At trial, Trump’s lawyers echoing client
Take absolutist approach to first criminal case
NEW YORK — Donald Trump is a thrice-married man accused of covering up a sex scandal with an adult film actor after the world heard him brag about grabbing women by their genitals.
But when Trump’s lawyers introduced him to a jury at his Manhattan criminal trial this past week, they dwelt on a different dimension: “He’s a husband. He’s a father. And he’s a person, just like you and just like me.”
That half-hour opening statement encapsulated the former president’s influence over his lawyers and their strategy. It reflected specific input from Trump, people with knowledge of the matter said, and it echoed his absolutist approach to his first criminal trial.
And while defendants often offer feedback to their lawyers, this particular hands-on client could hamstring them.
Others might concede personal failings so their lawyers can focus solely on holes in the prosecution’s evidence; on television, it’s often a version of, “My client might not be a nice guy, but he’s no criminal.”
But that time-honored tactic is not available to a defendant who is also the presumptive Republican presidential nominee, a man who despises weakness and is allergic to anything but praise from the people around him. So Trump’s legal strategy mirrors his political talking points as his lawyers portray the case as an unjust assault on the former president’s character.
Since he was indicted in Manhattan, Trump has questioned the very notion that anything untoward occurred, deploying a mantra “no crime.” His lead lawyer, Todd Blanche, followed that blueprint in his opening statement, asking jurors, “What on earth is a crime?” and sprinkling in other Trumpesque phrases, including that the former president had “built a very large, successful company.”
People in Trump’s legal orbit have privately observed that the effort to humanize him might be a tough sell to a jury in New York, his hometown, where his presidency was wildly unpopular and his sexual dalliances were gossip-page staples.
But as the trial grinds on in the weeks ahead, legal experts said, the defense team will need to walk a fine line to appease both of its audiences: 12 jurors and a singular defendant.
“Trying the case to your client’s vanity, rather than to the jury, is a losing game,” said J. Bruce Maffeo, a former federal prosecutor.
Despite their client’s whims and wishes, Trump’s lawyers have deployed some conventional tactics to poke holes in the prosecution’s core accusation: that he falsified records to conceal a hush-money payment to the adult film actor, Stormy Daniels. And the lawyers, known as skilled litigators, some former prosecutors themselves, appear to have scored points.
Blanche, the lawyer who delivered the opening statement, urged the jury to “use common sense,” arguing that Trump is accused of falsifying the sort of back-office paperwork that a president would never bother touching. He also noted that the prosecution’s star witness is a felon and an “admitted liar.” And Blanche’s colleague, Emil Bove, grilled the prosecution’s first witness Friday, pointing out a potential inconsistency in his story.
Such traditional techniques can be effective without undercutting Trump’s self-image. Roland Riopelle, a former prosecutor, who spent three decades as a defense lawyer, noted that “part of being a lawyer and being in a service business is pleasing the client — and I’m sure this client is difficult to please.”
Trump is known to be mercurial and prone to outbursts. In private, he has dressed down lawyers in several of his cases, even questioning their strategy just minutes before they were set to appear in court, people who have seen him in action say.
And inside the courtroom at two recent civil trials, he badgered lawyers, directing them to object at inopportune moments, muttering grievances into their ears and twice storming away from the defense table.
Those cases ended in defeat. Judges have said that the former president’s courtroom conduct — and refusal to accept any responsibility — only hurt him.
Inside the criminal courthouse, Trump has been better behaved and more subdued, save for one episode during jury selection that drew a rebuke from the judge. Blanche also appears to be resisting some of his client’s interjections; when Trump poked Blanche on the shoulder at the defense table, he shook his head and brushed off the former president.
The pestering is unsurprising from a man who values control and is unaccustomed to sitting still. And Trump, whose litigious streak has thrust him in and out of many courtrooms, knows more about legal proceedings than the average defendant.
But he is hardly a master of procedure, and this case presents a unique test: After years of filing and fighting lawsuits, it is his first criminal trial.
This past week, prosecutors elicited testimony from the former publisher of The National Enquirer, David Pecker, who said he and Trump orchestrated a plot to conceal sex scandals that could have derailed his 2016 presidential campaign.
On cross-examination, Bove implied the prosecution’s case strained credulity and suggested that the former publisher, rather than doing anything so grand as conspiring with a presidential candidate, was engaged in business as usual: paying sources and making coverage decisions that benefited his magazines.
Blanche’s opening statement took aim at Michael Cohen, the star prosecution witness who paid Daniels the hush money, silencing her story of a sexual encounter with Trump. Cohen is expected to testify that he acted at Trump’s direction to avoid damaging his campaign. And when Trump reimbursed him for the $130,000 hush-money payment, Cohen will likely say, the former president authorized his company to falsify internal records to disguise the true nature of the repayment.
Blanche assailed Cohen’s credibility in the opening, noting the former fixer had pleaded guilty to federal crimes, including for his role in the hush-money payment. He described Cohen as an “obsessed” former employee seeking revenge, arguing that it was he, not Trump, who was responsible for the records.
‘Trying the case to your client’s vanity, rather than to the jury, is a losing game.’ J. BRUCE MAFFEO, former federal prosecutor