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The FRONTLINE Interviews

Ken Auletta

The New Yorker

Ken Auletta is a journalist and media critic for The New Yorker

The following interview was conducted by FRONTLINE’s Michael Kirk on June 15, 2020. It has been edited for clarity and length.

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Fred Trump and Donald’s Early Years

Back in the day, probably way back in the day, do you remember Fred Trump?Do you remember ever hearing about him?Did you know anything about Fred Trump?
Well, you know, my parents lived in Trump Village in Coney Island, which was a housing project that Trump owned.And Trump would—Fred Trump would go to lunch at Gargiulo’s restaurant on West 16th Street in Coney Island—actually, West 15th Street in Coney Island.My father had a little sporting goods store on Stillwell Avenue, around the corner from that.And my father would walk around the corner to have lunch sometimes, and he would see Fred Trump.He was a little pisher tenant in this conglomerate, and he would say, “Hello, Mr. Trump,” and he would say, “Mr. Auletta,” or Pat, whatever—his name was Pat Auletta.And my father would go sit with the family and have a quick lunch and then go back to the sporting goods store.
But Donald Trump would sometimes come down and have lunch with his father.And Donald Trump—his father was a very tall, imposing man, and you had the sense that Donald Trump was afraid of his father, and certainly was in awe of him.And I was then writing a column for the <i>Daily News</i>, as well as writing for <i>The New Yorker</i>, but <i>The New Yorker</i> in Coney Island doesn’t matter.The <i>Daily News</i>—your picture’s in the <i>Daily News</i>, the columnist’s.That’s a big deal in working-class Coney Island.And I would sometimes come and have lunch with my dad, and Donald Trump would sometimes, a couple times, see him having lunch with his dad there.
And I had actually written about Donald Trump a couple of times in the <i>Daily News</i>, and not complimentary.And at that point in time, Donald Trump, unlike Donald Trump today, was always reaching out to you.Even if you insulted him or said something or wrote something he didn’t like, he would try and win your favor:“Let’s have lunch sometime” and stuff.And I have a perfect record of never having had that lunch.
But what happened was, I’m a New York Knickerbocker basketball fan, and I would go to Knick games.And maybe once a year I would see Donald Trump at a Knick game, and he’d come up to me, and he’d say, “Hey, Kenny.”I don’t know anyone who calls me Kenny.He says, “Hey, Kenny, how’s your pop?”And I said, “He died.”“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, Kenny.”The next year at a Knick game, Donald Trump comes up to me again. He said, “Hey, Kenny, how’s your pop?”I said, “He died.”He did it three years in a row.And the third time he did it, he said, “Hey, Kenny, how’s your pop?”I said, “The same,” and I walked away.
But it was just for me an illustration of his narcissism.He didn’t really listen; he was just doing it to the effect of his question on you, that he would seem to be sincere and caring and empathetic. …
We’ve heard so many stories about how his dad said: “You’re a killer.You’re going to grow up.There’s winners; there’s losers.You’ve got to be a killer.”Could you imagine that?
Well, actually I could, because I had an experience with Donald Trump in 1978.I was commissioned by <i>Esquire</i> magazine to write a profile of Roy Cohn, the late Roy Cohn, the lawyer.And in the course of reporting that story, I spent a lot of time with Cohn, who initially said he wouldn’t cooperate.And then I told his law partner, who I knew, I said, “Tell Mr. Cohn if he’s not going to cooperate, he doesn’t want me just to talk to his enemies, does he?”And of course, within five minutes, Roy Cohn called, and I had access to him.
So in the course of reporting this story, I found out that Donald Trump, this young, aspiring real estate guy who had just moved to New York, to Manhattan—I mean, he’d always been based in Brooklyn and Queens; that’s where the family fortune was made.And suddenly he was going to expand into Manhattan.And he did; he bought the Commodore Hotel, turned it into the Hyatt Hotel, and then Trump Tower, etc.
So I found out that Donald Trump, his lawyer was Roy Cohn.So I interviewed Donald Trump for this profile on Roy Cohn, and Trump told me the story of how he came to know Cohn.He met him at this—Donald was dating and hanging out with a lot of models and the fast crowd in New York at various clubs.And he’s a good-looking guy, and he really kind of loved that world.Roy was a guy who was around town, and everyone—socialites mobbed him and hugged him and brought him into their circle hoping that he’d represent them in divorce and help them kill their husband one day, which is what he proudly did.
And so he’s sitting next to Roy Cohn, and Roy Cohn—[Trump] says, “Let me ask you a question, Mr. Cohn.”He said: “I have this terrible problem.We’re accused—the Trump Organization is accused of racial discrimination, that we’re not bringing—we don’t allow Black tenants in our buildings.And the federal government is suing us under the Civil Rights Act.What should we do?”And Cohn, without—which was typical of him—without reading any documents, without doing any due diligence, announced: “Fight it.You’ll kill them.Just deny everything and fight.”And Trump was totally taken by that, and he hired Roy Cohn as his lawyer.And Roy Cohn basically challenged the federal government.All the other lawyers had told, advised Trump, “Settle; get out of this, Donald.”Cohn did the opposite; he said, “Fight them,” and he fought them.
Eventually, he lost in the sense that he was forced to allow Blacks to enter.But Trump paraded it as a victory because he never had to admit he was guilty; the Trump Organization didn’t have to admit.And that was typical of Roy Cohn.What he learned from Roy Cohn, then and subsequently, because Cohn became his lawyer, was never apologize; always attack.Attack the character of your opponents, that they’re somehow malicious, that they’re somehow doing the devil’s deed here, and let the public know that.
And that was typical—that has become typical of President Trump today.That was Roy Cohn. …And I asked—I asked Donald Trump when I interviewed him then, back in ’78 for this profile, I said, “So who’s your mentor?”He said, “Roy Cohn’s my mentor.”And he basically looked up, idolized Roy Cohn, because Roy Cohn taught him, or helped convince him, challenge everything and never surrender, Never apologize; always attack. …

