Cassidy Hutchinson’s Testimony against Trump Is Devastating

By Andrew C. McCarthy

Tuesday, June 28, 2022

 

Cassidy Hutchinson, a top aide to Trump’s White House chief of staff Mark Meadows, provided compelling testimony Tuesday that former president Donald Trump is singularly culpable for the Capitol riot.

 

The testimony in a session of the House January 6 committee — a session abruptly called, reportedly due to concerns about Ms. Hutchinson’s safety — was devastating because it was directly about the former president. The day’s lone witness pulled back the curtain that countless advisers and aides kept around the mercurial Trump for four years. There are significant questions about aspects of her account, particularly where it involved hearsay — things she had been told about the president’s actions, as opposed to the things she herself witnessed. We also have to reserve judgment, even allowing that she seems impressive, because the highly partisan, unapologetically anti-Trump committee merely presents its side of the story, and has gone to unseemly lengths to exclude cross-examination and alternative perspectives. All in all, though, Hutchinson showed the nation, moment by moment, what he was like on a day when, undeniably, Trump was at his worst.

 

It was worse than America thought. Even Americans with extraordinarily low expectations about the former president’s previously undisclosed, behind-the-scenes behavior during the hours when the riot unfolded.

 

Skillfully led through a prosecutor-style direct examination by committee chairwoman Liz Cheney, Hutchinson explained that Trump was like a wild beast at the Ellipse shortly before his gasoline-on-the-fire speech. The security personnel had set up magnetometers for entry into the area. That thinned the throngs proximate to the podium where he’d be speaking. Trump was ballistic because of the effect on “the shot” — the video image of his speech that would go out to the world. He wanted an overflowing crowd. He wanted to convey the impression, the reality, of a rabid mob furious that the election had been stolen, furious that Congress was poised to count the “fraudulent” electoral votes and pronounce Joe Biden the winner.

 

The magnetometers were vital for security. Despite its being obvious that the “mags” would detect weapons, many fanatics went through them anyway. Police thus seized knives, clubs, toxic sprays, brass knuckles, and so on. But that is not what most alarmed security forces. They worried about the mobs outside the Ellipse — the fanatics who chose not to go through the mags because they were armed with deadlier weapons: Glock pistols, AR-15s, other firearms. Cheney played communications traffic among the security forces, along with video depicting gunmen who were spotted in trees and elsewhere out on the Mall.

 

The president of the United States, nevertheless, was “furious,” Hutchinson related, because the armed mob was being kept away. It spoiled the optics he had in mind.

 

“Take the f***ing mags away,” he screamed at his aides and security personnel. Told that this could not be done because it was too dangerous, because there were too many lethal weapons, Trump lost it. “They’re not here to hurt me,” he countered. It didn’t matter that they were obviously there to hurt others, and that those others were patently the people inside the Capitol, the ones Trump was accusing of stealing the election. The mobs, even if armed, were his people, Trump insisted. “Take the f***ing mags away. They’re not here to hurt me. They can come in. Then they can march on the Capitol.”

 

Hutchinson was on the scene. This gale of rage happened, she testified, just two or three minutes before the president went to the podium.

 

There, he gave a willfully provocative speech. Legal analysts, myself included, while not defending the speech — which is indefensible — have pointed out that it does not meet the demanding legal test for incitement. Trump makes grudging references to protesting “peacefully”  — and Cheney continues to damage her credibility by eliding mention of that (and it’s gratuitous self-damage because, the more the evidence mounts, the more apparent it is that it’s just a couple of throwaway lines — which doesn’t justify omitting it as if it didn’t happen). Well, Trump’s words may not have been incitement as a matter of law, but that doesn’t mean they are not evidence of other potential crimes — especially once you are informed about how fully aware the president was about the mob being lethally armed. It is a crime, to take just one example, to aid and abet the forcible intimidation of government officials, including the vice president and members of Congress.

 

In any event, Hutchinson explained that the speech, like all presidential speeches, was carefully vetted by staff. White House counsel Pat Cipollone and his staff pleaded for removal of the exhortations Trump was insistent on including — “fight for me,” “fight for the movement,” and so on. They were too close to the legal line of incitement. It was plainly foreseeable that the mob could take forcible action; if it did, White House lawyers feared that this rhetoric would place Trump squarely in legal jeopardy for whatever mayhem resulted — obstruction of congressional proceedings, intimidation of and assault on federal officials, and so on.

