I replied in a Tweet that has since been deleted: “You attack me, I can deal with! You attack my mom, NOT cool!! How does this help our community? You attack my mom?? Wow! #newLow!” My mother, Theresa, is a Democrat and had nothing to do with this. I was livid that he or anyone would sit in judgment of me when all I was doing was advocating for the African American community.
Throughout the primaries, we fought a tirelessly aggressive race. We were told we could never win, that he should never win, but he did win, despite the best efforts of his sixteen opponents and the majority of the media. I should have felt only pride and happiness. And yet, I was conflicted. Yes, I’d been part of an extraordinary phenomenon. I’d accomplished something incredible that precious few people who grew up where I did ever would. But so many members in my community resented my being a part of the team.
I ran into Donna Brazile coming out of the CNN booth at the RNC. She congratulated me on my appointment. She’d always been supportive and real with me. She reminded me that we need people in both camps. In the past months, she’d sent me gentle warnings about my affiliation with Trump and his fringe supporters like white supremacist and former Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan David Duke, but always with concern, never accusation—and would continue to do so in the coming months. In a text about my switching parties, she said, “We need you there. We are comforted that you’ll be in the room and at the table, as long as you are there we’re going to be okay.” I will always be grateful for her counsel at the time.
As a senior adviser and director on the campaign, I was on both the RNC and campaign mailing lists, and my email boxes started filling up with daily talking points (TPs; an apt acronym), updates, schedules, media-hits lists, headlines, Trump travel logistics information, etcetera. I was sending and receiving up to five hundred emails per day. The campaign memos I received were cc’ed to Hope Hicks, Rick Gates, and veteran Republican political operative Kevin Kellems (a Dick Cheney guy who lasted only two weeks). It was expanded to include ex–Ted Cruz comms director Jason Miller and speechwriter Stephen Miller, a Jeff Sessions’s protégé. The daily memo had the Trump/Pence logo on top, followed by a subject like, “How to Talk about Brexit” or “Fifty Facts about Hillary Clinton from Trump’s ‘Stakes of the Election’ Address.”
We had an entire daily memo devoted to “Trump Tweets Alerts,” just to handle talkers on his favorite platform of all. FDR used the radio to reach the public. JFK used television. DJT uses Twitter. He’s addicted to it because he’s a narcissist, and he revels in his many million followers. The likes and retweets feed his ego. It’s the ultimate power tool for him because he controls his content. It’s not censored or even spellchecked. No one can tell him what to write or say. He can tweet about anything in the world, and does, with a rawness that is decidedly not presidential. He loved the idea that any tweet could set off a firestorm and that they allowed him to get his message directly to his base.
Our job was to turn his tweets into targeted messaging. The Trump Tweet Alert memo came with specific TPs to respond to whatever he posted in the wee hours. The writer of the TPs depended on the subject matter of Trump’s tweet. If Trump posted about domestic policy, the expert in that field would write them. If he posted about international foreign policy, the national security advisers would write them. Every adviser to the campaign was enlisted to contribute to these daily alerts to explain to the rest of the team how to deal with his 140-character policy statements and missives.
We had daily communications from the Republican National Committee, which isn’t so surprising. A little more strangely, a select Trump campaign mailing list received daily emails directly from a producer at Fox News that summarized the news of the day, broke down talking points and spin suggestions, and offered resources. For example, a typical @foxnews.com email would have a complete transcript of a recent Hillary Clinton speech, a second-by-second breakdown and analysis, with specific suggestions for how to respond to her, line by line.
People suspected that there was a relationship between Fox News and the Trump campaign, and that there were people at Fox working tirelessly to get him elected. To all those people, I can confirm that you have no idea just how right you were. The back-and-forth of daily communications between individuals at Fox and the Trump White House continues to this day. People joke that Trump gets his talking points by watching Fox News, and that is certainly true. But individuals at Fox News are also speaking directly to his team of advisers every single day. The channel’s channels are wide-open.