Trump and 1970s New York

When he decides to become an immigrant from Brooklyn and Queens to Manhattan, what’s Manhattan in those days, Ken? …
You have to go back to the early ’70s, before the fiscal crisis of ’76–’77.And in those early ’70 years, New York was a magnet for people, as it is—has been today before the coronavirus, a magnet for beautiful people, for hanging out at clubs and exclusive places.And if you’re a young bachelor, as Donald Trump was, and a good-looking one as well, you know, and you had the affect of being wealthy, you’re a very popular guy.And the models and the young actresses, etc., you know, crawled up to him.And he loved it.
And so he would go there, and suddenly this Queens boy is now a swinger.And I think he probably loved that.And then—then you go to the fiscal crisis.New York City suddenly comes apart.
What was happening in New York, in that period of time, New York City lost 600,000 jobs.But it was submerged.People didn’t really know it.And at that period of time, people were leaving the city and moving out to the suburbs, particularly white working-class and middle-class people who suddenly, “Thank God, we can get a home with a backyard and grass and the American”—that’s the American dream for them.
So the city for the first time was losing population as well as jobs, and losing its economic base.So that all came to a head in ’75–’76 with the New York City fiscal crisis, where New York was on the brink of bankruptcy.And they were bailed out by the—by a consortium of labor and bankers and the business community and the federal government, and particularly by the state government.
But what Donald Trump did, his father, Fred, was very active in the Madison Democratic Club in Brooklyn.The Madison Democratic Club was the most powerful club in Brooklyn.The speaker of the assembly, Stanley Steingut, was a member.The DA, Gene Gold, was a member in Brooklyn.And it became—Milt Mollen was a member, a very important potentate in Brooklyn politics.
And what happened was that Donald Trump said to his dad, “We really should be moving into Manhattan; it’s a growing place.”And—but by ’75–’76, the economy was shrinking.It was the Commodore Hotel on East 42nd Street, now the Hyatt, but then called the Commodore Hotel, a large hotel over Grand Central Station.And it was for sale.And it was going to go under.And Donald Trump proposed—talked to his father: “We should buy it.”But the taxes, his father said, and Donald knew, were too high.
So what happened?Fred Trump turns to Stanley Steingut and the powers of the Madison Democratic Club—by the way, who was a former member of the Madison Democratic Club?The mayor of New York, Abraham Beame.“Abe Beame, you’ve got to help us out.”So what happened?The mayor of New York worked out a tax abatement to save the Trumps hundreds of millions of dollars if they would buy the Commodore Hotel.And they did.
And that was the first move of the Trump Organization into Manhattan, the Commodore Hotel.
So somebody who says he hates government and it’s in a deep state, in his first big deal relies on the government for a handout, right?
Oh, the government—the government was a big handout to Donald Trump, no question.

