by Howard Kurtz
True, Breitbart was quick to accuse Trump of a “flip-flop” when, in his first major speech since Bannon’s departure, the president yielded to the advice of his generals and announced that he was reinforcing American troops in Afghanistan rather than withdrawing them. Trump said his instinct to pull out American troops had to change because the vantage point is different “when you’re sitting behind the desk in the Oval Office.” Rather than accuse him of flip-flopping, the Washington Post, like much of the rest of the mainstream media that approved of his decision, said it “marks a new willingness to take greater ownership of a protracted conflict that he had long dismissed as a waste of time and resources.”
Yet twenty-four hours later, Trump wiped away the Afghanistan story with a long and stinging indictment of the media that exceeded even his own history of high-decibel attacks. Senior officials had begged him not to hold a rally in Phoenix, Arizona, because they knew he would use the occasion to defend his response to the Charlottesville violence. But he went anyway, and once there Trump denounced journalists as “sick people” who “don’t like our country,” insinuating that they were unpatriotic. Since they had painted him as polarizing, he told the cheering crowd: “If you want to discover the source of the division in our country, look no further than the fake news and the crooked media.” They were the ones, he said, “giving a platform to these hate groups.” It was a form of media Jiu-Jitsu, flipping the blame to those who accused him of encouraging racism.
In his half-hour rant, Trump engaged in some hyperbole and exaggeration. “I said, racism is evil. Do they report that I said that racism is evil?” Actually, yes. News outlets reported it again and again because it was part of his scripted statement naming neo-Nazis and the KKK. And Trump’s recital of what he had said left out the most controversial passages, such as that there was violence “on many sides.” Trump just couldn’t let it go.
Some anchors and commentators took the bait Trump offered them and revealed the depth of their hostility. Don Lemon declared that Trump “is unhinged, it’s embarrassing and I don’t mean for us, the media, because he went after us, but for the country.” Lawrence O’Donnell literally interrupted the president’s speech to say that “uh, this is the president lying about the media.”
Even former anchors felt compelled to join the fray. Tom Brokaw charged the president with a “cheap shot,” saying he’d never met a journalist who didn’t love America. Katie Couric announced that “I am truly afraid for our country.”
And the amateur psychiatrists went, well, insane. One CNN commentator, Maria Cardona, said Trump might be “psychologically demented.” Another, Ana Navarro, said the president might be suffering from “early-onset dementia,” and if he wasn’t, “then he is just such an incredible, self-centered, narcissistic, unfit jerk.” New York Times columnist Charles Blow, called him a “cretin” and said, “I honestly hate this man, and I do mean HATE!”
In the eyes of his supporters, such journalists validated Trump’s argument that they were the recklessly divisive ones.
The mainstream media viewed Hurricane Harvey as a major political test for Trump—and assumed that, as a government novice, he couldn’t possibly be up to the challenge.
Even when he quickly visited the flood-ravaged areas of Texas and huddled with local officials, and federal emergency services ran smoothly, he never got credit for passing the test—and he drew media flak for insufficient empathy. That word, “empathy,” was heard over and over, with the likes of Lawrence O’Donnell saying that “President Trump visited Texas but he forgot to bring any empathy with him, but he did bring a hat, a hat that is for sale.” The Washington Post said that “yet again, Trump managed to turn attention on himself” rather than “on the millions of Texans whose lives have been dramatically altered by the floodwaters.”
The media ideal of a compassionate president was Bill Clinton, biting his lip and feeling the victims’ pain, or Barack Obama, hugging everyone in sight and delivering an eloquent speech. Trump had a CEO’s approach, checking up on his managers, setting priorities, making sure the operation was functioning properly. So even though FEMA was performing well, the press shifted the goalposts and made feelings, not results, the mandatory standard in hurricane relief. And for good measure, the pundits ridiculed Melania because she boarded Marine One in six-inch stilettos (before later switching to sneakers). Not until Trump met victims and handed out lunches in a second visit four days later did the media allow that he was fulfilling the role they had prescribed.
