known, simultaneously so much or so little about what a president has been doing and thinking. As Clare Birchall points out, he challenges some of our ideas about what being ‘open’ and ‘closed’ actually means.

Most presidents have hidden, or at least tried to hide, something. From Kennedy’s and Clinton’s philandering to Nixon’s bombing, everyone in the White House seems to have had something they wanted buried. Woodrow’s Wilson’s incapacitating illness was covered up so completely in 1919 that no one knew that his wife (a direct descendent of Pocahontas, no less) was acting President for more than year.

Yet no president has come to power with as many secrets as Trump. Perhaps Bill Clinton was his direct inspiration, with his constant dissembling and cover ups. In 2016 Trump refused to release his tax returns, while his medical report was written ‘in a few minutes’ (probably by Trump himself). Non-disclosure agreements abound in his business affairs and in the White House. There are also claims of ‘Catch and kill’ operations at major publications to bury stories about him, which have lately dragged in Amazon’s Jeff Bezos.

As President, Trump has issued secrecy waivers for lobbyists and refused to release White House visitor logs. His advisor daughter, inspired by ‘Crooked Hillary’, appears to have been using private email for public business. Trump’s only important mention of ‘transparency’ seems to be in reference to his border wall, which needs to be ‘transparent’. Here’s the full quote:

One of the things with the wall is you need transparency. You have to be able to see through it…And I’ll give you an example. As horrible as it sounds, when they throw the large sacks of drugs over, and if you have people on the other side of the wall, you don’t see them – they hit you on the head with 60 pounds of stuff? It’s over.

But what is it that Trump fears? Luke Harding’s book Collusion paints an extraordinary picture, in every sense of the word, of connections and conspiracy so vast that they are hard to believe and difficult to fathom. There appears to be a deep, twisted and toxic set of connections to Russia spanning decades and covering everything from Trump’s money to his cabinet picks. These begin with Soviet (and then Russian) intelligence overtures to Trump since the late 1980s, possibly involving compromising material. These are then overlaid with proposed business deals in the 1990s, the bailing out of Trump via Deutsche Bank and finally the infamous alleged meetings over leaks in 2016. The infamous Steele dossier, which is in a sense a raw intelligence statement rather than finished product, may be the bombshell hiding in plain sight. As Sarah Grant and Chuck Rosenberg explain :

The Mueller investigation has clearly produced public records that confirm pieces of the dossier. And even where the details are not exact, the general thrust of Steele’s reporting seems credible in light of what we now know.

Though large parts are not confirmed it has ‘held up well’. Wolff claims that there are other (worse) secrets hidden in their accounts.

While much of this remains circumstantial, Trump’s behaviour with Putin is certainly bizarre and, in national security terms, downright dangerous. When meeting Putin in late 2018, Trump had no note taker of his own and confiscated his interpreter’s notes. As this article points out:

President Trump has gone to extraordinary lengths to conceal details of his conversations with Putin, including on at least one occasion taking possession of the notes of his own interpreter and instructing the linguist not to discuss what had transpired with other administration officials.

This means that ‘there is no detailed record, even in classified files, of Trump’s face-to-face interactions with the Russian leader at five locations over the past two years’.

Yet, as the Wolff book points out, Trump’s White House is also oddly transparent and open, partly by intent and partly by accident. Trump committed to be, as Mark Fenster calls it, ‘morally open’ to the American people and, whichever way you read that, it is true. You do not need to search beyond Trump’s own Twitter account to know almost everything that the current President is thinking (and, interestingly, all those tweets are covered under the Presidential Records Act). Trump spectacularly demonstrated the power of the President to ‘declassify at will’ when he (accidentally? purposely?) disclosed sensitive Israeli intelligence on ISIS to Russia. He has also allowed cameras to film cabinet meetings and, more infamously, a meeting with Nancy Pelosi, which she branded her ‘skunk tickling’ clash. His declaration of a border emergency, and his admission that he ‘didn’t need to do it’, was part of Trump’s ‘honesty’ or his inability to understand that a politician needs to discriminate between their public (stated) and private (actual) motives: he is open because he is ‘undisciplined in his lack of hypocrisy’.

Part of this openness is accidental. For all the NDAs, this is by far the leakiest administration in modern history, with a stream of leaks opening up everything from Trump’s private life and racist views to the planning and chaos at the heart of government. A constant flow of memoirs have given us all sorts of details, including the fact that officials discussed using the 25th amendment to remove Trump in 2017. Bombshell leaks about everything are becoming the norm. Only in January 2019 did we discover that Trump was being investigated by his own FBI as a national security threat. It’s hard to imagine how the press and public would have reacted to such a revelation about Obama. Wolff claims that the biggest leaker, the super-leaker, is Donald J. Trump himself, who spends his evenings ranting to his billionaire friends on the phone.