Trump’s Early Political Moves

… One of the things we’re trying to do and you could help us do is, when does he start to put his toe in the water about the presidency?When do you first hear rumblings?I know there’s the moment where [Roger] Stone takes him up to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and they fly in on the Trump helicopter; that’s in ’87.Anytime before that or around that time where you get the sense, hey, this guy, he’s got bigger ideas than just the New York skyline?
You see—but I—you know, one of the reasons I have a hard time precisely answering your question, I never believed it.To me, that was all part of the Trump hype.The thought that Donald Trump was going to run for president—there was one point when he was talking about running for governor; he didn’t do that either.So my attitude, and I don’t think I’m alone in this attitude, was that this was typical Donald Trump.It was just hype.It was just, you know, bloviate.I mean, put out a story, get a little press attention one day, and then move on.
But I never thought, oh, my God, I have to really do some gumshoe reporting on, is Donald Trump really going to run?I’ve talked to his people.I never felt that way, not once!

Trump and the Central Park Five

How about after he took out that full-page ad about the Central Park Five in 1989?That feels like an overt political act to me.
Well, it may be that he had larger ambitions to take out that ad.But the ad—actually the reaction I had, and I think a lot of citizens had, not just journalists, that was outrageous.I mean, here’s a guy calling for the death penalty, calling, “these people should be put to death,” these relatively young men, who were later exonerated for committing the crime to that particular rape of the woman.They were found guilty of some other things they did; they did some wilding in the park that night.But for me, and I think for many others, it was just an example of, God, that’s demagoguery.That’s so irresponsible to claim: a) we haven’t proven this; b) that these people should be put to death?And at a time when race relations were tender, it just exacerbated it.
Now we’re viewing some of the same things today, this lack of sensitivity to the impact of his words.And his words, the impact was really bad then.
Why do you think he did it, Ken?
I mean, one part—reason he did it is that it got him attention.And I think that’s a disease he had then, and still has.He loves attention because he’s a narcissist.A second reason he did it, he may believe it.
A third reason is, I think this really goes to who Donald Trump is.I think Donald Trump’s a cynic.I think he’s a guy who—who knew he was—they were not telling the truth about housing policy in the Trump Organization, that they deliberately excluded Blacks.I think Donald Trump is a cynic in his belief that government never works; therefore, it’s a deep state.I think he’s a cynic about the motivations of other people, which is why he always sues people and why he doesn’t have staff loyalty that continues.
He’s mistrustful; he’s cynical.And I think that is a melody that runs throughout his adult life, right up to now.And I think when you look at how Donald Trump responds to things, those young men?“Bad people.”Again, the cynical interpretation, you know?Deep state, FBI, whatever, intelligence agencies, “bad people.”
And there is, interestingly enough, for a guy who’s had some success, there’s a paranoia there, a belief that people are out to get him.Now, that probably comes from his narcissism.Everything is self-centered, so if there’s any criticism, “They’re out to get me; they have some motive to do that,” and “I’m not going to look at what they’re saying; I’m going to look at their motive, and their motive is bad”; i.e., the cynicism comes into play again.