The monster storm stirred the political waters as well—with help from the president, who used the occasion, when he knew TV ratings would be skyrocketing, to announce his controversial pardon of former Arizona sheriff Joe Arpaio. The conservative Washington Examiner broke ranks with Trump on the pardon, since Arpaio had defied a court order against stopping and questioning Latinos, saying the self-described “law and order” president was really about “busting heads.”
Even as rescuers were struggling to reach residents trapped on rooftops, MSNBC devoted much of its prime time to Russia, consumed by stories breaking in the Washington Post and New York Times. They disclosed that Trump’s personal lawyer, Michael Cohen, had written to Vladimir Putin’s spokesman during the campaign to try to revive a stalled proposal to build a Trump Tower in Moscow. And the Times obtained a bragging email from a Russian-American businessman and Trump associate named Felix Sater, telling Cohen: “Our boy can become president of the USA and we can engineer it. I will get all of Putins [sic] team to buy in on this.”
While it hardly looked good for Trump’s company to be pursuing a Russia deal while the candidate was speaking positively about Putin, the stories actually underscored the lack of collusion with Russia. Cohen didn’t know who to contact, so he e-mailed the general address for Putin’s press office. He got no response and the proposal died—hardly evidence of the candidate being well wired with the Kremlin.
By then, news outlets had settled on a new narrative, portraying Trump as increasingly isolated and unable to control his own top deputies. When Gary Cohn, after Charlottesville, said the administration “must do better in consistently and unequivocally condemning” hate groups, the Washington Post reported that Trump was “furious.” After Secretary of State Rex Tillerson said on Fox News Sunday that “the president speaks for himself” on American values, Axios reported that Trump was “fed up” with Tillerson. Steve Bannon, who remained in touch with Trump—and attacked his former rivals in a 60 Minutes interview—thought Tillerson should have been instantly fired for insubordination.
According to leaked reports in the press, President Trump was chafing at General Kelly’s restrictions. He missed having his friends saunter into the Oval Office, and he was binge-watching Fox News. He was also reported to have made his displeasure known to his new chief of staff. The New York Times said Kelly had told colleagues that no one had ever dressed him down the way Trump had, and that “he would not abide such treatment” again.
Reince Priebus was bemused by the flood of stories about Kelly’s strict “process.” Priebus had the same procedures, the same rules to restrict access to the Oval Office, but Trump did whatever he wanted. “If you were still in the White House the last three months,” Bannon told him, “the press would be saying you’re the worst chief of staff ever.”
Another former staffer, Corey Lewandowski, had formed a new advocacy firm. He had quit his previous company after unauthorized appeals were sent out that used his name to seemingly offer overseas clients access to Trump. The New York Times Magazine slapped Corey on its cover, accusing him of becoming a hypocritical Washington swamp creature. But Lewandowski, a surrogate for a pro-Trump PAC, did less than legions of Beltway lobbyists. He insisted he had never asked Trump for anything. “People want to see me fail,” he said.
For all their periods of hostility, the media were never more passionately united against Trump than over his decision to end the Dreamers program for the children of ille
gal immigrants—even with a six-month delay to give Congress time to authorize the program in the face of court challenges. One news outlet after another stoked public sympathy by playing up the plight of individual Dreamers, especially those in their twenties or thirties with stellar jobs and others who aided in the Houston flood rescues. Journalists were tapping into broad public support for the nearly eight hundred thousand people brought to America illegally before they were eighteen.
White House leakers painted the president, who had let Jeff Sessions make the announcement, as looking for “a way out,” as one unnamed official told the New York Times. He was determined to enforce American immigration law, but did not want to seem callous or cruel.
What was missed or minimized by much of the media was that Barack Obama, during the 2012 campaign, unilaterally shielded the Dreamers from deportation through an executive order, which he always said was a temporary measure. Trump wanted Congress to come up with an actual law, since Congress had never passed the DREAM Act and Obama’s policy of “Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals” had long been derided by Republicans as an abuse of executive power.
