Is Donald Trump scared? | The New Yorker

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For a long time at former President Donald Trump’s arraignment in Miami on Tuesday afternoon, the only sounds in the courtroom were the creaking of the wooden benches in the spectators’ gallery and the hum of the air-conditioning system. Trump, dressed in a dark suit, sat between his two lawyers, Todd Blanche and Chris Kise. After a while he leaned to his right to whisper to Blanche. Blanche covered her mouth as she answered, pressing her face into Trump’s shoulder, almost in a hug.

Every American should be given the opportunity to observe Trump sitting quietly for an hour. Just then, half a dozen members of the public and several dozen representatives of the press were released from their names by the clerk of the US District Court for the Southern District of Florida. In April, at Trumps arraignment in Manhattan on thirty-four counts of falsifying business records, the former President said less than a dozen words. On Tuesday, facing federal charges including the willful retention of national security defense information and conspiracy to obstruct justiceTrump said nothing. His lawyers spoke for him. Your honor, we most certainly enter a plea of ​​not guilty, Blanche said, a few minutes into the proceeding.

There had been speculation before the hearing that Trump would not be formally arraigned on Tuesday. Two of the lawyers handling the case left his legal team last week, after the indictment against him was unsealed. Because the case will be tried in Florida, Trump needs an attorney admitted to the state bar. But who would take on such a case, with such a client, and at the last minute? Representing Trump right now means accepting a non-zero chance of getting yourself into legal trouble. Federal prosecutors, led by special counsel Jack Smith, built their indictment against Trump in part using notes kept by one of Trump’s own lawyers, M. Evan Corcoran, who likely who will now be called as a witness in the case. But there was Kise, a veteran Florida attorney with deep ties to the state’s Republican Party, sitting to Trumps left. There always seems to be someone in a red hat or a blue suit ready to step up for Trump, regardless of the fate of the last man.

Arraignments are often considered perfunctory affairs, especially in cases against wealthy defendants who can afford bond and are not incarcerated before trial. But nothing about the criminal prosecution of a former President is frivolous. As was the case in April in Manhattan, Trump’s arraignment on Tuesday involved extensive discussion of Trump’s extraordinary circumstances. Prosecutors alleged that Trump hid classified national security documents in sloppily stored bankers boxes at Mar-a-Lago, his private club in Palm Beach, and at his golf club in Bedminster, New Jersey, and that he engaged in a series of tricks and scheming maneuvers when asked to return them. While discussing whether the judge presiding over the arraignment, Jonathan Goodman, would ban Trump from contacting witnesses in the case, Blanche argued that it would be impossible for Trump to follow such a rule, as the case involves so many elements of Trump: his staff, his security detail, his clubs.

Trump’s co-defendant in the case is Waltine Nauta, a former White House military valet who has continued to work for Trump since the former President left office. The government said Nauta was another member of Trump’s conspiracy to keep classified documents. Nauta sits at the defense table to Blanches right, his shiny bald head contrasting with Trumps shiny blond head. Goodman said it was his understanding that Nauta was with Trump every day or almost every day. Nautas’ presence means Trump has familiar company in the courtroom. As was the case in Manhattan, no members of the Trump family attended the hearing in Miami. There has been a lot of talk about what kind of venue Florida is for a Trump trial, and whether a jury here would be friendlier to the former President than one in New York. Calls went out for Trump supporters to protest the proceeding on Tuesday. But, for most of the morning, Trump fans rivaled the number of feral chickens that lived on the lawn outside the Wilkie D. Ferguson, Jr., Courthouse.

Eventually, the judge, prosecutors, and Trump’s lawyers came up with a plan in which Trump agreed not to directly discuss the facts of the case with anyone prosecutors put on a list of potential witnesses. Otherwise, prosecutors seem to have gone out of their way to show that they don’t want the case to burden Trump in any way. He was not asked to surrender his passport. He was not asked to check in with pretrial services. He does not have to post bail. Trump is running for President, after all. After about forty-five minutes, the hearing was over. Trump stood as the judge exited, and then he turned briefly to the gallery before exiting through a side door. Her head rested on his shoulders. He grimaced.

From the courthouse, Trump made what the Miami Herald called a strategic detour to Versailles, a Cuban restaurant in Little Havana where his supporters had gathered. Are you ready? Food for everyone! he said, before a pastor and a rabbi on hand took a moment to pray for him. Trump then headed to the airport, to fly to Bedminster, one of the scenes of the alleged crime, and the site of a fund-raiser he planned to attend that evening. On Wednesday, Trump will turn seventy-seven years old. He may become President again, or he may face a terminal prison sentence. It remains impossible to say which is more likely.

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