Trump and Racial Discord

There’s another “ism” word, called racism. ...There seems to be a long line of, as you say, going back to the housing issue, the “C” [“colored”] on the thing and Black people not getting houses or separate houses, this incident of the Central Park Five, all the way up through birtherism and things that would actually bring him to the White House, to the moment where we are now.How much is racism and the racial climate in New York part of the formative Donald Trump view on all things this way?
I mean, it’s hard to avoid the conclusion.This is a man who lived a very sequestered life.He grew up in Queens, but Douglaston, Queens, where he grew up, is an upscale community, divorced from the population of the city of New York, the mixed population of the city of New York.You live in Trump Tower, you’re up there 50-some-odd stories.A limousine—you live there; you work there.You know, when you come downstairs you come out the side door and a limousine awaits you.You’re not really mingling with real people.You’re living in kind of an odd existence, a very elite existence.So Donald Trump, even though he grew up in New York, didn’t grow up among a Black and minority population, or different types of people.
Now, today you watch him, and who are the people he most relates to?It’s people in the red state, people who he sees as angry, the way he is, and disdaining the deep state, disdaining government—cynics, often for very good reasons.These are people who feel they’ve been screwed in some way.And Donald Trump relates to them, and they relate to him.And you know, it’s just—but they’re not—they tend to be white, farmers, working class, people who are alienated the way he is alienated.Very interesting.
You know, it’s interesting.When I think—what it triggers in my mind is I said—as I use the word alienate, is that in the real estate community, which Donald Trump was a member of that community, he was much despised in New York.People did not think of him as someone, as a colleague, as someone they related to.And two examples of that.
One is, in the philanthropic world, wealthy world, someone once said to me—I sat next to, at some journalism event, I was sitting next to this woman, Mollie Parnis.I mean, she’s now dead; I can tell the story.And she had sponsored a journalism award for her son who died, one of the early deaths from AIDS.And it’s called the Livingston Award, which was his father’s—her husband’s name.And she said to me, “I don’t like Donald Trump.”And I said, “Why?”And this is—this is long before he’s president.This is probably 30 years ago.And she said, “Well, he doesn’t give.”I said, “What do you mean by that?”
She said, “You know, in our society, in the upper-crust society of New York, we’re philanthropic.If we—if someone—if a friend writes us, if someone we know asks us would we buy a table to this benefit dinner, we buy a table.And then when we have a benefit dinner we’re doing, we send them and expect them that they’ll buy a table as well.Well, Donald Trump would send me requests for something, and I would buy a table.When I sent him a request, he would never make a contribution.Never buy a table.”And “he doesn’t give” was the phrase she used.Well, that’s one example of an estrangement from that community that he aspired to be part of, or was naturally a part of, an upper-class, wealthier community.
The second is, when you talk to people, real estate moguls in New York, to this day, they disdain Donald Trump.Why?He never joined them.He never participated in their fights, including fights that he would agree with, you know, to get government taxes lowered in the city of New York, for instance, whatever.He was just standoffish to them, and they didn’t—they didn’t like him at all.They thought he was—also they thought he was a guy interested in self-exposure and lacked the humility, the modesty that you want to have, particularly if you’re a member of an unpopular real estate community.So he was disdained in the upper crust of New York when he was here.
You know, it’s interesting, you must have heard of Norman Vincent Peale; that was his minister.He and his dad would go to that Marble cathedral; the dad went every Sunday, I think.And they would hear the power of positive thinking preached at them.They would join elbow to elbow with some other New York elites and be preached that particular gospel. …
It was interesting, actually.One of the things that, if you go back and look at Ronald Reagan, one of the reasons he was successful is that he conveyed optimism.And Donald Trump doesn’t—except he’s trying to now with the coronavirus.He’s trying to basically ignore reality by saying: “Everything is going to be fine.You can come to my rallies.You don’t need a mask.Everything will be fine.”But generally speaking, he’s run—he creates a very depressing view of America and wars we shouldn’t have, spending we shouldn’t have made, government that doesn’t work.“It was all a mess before I got here.”“Even Abe Lincoln didn’t do as well as I did with the Black community.”I mean, it’s kind of—so the optimism is about him personally, not about the country.
And it’s really, you know, it’s surprising.And generally speaking, historically, pessimism doesn’t sell politically.It will be interesting to see whether it does in the presidential race.