Nevertheless, Trump was denounced as cold and uncaring across the media and entertainment landscape. Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg called the move “particularly cruel.” “You are garbage,” said Sarah Silverman. And Rob Reiner opined that “Donald J. Trump is a heartless prick.”
The president responded to the harsh reaction by softening his tone. He told reporters he had “a love for these people” and that “hopefully” Congress will help them. Rupert Murdoch, who was friendly with Jared and Ivanka—both of whom wanted to preserve the program—suggested that Trump tweet something sympathetic about the Dreamers. The president reassured them on Twitter that “you have nothing to worry about.”
A day later, the Beltway press was stunned when Trump cut a budget deal with the Democrats, siding with Chuck Schumer and Nancy Pelosi over Mitch McConnell and Paul Ryan. The agreement—tying a three-month extension of the debt ceiling to immediate hurricane aid—was mainly tactical. But Trump, keeping an eye on TV, raved about the “incredible” coverage of the compromise, telling Schumer that Fox News was praising the senator and the other cable networks were praising him. For the president, the details were less important than the pundits finally giving him a win.
Rather than crediting the president with a moment of bipartisanship—and the media usually worship bipartisanship—many news outlets reveled in the way Trump blindsided Republican congressional leaders. “Trump’s Deal Is a Nightmare Come True for the GOP,” a New York Times headline said. The Washington Post said the president had “burned” his ostensible allies, that “some” would call the move “untrustworthy,” and that “he is ultimately loyal to no one but himself.”
Fox’s coverage was generally positive. “Isn’t it refreshing to see them work together?” Ainsley Earhardt said on Fox & Friends. But others on the right were appalled.
“Trump tosses Republicans and conservatives under the bus,” said Bill Kristol, who had openly denounced Trump during the campaign and had briefly tried to run a third-party candidate against him.
Bannon’s Breitbart dissed the Democratic deal with a “Meet the Swamp” headline, saying it “Jacks Up Debt, Punts Agenda, Snubs GOP.”
That was merely a dress rehearsal for Trump’s next move, which was striking a tentative deal with “Chuck and Nancy” to legalize the Dreamers program in exchange for tougher border control, though funding for a border wall was notably absent. Breitbart went ballistic. “AMNESTY DON,” blared a red-letter headline.
Some of Trump’s strongest media supporters on the right felt betrayed. Laura Ingraham mocked his campaign chant: “‘BUILD THE WALL! BUILD THE WALL!’…or…maybe…not really.”
“At this point,” Ann Coulter tweeted, “who DOESN’T want Trump impeached?”
Radio titan Rush Limbaugh expressed shock: “Is he this tone deaf? Is he this ignorant? Does he not know what got him elected?”
The mainstream media loved the compromise—there was barely a mention that Trump had reversed a campaign promise—because it boosted the Democrats and could potentially save the Dreamers. The media also touted it as evidence that Trump was a lousy negotiator, forced to cave to the Democrats because of his strained relations with his top leaders, Ryan and McConnell.
What the media could have said was that Trump, who never campaigned as an orthodox Republican, was leveraging both parties to make some progress after the GOP had failed to deliver much of anything. But many pundits were too busy relishing the spectacle of him antagonizing his own party.
Politics in the Trump age had become a blood sport. And perhaps it was inevitable that even sports commentators felt the need to attack the president.
Jemele Hill, the co-host of ESPN’s SportsCenter, unleashed a Twitter rant against Trump, calling him a “white supremacist,” a “bigot,” “unfit,” and “the most ignorant, offensive president of my lifetime.” The network, which had protested his candidacy by canceling a celebrity tournament at Trump’s California golf club, punted with a wimpy statement that her actions were merely “inappropriate.” And the African American analyst refused to apologize, saying only that she regretted casting ESPN in an unfair light.
