The Shadow President

by Michael D'Antonio

  Christie’s job was to help convince Pence to tone down his expected primary endorsement. Endorse Cruz if you must, was his message, but avoid saying anything negative about Trump. Cruz had dismissed the outcome in New York as a matter of home-field advantage. However, he was desperate to win in Indiana, where a May 3 victory for Trump would lead to the nomination at the national convention. If Pence would temper his support for Cruz, Trump would return in the fall to help the governor, who faced a difficult reelection bid against Democrat John Gregg.

  The meeting went well. Pence would still back Cruz, but in the mildest terms. Christie departed first, flying back to New Jersey, his mission accomplished.

  Trump and Pence talked a bit more and hit it off. Afterward, Trump rode off to a campaign stop at the Indiana State Fairgrounds, where he railed against “Lyin’ Ted” Cruz and his likely Democratic opponent, “Crooked” Hillary Clinton. He also made a point of expressing his support for the state’s governor and even hinted that he had come to Indianapolis just for his meeting with Pence.

  “You know I wasn’t supposed to be here today,” said Trump. “I’m supposed to be here in two weeks. You know that, but I had to come early,” he added. “By the way, I have to tell you, you have a governor, Governor Pence is really fighting hard for you.” He might have planned to say more, but a protester interrupted his monologue. “Get him out,” Trump said, pointing at a man wearing a Trump mask. “Get him out, that’s all right.”

  * * *

  As Ted Cruz campaigned in Indiana, he understood he was the only one who stood between Trump and the Republican nomination. Governor John Kasich of Ohio was on the ballot, but he had no realistic chance to win. The key for Cruz could be a strong endorsement from Pence, which might shore up the conservative Christian vote. Trump was going for blue-collar workers by visiting industrial plants like a Carrier air-conditioning factory, where he promised to save jobs slated to be moved to a lower-cost facility in Mexico. (State aid facilitated by Pence would delay the move but not save the jobs.)

  Pence finally made his move on April 29, a few days before the balloting. Then, rather than appearing with the Texas senator so Cruz could get photos with him, Pence booked an on-air visit with radio host Greg Garrison, who had replaced him years earlier as Indiana’s conservative radio voice. In his statement, Pence used the word clear twice, which signaled the truth of the matter, which was that his endorsement was hardly ringing.3

  It’s clear, this is a time for choosing. I have met with all three candidates … and I want to say clearly I like and respect all three of the Republican candidates in the field. I particularly want to commend Donald Trump, who I think has given voice to the frustration of millions of working Americans with the lack of progress in Washington, D.C.

  And I’m also particularly grateful that Donald Trump has taken a strong stand for Hoosier jobs when we saw jobs in the Carrier Company abruptly announce leaving Indiana—and not for another state but for Mexico. I’m grateful for his voice in the national debate. Let me say, I’ve come to my decision on whom I’m supporting, and I’m not against anybody, but I will be voting for Ted Cruz in the upcoming Republican primary. I see Ted Cruz as a principled conservative who has dedicated his career to advocating the Reagan agenda.

  Governor Pence, who understood that Cruz could only slow and not stop Donald Trump’s march to the nomination, had served himself well by recognizing what Trump needed and delivering it. The milquetoast quality of his endorsement made it clear that his loyalists could support Trump without reservation, and many did. On Election Day, the New Yorker grabbed 53 percent of the vote, swamping Cruz’s 38 points. Kasich dropped out, and Reince Priebus, chairman of the GOP, announced that Trump was the presumptive nominee. This statement freed every Republican and the party’s donors to focus on supporting one man and opposing Clinton.

  As Indiana’s Republican primary voters clinched things for Trump, Chris Christie could take some of the credit for the Pence maneuver. Surely he thought that Trump appreciated what he had done, and as he continued to travel around the country on Trump’s behalf, speculation raged over whether he might be the nominee for vice president. Approaching the end of his second term as governor, Christie’s approval rating was below 30 percent, which meant he was doing far worse than Pence was doing in Indiana. But superficially, at least, he seemed to have more in common with Trump. Both were tough-talking, brash and egotistical. This made it hard for him to play a supporting role in Trump’s campaign. Indeed, Christie was so much like Trump that his presence on the GOP ticket would do little to reassure voters who were concerned about the New Yorker’s style. To make things worse, Trump had taken to teasing Christie in public.

  When Christie was with Trump in Youngstown and the candidate intended to mock Ohio’s own governor, Kasich, Trump couldn’t resist bullying Christie too. Like Kasich, Christie had spent weeks looking for votes in New Hampshire, with little success.

  “Where’s Chris? Is Chris around?” said Trump as a campaign rally crowd looked on. “Even more than Chris Christie, he was there [in New Hampshire],” Trump said of Kasich. “I hated to do that, but I had to make my point,” he said to Christie.

