INDICTMENT UNVEILS DISPLAY OF TRUMP NARCISSISM
WASHINGTON — The now-unsealed indictment in the case of United States of America v. Donald J. Trump and Waltine Nauta has it all, seemingly every Trump flaw condensed into 49 pages and 38 counts of squalid detail. It is a devastating legal document, but it is also a damning character study of a man whose faults are all too familiar yet retain the power to shock and appall.
In the neutered language of lawyers and their numbered paragraphs, 96 in all, the indictment details the relentless selfishness of Trump’s conduct. The former and would-be future president, in prosecutors’ telling, lied to his own lawyers, pushed them to hide evidence on his behalf, then stood by as they submitted a blatantly false affidavit to federal authorities — all while proclaiming himself an “open book.”
He hammered his 2016 opponent, Hillary Clinton, for mishandling classified information, then behaved in a far more egregious manner. The indictment doesn’t mention Clinton by name, but prosecutors took pains to lay out numerous Trump campaign statements criticizing her — and hammering home the importance of safeguarding classified information.
“We can’t have someone in the Oval Office who doesn’t understand the meaning of the word confidential or classified,” Trump insisted as Election Day 2016 approached. “One of the first things we must do is to enforce all classification rules and to enforce all laws relating to the handling of classified information.”
So said the man who, according to the indictment, dramatically brandished classified documents for guests at his Bedminster, N.J., country club, guests notably lacking security clearances.
Prosecutors use the term “speaking indictment” to describe a charging document that narrates a story of criminal conduct. This indictment all but shouts: This man is a danger to the country. He is a liar. He is a hypocrite. He is a crook. It does not say, but I will: He should never again be allowed anywhere near the levers of power.
Missing from the indictment — unnecessary as a matter of law, unavoidable as an element of human psychology — is the question of motive: Why did Trump do this? Why his zeal, his mania, to retain these particular documents when government officials came calling for them? Why persist when a subpoena underscored that the government meant business?
Part of the explanation might be that of Trump as the eternal toddler: He wants what he wants. The papers are his toys, and he will not give them back.
These toys impress — and Trump’s pathetic need to puff himself up cannot be underestimated. Thus, meeting with an unnamed “representative” of his PAC at Bedminster, Trump brandished a classified map of “Country B” and told the person “that he should not be showing the map to the PAC Representative and not to get too close.” If that’s evidence for prosecutors that Trump knew he wasn’t supposed to treat classified material so cavalierly, it’s a reminder to the rest of us about Trump’s compulsion to display his importance.
To read the indictment is to drown again in Trump’s narcissism: Others exist only to serve his needs and sacrifice themselves to the greater good of Trump.
And then there are the moments of pure deliciousness, the awkward glimpses behind the scenes in Trumpworld. The indictment quotes a Trump family member — I’m guessing his wife, Melania — texting Nauta, the former president’s personal aide, just ahead of a flight out of town. “I saw you put boxes to Potus room,” the text states. “Just FYI and I will tell him as well: Not sure how many he wants to take on Friday on the plane. We will NOT have a room for them. Plane will be full with luggage.” Forget your boxes. I need that cargo space for my couture.
Announcing the indictment Friday, special counsel Jack Smith said: “I invite everyone to read it in full to understand the scope and the gravity of the crimes charged.” Please do. It is a document that should never have had to be written about an American president. Trump’s own conduct made it unavoidable.