Despite the racially incendiary nature of the attacks, the New York Times and Washington Post initially ignored the story, as did CNN and MSNBC and much of the media. It was not until a Post reporter raised it at a White House briefing, and Sarah Huckabee Sanders said the “outrageous” comments were a “fireable offense,” that the press jumped on Hill’s attack—and to her defense.
The Huffington Post practically endorsed the slander: “WHITE HOUSE GOES AFTER ESPN HOST!” after she “GOT REAL ABOUT TRUMP.”
As the controversy mushroomed, Trump tweeted that ESPN, with its political bent and bad programming, should “apologize for untruth!” Yet many journalists managed to put the onus on the White House.
“Does that mean that he’s willing to apologize” for his “birtherism claims?” one reporter asked Sanders.
Another asked: “Did it give you any pause to make those comments about a private company from the podium here at the White House?” Sanders said she was talking about an individual, and about ESPN’s hypocrisy in firing or suspending conservatives for controversial comments.
It had come to this: a major sports anchor had called Trump a white supremacist, her network refused to throw a penalty flag, and reporters reserved their ire for the Trump team.
But the president wasn’t done with the sports world. Hours after John McCain announced he would vote against a revised health care bill that would turn Obamacare over to the states, Trump gave the National Football League a swift kick in the pants.
At an Alabama rally on Friday, September 22, he rebuked football players who refused to stand for the national anthem. The most prominent had been Colin Kaepernick, an out-of-work quarterback who said he was protesting racial injustice.
Trump told the cheering crowd: “Wouldn’t you love to see one of these NFL owners, when somebody disrespects our flag, to say, ‘Get that son of a bitch off the field right now. He is fired. Fired!’” He ratcheted up the attack in a series of tweets, suggesting that fans boycott teams that refused to punish the protestors.
As he ignited one media firestorm over the NFL, Trump tried to slam-dunk the NBA champion Golden State Warriors as well. When superstar Stephen Curry expressed doubts about his team’s ritual appearance at the White House, Trump abruptly disinvited him—and the Warriors voted to scrap the visit.
Trump had thrown himself into a new culture war featuring politics, patriotism, sports, and race. Much of the press felt he was dismissing the right to call attention to injustice and police brutality. The Huffington Post went all in: “Trump’s Racial Crusade Against the Black Athlete.” CNN’s Chris Cillizza said he was “playing with racial animus.” Trump insisted to reporters that it “had nothing to do with race.”
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But the president was picking on players with their own massive media platforms. LeBron James, Curry’s NBA rival, actually called Trump “u bum” in a tweet that drew more than a million likes—and posted an accompanying video.
There was pushback from anti-Trump conservatives too, and mockery in late night comedy. National Review called Trump’s assault “unseemly”; Seth Meyers announced that “our president is an asshole.” NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell made headlines for scolding Trump. Even the president’s pal Tom Brady, the New England Patriots quarterback, called his remarks “just divisive.” On Sunday dozens of players, in solidarity, refused to stand for the anthem, with three teams staying in the locker room. Stevie Wonder and other celebrities made a similar gesture. “Taking a knee” became instant shorthand for protesting Trump.
Cable news, with its bipolar model, savored the great debate: whose side are you on, the patriots or the protestors? It was the lead story on show after show, day after day. On Anderson Cooper 360°, the host began with “a very full program tonight, including new reporting from Puerto Rico where the human need is so great in scope and so urgent.…We begin, though, tonight ‘Keeping Them Honest,’ with the president’s latest take on the wave of protests sweeping the NFL.” He soon aired a prime-time special on the football flap.
When a Reuters reporter asked Trump whether he was “preoccupied” with the NFL at the expense of Puerto Rico, the president said he wasn’t, he was just “ashamed” of the league. The media accused Trump of being fixated on the issue, but they were the ones who couldn’t let it go; it was too perfectly formulated for their theme that Trump had divided America—even over football.