The first marquee event of the convention, on opening night, was the speech by Melania Trump. Her profile on the campaign had been extremely low. I could count on both hands how many appearances she’d made for him for the campaign. On the rare occasions she came to an event, we talked backstage in the green room or the hold room or when she and Donald came out of the motorcade. I would give her an update on how things were going, and she was always polite and friendly. It reminded me of the first time we’d met, during my first season on The Apprentice while filming the very first episode. Melania gave us, the winning team, a tour of the famous Trump Tower triplex. She came down the gilded staircase and greeted us warmly, the stunning lady of the manor.
As I watched her speech that night, I was so incredibly proud. The crowd received her well. My favorite line was, “The only limit to your achievements is the strength of your dreams and your willingness to work for them.” Amen, sister.
I thought to myself, We could have utilized her more during the primaries. I understood and respected her choice to stay in New York with Barron and not join the campaign trail full-time. We had plenty of Trump family members already involved, Don Jr. and Eric, and the fantastic Lara Trump. The best way to combat the woman problem was to showcase Trump’s beautiful, intelligent wife. I made a mental note to talk to her team about that in the morning once the rave reviews came in.
Unfortunately, the next morning, there was breaking news. A freelance TV reporter named Jarrett Hill noticed similarities between Melania’s speech and another convention speech from eight years ago, Michelle Obama’s at the Democratic Convention in Denver.
From Michelle’s speech: “And Barack and I were raised with so many of the same values: that you work hard for what you want in life; that your word is your bond, and you do what you say you’re going to do; that you treat people with dignity and respect, even if you don’t know them, and even if you don’t agree with them. And Barack and I set out to build lives guided by these values, and to pass them on to the next generation. Because we want our children—and all children in this nation—to know that the only limit to the height of your achievements is the reach of your dreams and your willingness to work for them.”
From Melania’s speech: “From a young age, my parents impressed on me the values that you work hard for what you want in life, that your word is your bond and you do what you say and keep your promise, that you treat people with respect. They taught and showed me values and morals in their daily lives. That is a lesson that I continue to pass along to our son. And we need to pass those lessons on to the many generations to follow. Because we want our children in this nation to know that the only limit to your achievements is the strength of your dreams and your willingness to work for them.”
Internally, the texts between the spokespeople and comms teams were nonstop. The TP emails were coming one after another. The decision was made to place the blame for the plagiarism on Meredith McIver, who was an in-house staff writer from the Trump Organization and coauthor of two of Trump’s books. It was painful to watch her take the blame, because she was one of the higher-ranked persons of color in the Trump Organization. She was asked to fall on the sword, and she did. In her July 20, 2016, statement to the press, she explained that snippets of Michelle’s speech did wind up in Melania’s in the process of creating it.
“This was my mistake, and I feel terrible for the chaos I have caused Melania and the Trumps, as well as to Mrs. Obama
. No harm was meant,” she said. “Yesterday, I offered my resignation to Mr. Trump and the Trump family, but they rejected it. Mr. Trump told me that people make innocent mistakes and that we learn and grow from these experiences. I apologize for the confusion and hysteria my mistake has caused. Today, more than ever, I am honored to work with such a great family. I personally admire the way Mr. Trump has handled this situation and I am grateful for his understanding.”
They chose McIver as the sacrificial lamb, but they needed to keep her under control, so she was not fired. If they had fired her, she would have been free to tell the world any number of Trumpworld secrets. The ending about “honor” and “gratitude” toward Trump is classic loyalty-oath behavior. Many canny people have figured out that praising him is the only way to get his attention and approval.
The negative exposure destroyed any hope of Melania joining the campaign efforts. She appeared reluctantly onstage when Trump accepted his nomination a few days later, but behind the scenes, she was humiliated and furious at Donald for forcing her into a position of scrutiny and vulnerability. My heart went out to her during this horrible time of being mocked. It had to be devastating to be in that position. It was a blow to her, and a loss to the campaign. She practically disappeared for the rest of it.