  Christie was forced to roll with the punches when he was teased, especially about his weight. His answer to insults was always to play along. He even joked with Jimmy Fallon on The Tonight Show about the proper method of eating M&Ms. It was harder for Christie when Trump was the one taking shots at him. After Trump agreed to help out with Christie’s estimated $250,000 presidential campaign debt, Trump made fun of him for it. This was the campaigning style of an insult comic, and yet it worked for Trump. At an appearance on Christie’s home turf—Lawrence Township, New Jersey—Trump said, “There’s nothing like New Jersey. Wise guys, so many wise guys. If you can make it in New Jersey, you can do just about anything you want in life.” He then pivoted to the subject of jobs and joked he would stop eating Oreo cookies because the manufacturer, Nabisco, had moved one of its plants to Mexico.

  “I’m not eating Oreos anymore—neither is Chris!” said Trump, pointing to Christie, seated to his right. “You’re not eating Oreos anymore. No more Oreos. For either of us, Chris. Don’t feel bad, for either of us.”

  Playing along with the joke was a small price to pay for the prize Christie sought, so even as commentators and comedians pointed to the indignity of it all, Christie continued to serve as comic target at his rallies and met with skeptical Republicans to persuade them that Trump was worthy of their support. After one report had Trump ordering Christie to personally bring him fast food, reporters corralled the New Jersey governor at a campaign appearance. Trump had just lashed out at U.S. District Court judge Gonzalo P. Curiel, who was hearing a lawsuit in California against Trump University for allegedly deceptive practices. Trump called Curiel “a hater of Donald Trump” and claimed that the judge was Mexican and was biased against him. In fact, the judge was born in Indiana.

  Assigned to clean up after Trump, Christie said that he didn’t “know the judge” or the particulars of the Trump University case (Trump eventually settled for a $25 million payout to deceived customers), but “Donald Trump is not a racist,” Christie said. “So, you know, the allegations that he is are absolutely contrary to every experience I’ve had with him over the last fourteen years, and so we’re going to end it there.”

  As the Republican National Convention approached, news reports circulated that Christie was in line for the job he was angling for with Trump: vice president. The choice would be a bit unconventional, as it violated the usual practice of a presidential candidate seeking to “balance” the top of the ticket. Later, members of Pence’s staff claimed that Christie himself was the source of the rumors that he was being strongly considered. “He was the one doing all the leaking about the decision,” one said. A Trump-Christie combination would put two people from the same region and with the same personal style together. It would also run contrary to Trump’s preference, whenever he
hired someone, for a person whose good looks reflected well on the boss. Trump considered job-seekers in the way a casting director regarded a group of actors auditioning for a role. He preferred people who looked the part.

  Presidential candidates select their own running mates, and some use the process to test the feelings of party leaders as well as voters. (It can also be a way to identify members of a cabinet.) On July 9, a week before the convention would begin, Christie was asked to meet with A. B. Culvahouse Jr., an attorney who had helped John McCain review his choices for vice president in 2008. This was considered the final step before Trump would make his decision. The press also reported that former Speaker of the House Newt Gingrich, Lieutenant General Michael Flynn, and Mike Pence were under consideration. Christie enjoyed front-runner status, in part because he had a good rapport with Trump and in part because he had shown himself to be a loyal and effective campaigner.

  Although Christie could bring skills and a comfort level to the Trump campaign, he had two problems. First, despite Trump’s claims of financial independence, his campaign was looking for funding support. Neither Christie nor Flynn would be a conduit for campaign contributions. Gingrich had some fund-raising strength, but Pence, who had broad support from right-wing donors like Charles and David Koch, was just as likely to be able to tap the wallets of skeptical donors. The more nagging, immediate problem for Christie, and one he could not escape, was the question of how much influence Jared Kushner, Trump’s son-in-law, would have in the final decision. As U.S. attorney in New Jersey in 2005, Christie successfully prosecuted Kushner’s father, Charles, in a sordid case that included charges of illegal campaign contributions, tax evasion, and witness tampering. The witness tampering story was particularly ugly. Charles Kushner, thinking that his sister, Esther, and her husband were providing information against him to Christie, had set up the brother-in-law with a prostitute, filmed their sexual encounter, and sent the tape to his sister. Kushner was convicted and sentenced to two years in federal prison.

  Christie’s secret meeting with Culvahouse had taken three hours and involved questions about personal issues and details surrounding the infamous “Bridgegate” scandal. (The governor’s closest aides had been charged with organizing a traffic jam during rush hour at the George Washington Bridge to retaliate against a New Jersey mayor who had not supported Christie’s reelection.) He had not even confirmed meeting with Culvahouse, but in a Facebook posting, Gingrich did describe his experience in the same process. Gingrich reported being grilled by Culvahouse and three other lawyers. He said Culvahouse told him, “If you run for president, the American people vet you, the news media vets you. But if you’re picked to be vice president, there is no—you’re not in a primary, you’re not out in the open. You’re not being investigated by the reporters. And so it’s a much more rigorous process, actually, to be vetted for vice president than there is to be vetted for president.”4

