ST. LOUIS �� After a white supremacist rally in Charlottesville, Va., in August turned deadly, President Donald Trump said there were "very fine people on both sides" of the conflict, a comment that spurred outrage across the political spectrum.
For CNN, that surely complicated the task of finding a commentator to take the pro-Trump position on "Anderson Cooper 360," since most prominent conservatives in the country were ducking Trump's words.
Enter Ed Martin, former Missouri Republican Party chairman, sometime candidate for office, full-time controversy magnet _ and, lately, the conservative who will happily wade into the enemy territory of non-Fox cable news to stump for Trump when, seemingly, no one else will.
"(Trump) never said that the people that were scumbags are good people," Martin told Cooper that night, trying to draw a line between the overtly racist element in the Charlottesville crowd and others who said they were just there to protest the removal of a Confederate statue. "Do you think there are people that care about the issue of southern heritage that aren't racist?
"That's what he meant."
The others on the panel weren't having it. Voices rose, all aimed point-blank at Martin, some getting personal.
Anti-Trump Republican strategist Ana Navarro: "You're a little too close and you're getting into my danger zone."
Political analyst April Ryan: "You can say what you want, Ed, but until you walk in my shoes, don't say it. ... I know political incorrectness is in."
Former Bill Clinton adviser Paul Begala: "There were two troopers who lost their lives trying to keep us safe, and we ought to honor their memory, not just toss it off like a talking point, Ed!"
Navarro again: "Back off, you creep!"
Martin's bull-in-a-china shop routine in Missouri over the years has shaken a former governor's administration, split the state Republican Party and divided Phyllis Schlafly's family. Now he's taken his chaotic show on the road as CNN's resident Trump defender.
Martin seems to relish getting snarled at by CNN stars like Cooper and Don Lemon and the political luminaries who appear on their shows. He tends to smile politely during the verbal barrages on set, often coming at him from all directions.
"Sometimes you're on the hot seat. It's sometimes grueling," Martin said. "But even if you're in disagreement, you can't be disagreeable."
Smiling through the political warfare, he says, has allowed him to stay on friendly terms with some of his tougher on-air critics. Cooper, who sometimes gets in Martin's face during the show, is quiet and polite when the cameras are off, Martin says. Lemon, who once told Martin on air, "There's no way on earth you can believe 80 percent of the things you defend," is engaging and funny backstage, according to Martin. Even former Clintonite Begala is "a very agreeable guy" once the smoke clears.
Others, not so much.
"People, when they're upset about something, especially with Trump, they really believe it. What's hard is some of the people who take it off the air and stay mad," said Martin, declining to name names. "There's a couple of the commentators who don't want to look at me when we're in the hallway."
Anyone who knows anything about Martin's history in Missouri knows that's a feeling he's probably used to. Martin, an attorney by training, has for years staked out the right edge of Missouri politics, generally with controversy in tow.
As chief of staff for Republican Missouri Gov. Matt Blunt in 2007, Martin allegedly used state computers to whip up opposition to Democrats, and then allegedly lied to the media about the existence of those computer records and fired a staff attorney who tried to get the office to follow the law. In the end, Martin resigned, Blunt's single term was sullied and the state was out about $2 million in legal fees and settlements.
After failed campaigns for Congress and Missouri attorney general, Martin became chairman of the Missouri GOP in 2013, a post he held for a tumultuous two years. His enthusiasm for the tea party and personal rifts with other Republican officials drove a deep wedge into the party and was blamed by some for diminished donations that left just $235 in the party's campaign budget by the end of Martin's tenure.
From there, Martin became the right-hand man to Schlafly, the Alton, Ill.-based conservative icon _ and whose sudden support for Trump in the 2016 primaries, spurning the more traditional conservative candidates, dismayed many of her family-values-oriented followers.
Schlafly's daughter and others blamed Martin, an ardent Trump supporter from early on.
Martin co-wrote a book last year with Schlafly, "The Conservative Case for Trump," and formed an alliance with her sons in their battle with their sister for control of their mother's empire of conservative publications and causes. Schlafly died last fall at 92 with her children embroiled in a tangle of litigation. Martin still controls one of her nonprofits but has been expelled from another.
As Schlafly's self-proclaimed ideological heir, Martin was already an occasional presence on national cable TV when CNN's regular Trump surrogate, Jeffrey Lord, wrote "Sieg Heil" during a Twitter exchange in August. The network subsequently ended its affiliation with Lord.
Martin's invitations to sit in on the CNN panels then became more frequent, and included a stretch that he sensed was a "tryout." In September, he said, he became a regular CNN contributor, with a stipend: "A modest amount, not money that you would live on." The network provides usually weekly flights from St. Louis to New York, with a car waiting to take him to his hotel, to the studio _ and to all the political combat he could want.
Martin said he's had no direct contact with Trump lately beyond a brief hello after the President's St. Charles, Mo., appearance last month. But Martin's political positions on his CNN appearances track virtually unfailingly to Trump:
_ On Roy Moore, the Alabama Senate candidate whom Trump supported despite allegations that Moore pursued underage girls as an adult: "We don't know it's true. There's no evidence ... There are lots of discrepancies in the allegations."
_ On sexual assault allegations made against Trump: "If there was evidence ... I think we would have had a different kind of outcome (to last year's election) ... It's grandstanding for politics ... It's fake news. Trump's right."
_ On Hillary Clinton: "If there's one thing the American people know, she has no feeling for people ... She's crooked. She's a loser."
_ On special counsel Robert Mueller's investigation into alleged ties to Russia and Trump's presidential campaign last year: "(He is) a zombie prosecutor ... This guy Mueller is trying to overturn an election now ... Nobody thinks the election was moved by Russia."
At times, Martin's CNN hosts come close to melting down over his steadfast defense of Trump.
"You can't ever say the president was wrong, can you?" Cooper asked during one argument.
Or, as Lemon put it during another show, boiling over with frustration: "Do you just sit around and figure out ways to defend anything the president does ... even when it doesn't make sense?"
Martin kept the smile on during those moments.
"I learned from the master: Phyllis Schlafly was the quintessential happy warrior," Martin said. "There's no reason to frown and be dour. Any discussion leads generally to more discussion, which is a positive.
"And it throws the other side off balance," he said. "They don't know what to make of this guy who just keeps smiling."
