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investigation; the assertion (from Kushner) that the FBI itself had turned against Comey;
and, the president’s key obsession, the fact that Comey wouldn’t publicly acknowledge
that the president wasn’t under investigation—that would form the Trump family’s case
for firing Comey. That is, everything but the fact that Comey’s FBI was investigating the
president.
The Kushner side, for its part, bitterly fought back against any characterization of
Kushner as the prime mover or mastermind, in effect putting the entire Bedminster letter
effort—as well as the determination to get rid of Comey—entirely on the president’s head
and casting Kushner as passive bystander. (The Kushner side’s position was articulated as
follows: “Did he [Kushner] support the decision? Yes. Was he told this was happening?
Yes. Did he encourage it? No. Was he fighting for it [Comey’s ouster] for weeks and
months? No. Did he fight [the ouster]? No. Did he say it would go badly? No.”)
Horrified, McGahn quashed sending it. Nevertheless, it was passed to Sessions and
Rosenstein, who quickly began drafting their own version of what Kushner and the
president obviously wanted.
“I knew when he got back he might blow at any moment,” said Bannon after the
president returned from his Bedminster weekend.
1 OK Ok
On Monday morning, May 8, in a meeting in the Oval Office, the president told Priebus
and Bannon that he had made his decision: he would fire Director Comey. Both men again
made heated pleas against the move, arguing for, at the very least, more discussion. Here
was a key technique for managing the president: delay. Rolling something forward likely
meant that something else—an equal or greater fiasco—would come along to preempt
whatever fiasco was currently at hand. What’s more, delay worked advantageously with
Trump’s attention span; whatever the issue of the moment, he would shortly be on to
something else. When the meeting ended, Priebus and Bannon thought they had bought
some breathing room.
Later that day, Sally Yates and former director of National Intelligence James Clapper
appeared before the Senate Judiciary Committee’s Crime and Terrorism subcommittee—
and were greeted by a series of furious tweets from the president.
Here was, Bannon saw again, the essential Trump problem. He hopelessly personalized
everything. He saw the world in commercial and show business terms: someone else was
always trying to one-up you, someone else was always trying to take the limelight. The
battle was between you and someone else who wanted what you had. For Bannon,
reducing the political world to face-offs and spats belittled the place in history Trump and
his administration had achieved. But it also belied the real powers they were up against.
Not people—institutions.
To Trump, he was just up against Sally Yates, who was, he steamed, “such a cunt.”
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