In 2018, Donald Trump became enraged because he thought Attorney General Jeff Sessions was not doing enough to protect him from investigations of Russian support for his 2016 presidential campaign. At one point, he shouted, "Where's my Roy Cohn?"
Roy Cohn (1927-1986) had been Trump's lawyer and fixer for thirteen years from their first meeting in 1973 to Cohn's death in 1986. For me, the two best accounts of how Cohn created Trump are Kai Bird and Susan Goldmark's new book American Scoundrel: Roy Cohn's Dark Journey from Joe McCarthy to Donald Trump (Scribner, 2026) and the 2024 biographical movie The Apprentice, which is easily available at Amazon Prime Video. Trump described this film as "a cheap, defamatory, and politically disgusting hatchet job" and described those involved in the film as "human scum." That means it's totally accurate.
Cohn first gained national prominence as a young Justice Department prosecutor who won the court case that led to the conviction and execution of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg for Russian espionage in 1953. He then became the chief counsel to Senator Joseph McCarthy, the Chair of the Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations, who was attempting to expose government employees who were communist spies or those who were homosexual and thus "security threats" because they could be blackmailed into becoming spies.
In his work with McCarthy, Cohn became known for his ruthless methods that were often illegal and unethical. He was also known for his hypocrisy in exposing homosexuals in government. He was a homosexual although he always denied it publicly.
From the late 1950s to his death, Cohn was a practicing lawyer in New York City whose clients included the most powerful and prominent people in politics and business as well as organized crime. He was often prosecuted for his criminal behavior, but he was never convicted. Finally, however, in 1986, he was disbarred by the New York State Supreme Court for unethical and unprofessional conduct, including misappropriation of clients' funds, lying on a bar application, and falsifying a change to a will. A few months after his disbarment, he died from the complications from AIDS.
When Cohn first met Trump in 1973, Trump was working for his father's real estate company. The Justice Department had just filed a suit against Fred Trump's company charging them with violating the 1968 Fair Housing Act. According to the Justice Department, thirty-nine Trump-owned apartment buildings in Queens, Brooklyn, and Staten Island had systematically barred blacks from renting. Their applications had been marked by a large "C," to identify the applicants as "colored." Four Trump building superintendents were willing to testify to this.
The Feds proposed that if the Trumps signed a consent decree by which they agreed to integrate their sixteen thousand units, then there would be no fines and no admission of guilt. But Cohn's legal strategy was always attack, attack, attack. So he persuaded Trump to countersue the Department of Justice on the grounds of defamation, seeking $100,000 in damages. Cohn and Trump held a press conference at the New Hilton to announce their suit. They got a lot of newspaper headlines. A federal judge dismissed the suit as frivolous, telling Cohn that he was "wasting time and paper." But that was the point: Cohn's favorite tactic was to file totally bogus lawsuits that would delay the legal process and wear down his opponents.
Cohn dragged out the legal proceedings for twenty-one months. He charged that FBI agents were coercing witnesses with "gestapo-like interrogation," and they were acting like "stormtroopers." When the judge reprimanded him for making charges that were "utterly without foundation," Cohn retracted his statement.
Then he filed a contempt motion to have a young prosecutor--Donna Goldstein--removed from the case because she had been calling prospective witnesses in the middle of the night and threatening them with jail time if they didn't testify against Trump. It was an absurd claim with no evidence to support it, but Goldstein was scared because such a charge could end her legal career. U.S. District Judge Edward Neaher was forced to halt the main case and hold a hearing on the contempt motion. A prosecutor spent two hours proving that the charges were baseless. Cohen was silent throughout. The judge then spoke to Cohn: "Mr. Cohn, I think it would be in the best interest of everyone if you would just withdraw your motion." Cohn replied: "Well, I think the girl [Goldstein] has learned her lesson and I'm sure she won't do it again."
Eventually, in June 1975, Trump settled by signing the same consent decree that he could have signed in 1973. He agreed to advertise his rentals in Black owned newspapers and list vacancies with the Urban League. In effect, Trump had agreed to adopt an affirmative action program.
Trump and Cohn held a press conference and declared victory. Trump has often claimed that this was his first great victory in the courts with Cohn as his lawyer. As Bird and Goldmark have observed: "Trump learned from Cohn that the court of public opinion is far more important than the court of law" (265).
Three years later, the Feds filled another suit claiming that the Trumps were still discriminating against Blacks. Cohn told reporters that the charges were without "the slightest merit." But Cohn and Trump signed a new consent decree without admitting wrongdoing.
Bird and Goldmark conclude: "Roy had taught him that the pyrotechnics of publicity were more important than the law. What counted was controlling the images in any narrative" (266). They quote from Sam Roberts, a New York Times reporter who covered city politics in the 1970s: "Roy was a master of situational morality. He worked with a three-dimensional strategy, which was: 1. Never settle, never surrender. 2. counterattack, counter-sue immediately. 3. No matter what happens, no matter how deeply into the muck you get, claim victory and never admit defeat."
In all of this, I see four character traits shared by Cohen and Trump: power-seeking, no ideology, narcissism, and nihilism.
1. Power-seeking. Like Cohn, Trump has sought power--or at least the appearance of power--and it's power for its own sake, not power as a means to any end. There are only two kinds of people in the world--winners and losers. The winners are those who are powerful. The losers are those who are not.
