Donald Trump's mouthpiece is finally talking for himself.
Sean Spicer's book – The Briefing: Politics, The Press and The President – has just been published and offers and unprecedented look into the workings of the White House and its sometimes bizarre, often controversial relationship with the press.
And we will be reading the book live, just as it makes its way from the press itself.
It is the latest in a series of bombshell books detailing life inside Trump's White House. From Michael Wolff's incendiary Fire and Fury to James Comey's combative A Higher Loyalty, many of Mr Trump's foes and confidantes have attempted to peer inside the president's head and work out what is going on.
But Spicer's is the first major release from one of the president's allies. And what an ally he has been: Spicer was famous for defending Trump over and over, even when that meant outright lying or appearing to suggest the holocaust didn't happen.
Now the erstwhile press secretary and communications director will finally give his insight on working for Trump, and helping create the image of the president we have today.
Live Updates
I am often asked if Donald Trump permanently changed campaign- ing. The answer is yes, but only up to a point. I don’t think we will ever again see a candidate like Donald Trump. His high-wire act is one that few could ever follow. He is a unicorn, riding a unicorn over a rainbow. His verbal bluntness involves risks that few candidates would dare take. His ability to pivot from a seemingly career-ending moment to a furious assault on his opponents is a talent few politicians can muster.
"They’re sending people that have lots of problems, and they’re bringing those problems with us. They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists."
Spicer says that he was shocked – that, with all the work the party had done to win around Hispanic voters, it was "so far from our message that it was almost a parody".
But all Spicer ended up saying on behalf of the RNC was: "[A]s far as painting Mexican Americans with that kind of a brush, I think that’s probably something that is not helpful to the cause."
Then the same happened when Trump said that John McCain wasn't a war hero because he had been caught. (He was a prisoner of war for years and refused to be let go until all his fellow detainees were released too.) Spicer claims to be shocked by this, and so did his fellow Republicans. That statement, in the end, was a tweet:
"@SenJohnMcCain is an American hero because he served his country and sacrificed more than most can imagine. Period."
It's not clear if all of this is Spicer's attempt to put distance between him and the president. If it is, then the distance is measured in centimetres.
“So waddya think happened?”
Donald Trump sat behind his desk, hands resting on its surface. A bank of large windows overlooked Fifth Avenue, with a view down the street to a nice green corner of Central Park.
Inside, Donald Trump’s office was a mélange of helmets, boxers’ belts, trophies, plaques, and awards. The walls were covered, floor to ceiling, with framed pictures, most of them magazine covers featuring the visage of Trump himself. Trump had run out of room on the walls, so more framed pictures populated the space around the floorboard. His desk housed columns of memos and blueprints.
After the election, Reince had agreed to run for a second term as chairman, and I had agreed to stay on as communications director. Now Reince and I and the staff from the RNC finance department were in New York to meet with big, loyal Republican donors, one of whom resided in a tower that bore his name. We went to Trump Tower for constructive criticism and, we hoped, a large donation. Trump had been a big Romney supporter and was disappointed by his loss.
I told him that the Democrats had huge advantages in voter data and online messaging. He nodded and shot back an analysis of his own.
“Romney blew it,” Trump said. “He should have had me speak at the convention. He could have used me more.”
During my first few months at the RNC, it felt more like working in a startup company than at a national, established political party’s headquarters. We were on a tight timeline to get out of debt and up to speed in time for the 2012 election cycle. We ran lean and mean, and our small but growing communications staff worked seven days a week, doing multiple jobs from operating the RNC’s own TV studio, to book- ing Republican officials on shows, to working with regional media and social media. We kept at it because we knew how much was at stake. Our purpose was simple: raise the money and build the team necessary to get Republicans elected and re-elected.
Our pump-priming investments worked. Led by Angela Meyers and the finance team, donor support for the RNC grew, and we went from a barebones RNC staff of just over eighty to more than 250 at headquar- ters by election day in 2012.