Trump also has a remarkable ability to encourage greater openness pressure by his own actions, in what is commonly known as the ‘Streisand effect’. His rants and attacks have attracted the attention of the media and opponents and played an important part in the many ongoing investigations from the intelligence agencies (some of who he has insulted and sacked) and Congress (who he has raved about regularly).

Wolff’s book mentions that, among Trump’s many odd fixations, is an obsession with John W. Dean. He was Nixon’s White House Counsel who, fearing he was to be made the Watergate scapegoat, co-operated and gave evidence to the investigating committee in a blaze of damning publicity. Why, you may wonder, would Trump fixate upon someone with knowledge of something turning against him and going public?

The question is whether it will be Trump’s secrets or his openness that end his presidency. Amidst all this hyper-modern post-truth politics, Mueller’s investigation appears oddly old fashioned, patiently following the oft-repeated dictum to ‘follow the money’ and Robert Caro’s instruction to ‘turn every page’. The investigation is fundamentally about Russia, not Trump, but from what little can be gleaned, Mueller is quietly, privately and patiently assembling fragments and pieces to tell a devastating story. We still know little about what’s happening, but it may be that Trump’s collusion and obstruction are the same thing. Just like Clinton’s Whitewater investigation, no one knows quite where such patient, legalistic processes can lead and what they can reveal.

As publication is imminent, there’s now another transparency battle looming, as, legally speaking, the Attorney General does not have to release the report to Congress or the public. The new Attorney General, William Barr, promised repeatedly to abide with the procedures for sharing Mueller’s findings, but they do not obligate him to do anything except inform the public and Congress Mueller’s investigation is complete. That’s not to say, however, that Mueller’s report won’t be the most leakable document since the Steele report.

So far, documents have been the key. Whatever ‘thing’ happened, it needs to have been written down or recorded. So far, remember, Mueller was triggered by James Comey’s contemporary notes of his meeting with Trump. Flynn was caught out on intelligence recordings. Trump’s lawyer appeared to have been recording their conversations. Though you would assume care would be taken, Donald Trump Jr’s publishing of his emails shows there is a trail and Trump’s odd ‘recording’ tweet seemed to hint, with shades of Nixon, at some sort of taping system.

Records are at the heart of any good openness regime, and are normally behind any big scandal. Remember, Nixon was caught by his own recordings, not the allegations. For all his claims of being new or different, whether Trump stays or goes may depend very much on the age-old question of whether someone wrote it down or pressed record.

This post represents the views of the author and not those of Democratic Audit. 

THE UNKNOWN CHIEF? THE RISE AND INFLUENCE OF CHIEFS-OF-STAFF

Max Stafford

6 December 2018

 

It would be fair to say that the current tempests in our politics (both nationally and internationally) have not gone unnoticed.

Brexit and Theresa May’s withdrawal deal are now such an ever-constant news headline that even Mr. Blobby has got in on the act. Meanwhile the murder of Jamal Khashoggi, Donald Trump’s continual unpredictability and riots in France leave international politics also feeling as though it were a slightly outlandish plot in a Shakespearean tragedy. However, as with a Shakespeare play, it’s not just the main players that we should be focusing on. Any leader – dictator or democrat – needs a Polonius. Of course, the Polonius of Shakespearean fame emerges as somewhat of a bungler, so this may not be the best comparison – though Trump’s Twitter feed might benefit from consideration of the line that ‘Brevity is the soul of wit’. Nevertheless, leaders do need trusted advisors who they can rely on to both give good counsel and, when needed, drive forward the mechanics of implementing their decisions. It’s at this juncture that we encounter a curiously under-examined role – the chief-of-staff, again in the news after Trump announced the departure of his third.

 

 

The chief-of-staff is, in many ways, not a recent political innovation. J. R. Steelman became the first White House Chief-of-Staff in 1946. However, not all presidents have found the need for such a role (for instance, John F. Kennedy did not have an official bearing this title, though various other advisors largely filled this kind of role). Since 1979, under Jimmy Carter, the role has been filled consistently and, since 1946, there have been 28 White House Chiefs-of-Staff in total. Their functions have been varied – some have been firmly planted within the administrative functions of the White House whilst others, such as Trump’s John F. Kelly (pictured right), have been actively involved in hiring-and-firing of senior government officials and cabinet secretaries (most recently, Attorney General Jeff Sessions). The centrality of this role to the shaping of presidencies (their character and decisions), is captured in a recent and insightful book by Chris Whipple. The Gatekeepers delves into how Chiefs-of-Staff have not only used the position to exact influence over the President but have also used the role to create a springboard for taking their own careers up to the most senior level (with Donald Rumsfeld, Dick Cheney and Leon Panetta just a few of those who have done so). Likewise, their British counterparts have enjoyed similar successes with Tom Scholar (2007-2008) now heading the Treasury and Ed Llewellyn (2010-2016) now serving as Ambassador to France.