• • •
I WENT ABOUT my business, and spoke at an evening reception for black GOPers, participated in town halls, attended events, in and out of the arena, picking my way through angry protesters and city police. I was able to leave the convention and attend a family reunion for a few hours. My cousin Darian Rushton was there. A Democrat, Darian is one of my favorite cousins. He served in the army and works at the VA in Ohio. I brought him back to the convention with me and took him to a few events.
In the Trump family spectator box, there was a constant stream of GOP players like Karl Rove and former primary foes like Chris Christie and Ben Carson. The future Women for Trump team was always around: Lynne Patton, and Lynnette Hardaway and Rochelle Richardson, a.k.a. Diamond and Silk, YouTube stars and Trump diehards.
Tiffany Trump, the only child of Donald’s second wife, Marla Maples, gave a warm-up speech on the second night. I watched her from the family box, sitting with the three children of Donald’s first wife, Ivana. It was America’s first chance to get to hear and see Tiff, and I thought it was an important moment for her. She’d always been treated like a California castoff, but that night, she was given a platform, and she did a great job.
Don Jr. spoke sometime that night after Tiffany. I remember feeling anxious for Don Jr., because of how hard his father was on him. If Don Jr. flubbed his address, Donald would surely make cracks about how “disappointed” he was, as he often did with his firstborn. He hit his regular-guy “pouring concrete and hanging sheetrock,” “doctorates in common sense,” and “dignity of hard work” talking points about his father. An avid hunter, he spoke passionately about Second Amendment rights. I wished I could have seen Donald Trump react to his son’s fiery address, but he wasn’t in the arena that night. Much to my relief, Don Jr. did very well. But no matter how good a job Don Jr. did, I was sure his father would find some fault with it. Don Jr. was desperate to please his father, and that same desperation caused him to trip up.
My heart went out to Don whenever I saw them interact. Having lost my father very young, I understood Don Jr.’s longing for his father’s approval, which was not forthcoming. Ivana Trump, Don Jr.’s mother, wrote in her recent memoir Raising Trump that when she and her husband were deciding what to name their firstborn, she suggested Donald Jr. Trump was against it. She asked why, and he said, “What if he’s a loser?” His father was afraid that his son was going to be an embarrassment. Don Jr. has been struggling against the negative expectation of his namesake since the moment he was born.
The family box was the best place to watch the speeches and take photos. I must have snapped several hundreds of them. While flipping through them, I came across many of Vanessa Trump, Don Jr.’s wife, sitting next to him. They never held hands or touched. They never even looked at each other. She had a dour expression on her face the entire time. I believe that as far back as July 2016, if not even farther, their marriage was hanging by a thread. But she showed up at the convention and the debates anyway, taking her seat in the row of Trump wives out of respect for her father-in-law.
The third night of the convention, June 20, there was a technical snafu in the middle of Eric Trump’s speech. The electrical system shorted out, and all the video monitors went down—but not the teleprompter, thank God. Eric stood onstage when the forty-foot LED screens behind him started to flash and then go dark. Eric didn’t miss a beat. He continued with his speech and hit every line. He earned big points with his father that night. He’d carried on triumphantly, regardless of glitches or obstacles, and that was the Trump way. Donald was sitting in the family box that night, between Don Jr. and Ivanka Trump. He beamed with pride at his second son. Traditionally, the candidate doesn’t sit in the family box to watch the speeches. When Donald sat there to watch Eric, I felt sorry for Don Jr.
The monitors were repaired by the time Mike Pence took the stage. I’d only just met him in the family box that day. He came right over to me and said, “Omarosa! I know all about you and how helpful you’ve been to Mr. Trump, and I’m so looking forward to working together.” He waved over three men who looked like his clones. “I’d like you to meet my brother, and my other brother, and my other brother.” I liked the Pence clan. “We always knew this would happen to Mike. He’s always wanted to be president . . . I mean vice president!” one of his brothers said with a wink. It was a real joking-not-joking look, and I filed it under “keep an eye on that situation.”
