Fear: Trump in the White House

“And Mr. President, what I recommend is we just make all that public. We politely tell Bob you’re not going to sit for an interview, for the obvious reasons and for the constitutional reasons, and you’re protecting the office for your successors. If you testify, then we’re going to go through decades of gotcha and let’s get the president under oath. It’s just the new game. Particularly when there’s no crime and no basis, you know?”

The investigations of Reagan in Iran-contra, Clinton in Whitewater-Lewinsky and Nixon in Watergate all involved criminal activity, he said. “And by the way, if there was criminal activity where your White House could help out, I have no doubt you would respond. And that you would—if someone asked you about someone on your staff that had misbehaved and you witnessed something, you’d be a good witness. You’d testify. But that’s not the case here. This is a case where all of the questions have been answered.

“Mr. President, you’re just cutting my legs off. I’m trying to be a good lawyer.”

“You’re a good lawyer,” Trump said. “You’re a great lawyer.”

“Mr. President, I cannot, as a lawyer, as an officer of the court, sit next to you and have you answer these questions when I full well know that you’re not really capable.”

Dowd wanted to dress it up as much as possible, to say, it’s not your fault. It’s the burden of the office. He knew in this confrontation he could not be insulting. He could not say what he knew was true: “You’re a fucking liar.” That was the problem.

So Dowd said, “You do have trouble staying on the subject. And that can defeat you. Then you try to catch yourself, and you misstate something, and bam. It’s like Mike Flynn not remembering the conversation with Kislyak.”

Once more on Air Force One, Trump called his lawyer.

“Are you happy?” the president asked.

“No,” Dowd said. “I’m not happy, Mr. President. This is a goddamn heartbreak. I feel like I failed. I’ve failed as your lawyer. I’ve been unable to persuade you to take my advice. I’m no different than a doctor. I know what ails you. I know what your difficulty is. I’ve given a prescription that I know will keep you out of harm’s way. Remember the first rule, Mr. President, is do no harm. That’s where we are. And if I go and sit with you and let you do something that I think is bad for you and will get you in further trouble, then I ought to lose my license. Maybe there are lawyers that just sort of blink at all that.”

“I know that. John, I know you’re frustrated.”

“I am. I don’t mind telling you, I regret the day I ever recommended Ty Cobb. And I can’t believe that he undermined me.”

“Well,” Trump said, “I asked him” to speak out and show the president was not afraid to testify.

“He should have declined. He’s a government employee. And by the way, they can call him as a witness. He has no privilege with you.”

“Jesus,” Trump said, sounding worried, “I’ve talked a lot with him.”

“I wish I could persuade you,” Dowd said. “Don’t testify. It’s either that or an orange jump suit. If it’s decision time, you’re going to go forward, I can’t be with you.”

“You’re walking away,” Trump said. “How can you quit on me?”

It was a matter of principle, Dowd said, and the lawyer’s obligation to try to protect his client.

“I wish you’d stay. You’re a great lawyer.”

Dowd knew it was bullshit. But that was one of the Trump paradoxes. They could have a hell of an argument, but when they were done, on the phone or in person, Trump would say, thank you. I appreciate everything you’re doing.

In a lifetime of law, Dowd maybe had only five clients who had so graciously expressed their thanks.

Sekulow and Cobb called Dowd to complain that the president was not responding to them, blowing them off. They needed Dowd to call the president.

“Mr. President,” Dowd said in a call on the night of March 21 around 10 p.m.

“Hi, John,” the president said. He was very nice. Calm.

“Mr. President,” Dowd said, “I’m sorry to bother you. But Ty and Jay have called me.” They wanted him to address the question about testifying.

Trump said he had decided to testify. He could handle Mueller. “John, that’s just where I am. Sorry you don’t agree.”

“Well, it’s not my job to agree. It’s my job to look after you. And if you start taking your own advice, you get in trouble. Mr. President, I don’t take my own advice.”

“You have lawyers?”

“Absolutely. All the crap I’ve been through? Of course I have lawyers.”

“John, that’s where I’m at,” Trump repeated. “I think the president of the United States cannot be seen taking the Fifth.”

“Mr. President, we can make a far better presentation than that. By the way, I would add something. I think we ought to brief the key leaders on the Hill first, before we go public.” Take all the testimony and documents, and make the case to them before getting involved in a court battle. “Tell them why we’re not testifying. If we show them all this stuff . . .”