We were still not where we needed to be—the timeline was too short for us to match what the Democrats had—but we had built and cemented a strong team that could offer significant help to the next Republican presidential candidate.
And we all know who would that turn out to be...
I was struck by the way our country treated suspected ter- rorists, accused of some of the most heinous crimes. They enjoyed twenty-first century comforts such as satellite television, a full library of DVD selections, healthcare, sporting gear, and a soccer field. These accused terrorists were receiving better treatment than many Americans will ever experience—and their accommodations were being footed by the American taxpayer. There are American veterans—who wore our country’s uniform and deployed to lands far away, leaving families behind, to fight on the front lines of wars—who are living on the streets, wondering where their next meal will come from or how they will receive healthcare. Yet here were these suspected terrorists—the most heinous of them all—living in very comfortable conditions.
Worth remembering that the place is a torture site and that it has been accused by the UN of conducting interrogation techniques that are still banned under international law.
But it's true of course that most people in America won't have access to healthcare, as Spicer suggests. He was part of an administration that has rolled back what small efforts there have been to introduce some system of fair provision in the country.
The Gold Cup is held in a scenic meadow in the hills not far from the farm estates of Middleburg, Virginia. It’s the kind of event where people dress up in their “Sunday best” to sample delicacies and cham- pagne in tents sponsored by luxury car companies and other corporate sponsors. Many spectators, including myself and my friends, used it as an excuse to drink in the middle of a Saturday.
You know, a real Sean Spicer kind of place.
Is he being sarcastic or not? I have no idea! What is a Sean Spicer kind of place? Somewhere where you drink in the day? Or is he not one of those people? No idea.
In reality, of course, Sean Spicer's brand is actually Melissa-McCarthy-as-Sean-Spicer. Most people know him as a belligerent buffoon played by a woman on a sketch show. That's why the impression was so bruising to him, I suppose.
[Pence] looked surprised.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re doing a great job.”
That is classic Mike Pence.
Many alarmist books at the time insisted Japan would soon surpass the United States economically, and everyone would live in a Japanese-dominated world. So, learning Japanese was, I reasoned, a smart investment for my future.
As soon as I was admitted to Connecticut College—a small, liberal arts institution with a campus that has that classic, gray-brick, New England look—I immediately set my sights on being a Japanese language major. (Imagine that on Saturday Night Live. I wonder how good Melissa McCarthy’s Japanese is.) Then I encountered Japanese, with its subject- object-verb sentences, its three scripts, and the most complex gram- matical structure of any language. It wasn’t long before I received a letter from the dean suggesting that my talents should be invested elsewhere
- Raised Roman Catholic
- Dad was not very political: given to complaining about "idiots" in local or state government, but it was "never ideological or based on party"
- Grew up in a "tiny town in a small state"
- Childhood sounds like something from It or Stranger things: "We played four square in the street, rode our bicycles everywhere, and played tag with flashlights when it was dark"
- Dad sold yachts
- Later he would learn about how tax is bad because the government decided to tax luxury yachts
Dear Mr. President,
It has been an honor to serve in your administration as White House press secretary.
After considerable reflection and discussion with my family, I have decided to pursue other opportunities. To ensure a smooth transition, I will work through the end of next month.
I will continue to support your efforts to strengthen the U.S. economy, create American jobs, and fight the evils of terrorism. Thank you for keeping our country safe, defending the foundation of our great democracy, and Making America Great Again.
He hands it to Trump, who initially rejects it. But eventually he is won around and takes Spicer's resignation, with a surprisingly amount of kindness.
"I thanked the president and calmly walked out of the Oval Office knowing that I had made one of the biggest decisions of my life," Spicer writes. "I have seen a lot of sides of Donald Trump—tough talking negotiator, political pitchman—but that day I saw another. He was caring, kind, and gracious."
“Anthony, as I was telling the team yesterday, we need new blood,” the president said. “We’re getting killed in the press. We’ve got to do anything we can to get back on track.”
Please allow a moment for the live blog to load.