Trump and Atlantic City

When he decides to go down to Atlantic City and make the town that nobody wanted to visit a successful vacation destination … how does he make it happen in New Jersey?And how does Donald Trump get all those casinos and all those licenses and all the, I guess, looking the other way by public officials so that he can do business?
Well, first of all, if you’re a public official and someone says, “I want to create jobs in your state or your city,” you’re amenable to listen to that.And that’s what Donald Trump was selling: “I’m going to create jobs.These casinos will be employment.Not only am I going to create jobs, I’m going to recreate Atlantic City and make it a magnet city once again for people to come and spend their money and provide you with new tax revenues.Isn’t that great?”In addition to that, Donald Trump was an equal opportunity campaign giver, Democrats and Republicans.Whoever was in power, he was making contributions to their campaigns.
And he’s acknowledged that.When he ran in 2016, he said: “You know, I understand the financial system and why it doesn’t work, because I have experience with it.I did it myself.”And I was quite stunned that he would say that.But if you went back and looked at the contributions, he was—he supported whoever was in power, Democrat or Republican, liberal or conservative, and in fact, will often make public statements that sounded very liberal, like abortion.He was pro-abortion, a woman’s right to choose, not what he—the position he takes today.
So you had reason to think that Donald Trump was not a man with deep political principle and philosophical principles.He did what he had to do to get ahead and get what he wanted.And he succeeded at that for a while on Atlantic City.

Trump and Giuliani

Why do you think he and Rudy—I know they weren’t friends at the very beginning.But why were he and Giuliani so connected, almost like a couple of made young guys from the outer boroughs in Manhattan making it work?
Well, Rudy—there are a number of things that work to that.Start with law and order.Rudy was a strong law-and-order mayor who did a—had a really good record on reducing crime in New York, with sometimes ruthless tactics, but nevertheless he was successful.And he initially had a police commissioner, Bill Bratton, a brilliant police commissioner who really helped pioneer the drop in crime.When Rudy Giuliani took over New York City, there were 2,000 murders a year in New York.That’s a lot of murders.And today it’s down to about 300.
So it was a big change.So Donald Trump, the law-and-order guy who came out against the Central Park Five—and I think Donald Trump really believes in law and order; we’ve seen it, you know, with his attitude towards protesters today.So that was one thing that united he and Giuliani.
They’re both Yankee fans.Giuliani’s a rabid Yankee fan.They would go to George—sit in George Steinbrenner’s box, the owner of the Yankees, together.They would see each other in that—in that realm as well.
And, you know, Giuliani was this tough-talking guy.Trump loves—you know, he loves thinking of people as, you know, actors, and Rudy plays the tough guy, and he is the tough guy.And I’m a tough guy like him.You know, same thing with Chris Christie when he was governor of New Jersey.Trump related to that as well—another tough guy, you know.
And were there more?I’m sure there are other things in there.And I’m not as familiar.I stopped writing my column when Rudy was elected and just concentrated on <i>The New Yorker</i> and books, so I didn’t follow closely what Giuliani may have done for Donald Trump, if anything, as mayor.
Trump at some moment basically explodes.The casinos go bankrupt.He’s got to sell the airline, which was failing badly.He’s got to sell [Adnan] Khashoggi’s yacht.He’s got to sell the Plaza.He’s got to divorce Ivana.He’s got to marry and then divorce Marla.It’s all—it’s all gone bad for Donald Trump.But somehow he doesn’t think it’s bad; somehow he doesn’t play it as bad.… The banks are going to reduce his income to … $150,000 a year, but he comes out of it smelling like a rose.And some of them said, well, he’s too big to fail; we can’t close him down because we’ll all go down if we close him down.Tell me that story, will you?What was it like to watch that unfold?
I mean, I think Trump—and I think we’re watching some of this unfold today with Trump, where it looks like the world is crashing in on him.The polls show him declining in popularity.He’s got the coronavirus.The economy that he was boasting about is obviously—appears to be wrecked.People are saying he’s not going to win the presidential election.His business is suffering.So you wonder, how does he get through that?And you wondered the same thing back then: How did he get through all these terrible things happening to him?
And I think one of the answers to that is, Donald Trump’s a salesman.And what a salesman does is always sell.You never show—you don’t, as he’s proud to say, you never apologize.You don’t admit weakness.You always convey strength.And I think he tried to do that then, and by the way, it’s probably one of the reasons he got out of the hole he was in back then, because the bankers who were dealing with him thought, this is a really confident guy.Donald’s a good actor.I mean, he knew how to sell that.
And that’s what he’s going to try and do in the presidential race this year.Whether he can pull it off is a question.But it’s very consistent that you always convey strength, optimism about yourself, not necessarily about the country.And I think that’s what he’s doing—what he did then and what he’s doing now.

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