As I have pointed out in a previous post, Trump's ambition cannot be satisfied by the limited powers granted to the President in the American Constitution. As he told Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan when they interviewed him on March 16 of this year, it is not even enough for him to be the most powerful president who has ever lived, because he must be "the most powerful man that the planet has ever known," which is what "a historian" had told him he was. Haberman and Swan later found out that this "historian" was not a professional historian but the long-time caddie for the golfer Gary Player.
But notice that the mere appearance of power is enough for Trump. For that, all he needs is the testimony of a golf caddie to his world-historical power.
2. No ideology. Cohn was assumed to be a McCarthyite anti-communist Republican conservative. Trump has been assumed to be a populist Republican conservative and an "America First" isolationist. But in fact neither man was devoted to a coherent ideology. Although Cohn was an informal adviser to both Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan, he became a powerful member of the Democratic Party machine in New York. Harvard law school professor Alan Dershowitz knew both Cohn and Trump in the 1980s, and he has said that neither Cohn nor Trump were ideological. "Roy Cohn didn't really have any ideology, even anti-communist ideology. He was somebody who rewarded loyalty and punished disloyalty," Dershowitz observed. He saw that while both Cohn and Trump "wanted to win," they were "among the two least ideological people I knew."
Both Cohn and Trump pretended to have a populist ideology. But as Bird and Goldmark note, this was a purely opportunistic stance by which they "used their personal resentments to tap into raw populist emotions that have long festered in American society" (382). This pretense of populist ideology was only an instrument in the pursuit of power for its own sake. Consequently, their ideology could be set aside if they thought some other position would better serve their pursuit of power.
For example, in all three of Trump's presidential campaigns, one of the preeminent themes was an "America First" foreign policy of isolationism and "no more foreign wars," particularly in the Middle East. But then many of his most fervent MAGA supporters (such as Marjorie Taylor Greene and Tucker Carlson) were shocked when he launched his war against Iran. They thought Trump was committed to an ideology of "American First" foreign policy.
When Trump was asked by Haberman and Swan how helping Israel fight Iran could be consistent with his theme of "America First," he answered: "Well, considering that I'm the one that developed 'America First,' and considering that the term wasn't used until I came along, I think I'm the one that decides that" (194). In other words, "America First" means whatever Trump says it means, and his followers will have to accept that.
Ever since the Iranian Revolution of 1979 that overthrew the Shah of Iran and established the Islamic Republic of Iran, when Trump was 32 years old, Iran has been a thorn in the side of the United States; and Trump throughout those years has complained that America has been humiliated by the failure of every President to defeat Iran.
Benjamin Netanyahu was the first foreign leader to meet Trump at the White House at the beginning of his second term, and he shrewdly began working on Trump's psychology of power-seeking to persuade him that he could be the first president powerful enough to defeat Iran in cooperation with Israel. Haberman and Swan report that Trump ignored the warnings of his military and intelligence advisors that Netanyahu's plan for "regime change" in Iran was wildly unrealistic and that going to war with Iran would be a foreign policy blunder of massive proportions. Trump could not listen to them because Netanyahu had seduced him with the prospect of displaying his power to the whole world by defeating Iran in war.
3. Narcissism. I have written about Trump's grandiose narcissism. Cohn showed the same narcissistic personality. And for both the prominent sign of their narcissism was shamelessness. Cohn's cousin David Marcus has observed that both men didn't care what other people thought about their behavior. "Roy would just make light of the fact that people in the family just didn't care about him. He did not care. That's the odd thing." Marcus thought Trump was the same way, but there was a difference. Trump showed "a narcissism combined with insecurity. But in Roy it was a total security in who he was--except for the fact that he didn't want people knowing in public he was gay." Mary Trump--Trump's niece, the daughter of his older brother who died young--has made a similar assessment of Trump as a psychopathic narcissist with the insecurity of a little boy who fears the abusive scorn of his father.
4. Nihilism. Narcissism is intertwined with nihilism because if one believes the nihilist claim that truth and morality are not real, if they are just fictions of one's own mind, then the narcissist can create his own truth and his own morality. Gabriel Sherman, who wrote the screenplay for The Apprentice, has Cohn telling the young Trump that "there is no right and wrong. There is no morality. There is no Truth with a capital T. It's a construct. It's a fiction. It's man made. You create your own reality." Cohn once told an interviewer: "Certain rules are made to be broken. They're designed to screw the little guy. I decided long ago to make my own rules, to act according to my own choices, my own judgments, and my own conscience."
Compare this with what Trump recently said in an interview with the New York Times. He was asked if there were any limits on his global powers. He answered: "Yeah, there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It's the only thing that can stop me." Notice the emphasis by both Cohn and Trump: my own rules, my own judgments, my own conscience, my own morality, my own mind. That's narcissistic nihilism.
For Cohn and Trump, their narcissistic nihilism is even expressed in the way they talk, in certain telling phrases. Roger Stone noticed that Cohn would always say, "If you wanna know the truth," or "I can tell you," or "to be absolutely frank," and then you would know he was going to lie to you. Listen to Trump when he's speaking casually to reporters or to audiences at his rallies, and you'll hear the same phrases. Trump's phrases are all Roy Cohn's phrases, and they are always introducing a big lie.
So that's how Roy Cohn created Donald Trump and his narcissistic nihilistic politics.
The day after Trump was first elected president in November of 2016, Roger Stone called him to congratulate him. At the end of their conversation, Trump said, "Wouldn't Roy love to see this moment? Boy, do we miss him."