On the final night of the convention, Ivanka Trump walked out to the Beatles’ “Here Comes the Sun,” and gave her MAGA-power speech. Like all of his children, she was articulate, poised, and well prepared. Unfortunately, her polished address was overshadowed by controversy the next day. Ivanka tweeted a photo of herself that showed her blush pink dress to great advantage, with the caption, “Shop Ivanka’s look from her #RNC speech” with a link to Macy’s retail page. The $138 Ivanka Trump Collection dress quickly sold out, but the media was in an uproar about her using her convention address as a branding opportunity. She’d be similarly criticized for plugging a gold bracelet on 60 Minutes. I am sure Donald loved Ivanka’s selling of her dress, seizing each and every opportunity to advance the Trump brand.
It was a hard habit to break. In February 2017, when Nordstrom stopped carrying Ivanka’s brands due to either poor sales or political pressure, depending on whom you spoke to, her father tweeted that the retail chain treated his daughter unfairly and that “She is a great person—always pushing me to do the right thing! Terrible!” Soon after, Kellyanne Conway appeared on Fox & Friends and said, “Go buy Ivanka’s stuff! I own some of it. . . . I’m going to give a free commercial here. Go buy it today, everybody. You can find it online.” That set off yet another firestorm about the ethics of using public office for private gain. Some said that a veteran surrogate like Conway should have known better. I believe she did know better. She was playing to an audience of one, the candidate. Part of her role was to say whatever Trump wanted or would have liked to hear, and she did exactly that, every time, with a huge smile on her face.
When Ivanka finished her speech, she presented “my father and our next president, Donald J. Trump!” The nominee walked onstage from the wings, went over to his daughter, placed his hands on her bare upper arms and kissed her. Then he placed his hands low on her hips while appraising her, and then patted her on her hip. The placement of his hands made everyone uncomfortable. But I was used to the sickening feeling I had whenever they touched or kissed or he openly admired her form. Usually, it was in private, like the time not too long before the convention, during the campaign, when Trump and I and a few other people were in a meeting. Ivanka came into the room wearing a fitted skirt. The entire meeting
had to stop so he could gush about her body. “You look great! I like the way that skirt fits. Doesn’t Ivanka look great?” He insisted that we all agree that his daughter’s tight skirt was very flattering. I thought, Why don’t the two of you cut it out? It appeared to me that Ivanka had gotten so used to his touching her in ways that made others cringe and either didn’t notice it anymore or purposefully allowed it to happen—as I’ve said, Ivanka uses his obsession with her to her advantage.
Donald proceeded to deliver his Stephen Miller–penned speech. The speech was referred to by liberals as “Midnight in America,” a dark twist on Ronald Reagan’s famous “Morning in America” speech. The speech focused on the dangerous state of our nation. Murders on the rise. People killed by the thousands on our streets. Nearly 180,000 illegal immigrants with criminal records, roaming free across the country. The millions of blacks and Latinos living in poverty, and the escalating crime rates. Police officers gunned down. Islamic radicals streaming across the borders. Terror everywhere.
Trump was the law-and-order candidate. He was going to go to war against terrorism, street crime, and illegal immigration. When I’d read this speech on paper, it didn’t sound as dark and menacing as it did when he delivered it. He was speaking to his cult—not the country.
Although Trump said he wanted to improve the lives of all Americans, he blamed our country’s problems completely and specifically on certain subsets of the population: black and brown people. It was hard to miss the racial undertones of his speech. When he railed against criminals, terrorists, and gangs, many figured he was not talking about white people. He said, “I am your voice.” And by “your,” he meant steel workers and coal miners in the Rust Belt. It was classic dog-whistle racism.
When I read the headlines, I knew I had to talk to him, to get him to understand that words matter. Thirteen months later, when white supremacists rallied in Charlottesville, I would realize that Trump’s acceptance speech at the convention had set the standard for his racial agenda. But that night, I tried to qualm the uneasiness that I felt. I checked myself and my thoughts. I was in the moment, feeding off the excitement in the convention hall. As the balloons dropped, I said a prayer for Donald and for the country.
Unhinged: An Insider's Account of the Trump White House Page 12