  As the interviews proceeded, Trump highlighted the drama over his selection as if it were an episode of his reality TV show The Apprentice, where a winner is selected after grueling competitions. The Trump campaign leaked the fact that the four final candidates included Christie, Gingrich, Pence, and Flynn. Flynn’s star seemed to dim on July 10, when on ABC TV, he said that he supported abortion rights. No matter that Trump had been glossing over the fact that he had also once supported abortion rights. Flynn then appeared on the Fox News network, saying that he was actually against abortion rights; waffling on such an important issue would not sit well with the voters in the base Trump had assembled. Trump immediately signaled the problem: “I do like the military, but I do very much like the political,” Trump told The Washington Post. “I will make my mind up over the next three to four days. In my mind, I have someone that would be really good.”5

  On Monday morning, July 11, Christie went to a rally in Virginia Beach, Virginia, to introduce Trump as he had many times since he’d quit the presidential race himself. Trump said he had “always demanded the best from everyone who has worked for him and with him,” Christie said. “He is someone who will give you confidence every night when you put your head on the pillow that his number-one priority will be the safety and security of your family.”6

  This time, however, Christie was not invited to stay on the platform when Trump spoke. It was a subtle but obvious sign, and Christie had reason to be worried. In the meantime, Pence backers fretted too. They claimed that the New Jersey governor was issuing leaks to the news media about the vice presidential contest in order to boost his own position. In fact, the momentum had shifted in Pence’s direction. On Tuesday, July 12, Trump flew to Indianapolis for a campaign appearance with Pence. He was accompanied by Ivanka Trump, his daughter, and her husband, Kushner. Christie did not make the trip.

  “I often joke, you’ll be calling up Mike Pence,” Trump said at the rally. “I don’t know if he’s going to be your governor or your vice president. Who the hell knows?”7

  Rather than leave Indianapolis that night, Trump stayed in town. His aides said the cause was a flat tire on his airplane but mechanics can change a tire on a jetliner in about forty-five minutes. If Trump wanted to leave he could have, which meant he had a purpose in staying. This story would become a key element in the intrigue around the selection of Trump’s running mate. It would later emerge that Trump’s campaign manager, Paul Manafort, who thought Pence would bring doubters to Trump’s side, might have concocted the flat tire tale in order to keep the candidate in Indiana. As CBS News and others would report, Trump had offered the job to Christie, but Manafort and Pence’s family hoped to change the candidate’s mind.

  The layover gave Pence, the governor with an uncertain future, more time with Trump at dinner, where he was able to make a hard sales pitch for himself. On the following morning, Trump, Ivanka, Kushner, and the candidate’s son Donald Jr. were guests at the governor’s mansion for a ninety-minute breakfast meeting. To all appearances, the family was passing judgment on the man who secretly had become front-runner as the vice presidential candidate.8

  Whether it was the family or Manafort or someone else who had propelled Pence to the front of the line, the Indiana governor had his own decision to make. “He was going into this with his eyes open,” said one source who was in close contact with Pence those days. “He knew exactly who Trump was and what he faced.” Pence and Karen pulled aside to pray for clarity, this source said. Pence believed that his political life had been guided by miracles, and had previously prayed for a clear sense of God’s purpose for him. Based on this perspective, the airplane’s flat tire could be seen as a sign from heaven. Now his prayers gave him the guidance he sought. He would accept. “Once he got to that point, he never looked back.”

  * * *

  After breakfast, Pence, wearing an open shirt, accompanied Trump to the candidate’s SUV. Neither man said a word to reporters, who were kept at a distance. As cameras recorded the departure, they shook hands vigorously. Trump patted the governor on the shoulder and pointed at Pence as he told him something. Pence appeared to agree in single syllables to what Trump had said. The men then turned to photographers, and Trump flashed a smile. Then he was on his way.

  Before they left Indianapolis, Trump and his family met with Newt Gingrich, who seemed to be making a last-ditch effort for his own candidacy. In the meantime, aides to Pence told reporters that meetings with Trump had gone very well.

  After Trump left the capital, Pence put on one of the governor’s signature polo shirts he had ordered for himself (it was emblazoned with his name) and went to the Indiana State Fair. His body language and words revealed little as he shook his head and shrugged at questions. Pence’s replies combined his typical, very un-Trumpian aw-shucks humility and statements that showed how he might help the man at the top of the ticket win over skeptical Christian conservatives.

  “I’m thinking he’s giving it very careful consideration,” said Pence, “and we’re humbled to be a part of that. We were r
eally honored to have not only Mr. Trump but a number of his children and son-in-law join us at the governor’s residence. It’s great to have them in Indiana and great to have a chance to break bread. Nothing was offered; nothing was accepted.… These are good people; this is a good family. He’s a dedicated family man, a great dad. He’s a builder, he’s a fighter, and he’s a patriot.” Pence was already campaigning to normalize the man he sought to serve; and Pence knew that what he had said about Trump that day was not “clear” at all—or true.9

  Later, Pence would say that Trump called him one evening soon after the family visit and made the formal offer. “It was eleven o’clock at night,” Pence recalled, speaking to a gathering of Christian religious leaders. “We heard the call might be coming. We prayed all the way through it as a family, we talked it over with our kids, and we knew that we would answer the call if it came. I picked up the phone at eleven o’clock with Karen at my side in the governor’s residence, and I heard that familiar voice, and he said, ‘Mike, it’s going to be great.’”10