Indeed, the Chief-of-Staff role is becoming ever more a key aspect of British politics, too. Though they might not have been household names, there have been 7 Downing Street Chiefs-of-Staff to date (with the late Jeremy Heywood often falsely-cited as an eighth – a claim he was keen to dismiss in an answer to a question at this Institute for Government event in 2016). This list runs from Tony Blair’s appointment of Jonathan Powell in 1997. Some may argue that David Wolfson was the first, under Thatcher, but Powell was certainly the first to be formally titled as a Chief-of-Staff and who fulfilled the functions that we might recognise as defining the role. These include: oversight of the Downing Street staff; being a senior spokesperson for the Prime Minister; ensuring that the internal governmental machinery (the political, rather than Civil Service, side) fulfils the PM’s need for information and, finally; the gatekeeper function alluded to by Whipple. We might regard these as the essential aspects of the job, with incumbents placing their interpretations upon how far the role allowed them to insert themselves into policy-making and strategy formulation.

Of course, as with many political roles, the evolution of the various chief-of-staff posts has not always been a smooth one. Former Cabinet Secretaries Sir Robin Butler and Sir Richard Wilson (1988-1998 and 1998-2002, respectively) have discussed issues they encountered in accommodating the system to this semi-rival power within the heart of government. Though some of this was certainly personality-based (with Wilson since suggesting that he only found out from Powell’s subsequent book that they didn’t get on), it reflects well-established difficulty in introducing innovative reforms to central government machinery.

The personality factor is itself important. One has only to think of Fiona Hill and Nick Timothy, May’s infamous double act, and the backlash against them following the 2017 General Election to grasp at how quickly a Chief-of-Staff may go from the security of the PM’s ear to the precarity of public vilification. May’s current Chief-of-Staff, Gavin Barwell (pictured right), may yet find himself in a similar position. Thus far, he has used his position to try to build internal coalitions of support for the PM’s Brexit strategy (including through placing a close friend into the Brexit Secretary’s job during the last reshuffle). Such moments show the kind of networking savvy that any half-decent Chief-of-Staff must possess. However, Barwell could yet come unstuck (and presage the quick downfall of his boss). This may be achieved by his being May’s continual “go-to” ally (along with David Cabinet Office Minister Liddington and Chief Whip Julian Smith) when she wishes to brief both sides of the House of Commons on her contentious Brexit proposals. Already, this approach has led to him shouldering some of the criticism directed at May’s policy, so, continues to affect the way in which his role is seen under the current premiership. These May-era examples highlight a danger for any Chief-of-Staff – you can enjoy considerable patronage from your boss (and, in some cases, dispense its yourself) when their political stock is high but come a heavy storm and you may be the first person to go overboard.

Thus, we can begin to surmise the opportunities and threats for political chiefs-of-staff. You can hold unprecedented access to your leader. You have the opportunity not only to know their mind but, also, to shape it – Powell, Hill and Timothy all stand in testament to this. Indeed, in the latter two’s case, it was alleged that they challenged cabinet ministers’ authority in this regard. It is also easy to deduce why leaders might want a trusted ally in this role. Pick the right person and you have a staff member who can be relied upon to form the core of your Praetorian Guard, fighting for your view to prevail over others and prepared to let you know when you’re wrong. Dick Cheney, a former Chief-of-Staff to Gerald Ford (and later Vice-President) summarised it thus, in conversation with Whipple: ‘Somebody’s got to be the go-to-guy who can go into the Oval Office and deliver a very tough message to the president.’ They are, in many ways, an illustration of the much over-hyped concept of a “power-behind-the-throne” (consider Kelly’s role as sacker-in-chief for Trump since Summer 2017).

Alternatively, an uncontrolled person occupying this role can serve only to undermine their boss and attract too much attention towards the machinery that supports them. A good chief-of-staff becomes adept at using power behind the scenes on their leader’s behalf. A better one does it without constantly stamping their name all over the operation. There is a Machiavellian element here – be the powerful hand of your master, but don’t attract too much scrutiny yourself. Therefore, despite chief-of-staff’s frequent habit of stepping out in to more frontline roles after their time in office, perhaps the best occupiers of this role are the ones that we hardly hear of. In the interests of transparency, we should know who they are, given their importance as key advisors, but in the interests of effective government we shouldn’t read about them too often.

Find here, then, the trace of that much-vaunted political legend – the almost-anonymous advisor and chief fixer. Get it right and your boss is always the story, whilst you carry on oiling the wheels for them. Get it wrong and you could be the story, whilst the wheels come flying off their axel. Chiefs-of-staff are political appointments but the best of them never forget that they are also required to be adept administrators, thoughtful advisors and clear strategists. It’s a hard mix to find and this only goes towards further underlining why leaders are keen to hang on to them. Unless they mess up. Then we’ll all know whose fault it is!

Originally on the PSA politics blog.

Max Stafford is a final-year PhD student at Canterbury Christ Church University. He tweets at @PhDMayors. 

Image of John Kelly: Secretary of Defense CC by-2.0

Image of Gavin Barwell: Ministry of Housing, Communities and Local Government CC by-ND-2.0