 

The rhetoric stayed in the speech.

 

So did Trump’s vow that he would be marching to the Capitol with the mob.

 

This had been a bone of contention for days. Cipollone had admonished Meadows, and beseeched Hutchinson to be firm with Meadows, that the president absolutely must not go to the Capitol from the Ellipse. Meadows was not interested in confronting Trump on this. It may be that he supported the insane idea, but that doesn’t matter, since it was Trump who insisted he was doing it. Cipollone told Hutchinson of his serious legal concerns: “Please make sure we don’t go to the Capitol, Cass,” he said. “We’re going to be accused of every crime imaginable.” Hutchinson recalled that Cipollone was especially worried the president would be accused of obstruction — of interfering in the electoral count.

 

Hutchinson recounted that, after numerous discussions about this among White House staff and security officials, it was “settled” that Trump would not go to the Capitol — which is to say, the underlings made the call without the boss, the president, being on board. Trump, however, did not care what his subordinates thought. As he reminded people innumerable times on January 6, “I’m the f***ing president.” Gliding on the energy of his Ellipse speech, Trump told the throngs that they’d soon be marching on the Capitol and that he’d be going with them.

 

Instantly, Hutchinson’s phone rang. It was Kevin McCarthy, the House Republican minority leader. What did Trump mean by that, McCarthy demanded. He can’t come here, McCarthy inveighed, reminding Hutchinson that he’d been promised Trump would not proceed to the Capitol following the speech. Hutchinson assured him that it wouldn’t happen.

 

It was happening, though — at least the planning for it was concrete and well underway. The records of the Secret Service and the National Security Council, which was watching things unfold in real time, indicate that plans were being made on the fly for Trump to go to the Capitol — to march there, perhaps, or go by car. In fact, these agencies assumed that, once Trump ended his speech at 1:10 p.m., he was on his way to the Hill. It was just a matter of finding the best route.

 

Nevertheless, Hutchinson says she learned from Tony Ornato, the Secret Service official who ran White House security operations, that the agent who headed up Trump’s security detail, Robert Engel, was adamant: The president would not be going to the Capitol.

 

Immediately following the speech, Trump entered a Secret Service SUV and told his detail, “Take me to the f***ing Capitol.” According to Ornato, Engel told the president that this would not be possible, that it was too dangerous. Trump became irate, railing, “I’m the f***ing president, take me up to the Capitol now.”

 

Fortunately, Engel had no intention of testing the “I was just following orders” defense. He refused the president. What Hutchinson says happened next is already controversial. She was told that things got physical. Trump was said to have lunged forward from the back seat and grabbed the steering wheel, prompting Engel to grasp the president’s arm and state, “Sir, you need to take you hand off the steering wheel, we’re going back to the West Wing, we’re not going to the Capitol.” Hutchinson was told that, at that point, Trump lunged at Engel, his free hand forcibly aimed at the agent’s clavicle. Then things deescalated and the SUV went back to the White House — not the Capitol.

 

Trump, who was obviously hanging on Hutchinson’s every word this afternoon, issued a statement on his Truth Social platform, declaring, “Her Fake story that I tried to grab the steering wheel of the White House Limousine in order to steer it to the Capitol Building is ‘sick’ and fraudulent, very much like the Unselect Committee itself.” NBC News, no Trump apologist, reported that its “close to the Secret Service” source said Engel would dispute Hutchinson’s account, as would the driver. Trump apologists, moreover, were quick to point out that Hutchinson’s account is hearsay: She heard the story from Ornato, who got it from Engel.

 

That’s true. Still, a few things are worth bearing in mind. First, this isn’t just any hearsay — like idle chatter a witness might eavesdrop on. We’re talking here about a chain of command, where government officials are expected to report things to their superiors — in this instance, up to the president’s chief-of-staff. More to the point, Hutchinson learned these details just minutes after the encounter in the SUV. Ornato came directly to Meadows’s office with Engel. As Engel looked on in apparent affirmation, Ornato relayed what had just happened to Hutchinson. Engel gave no indication that Ornato had gotten any of the details wrong. And if Hutchinson is lying or exaggerating, it’s strange that, under oath, she would voluntarily identify so many witnesses who could contradict her.

 

On that score, we must note that before presenting Hutchinson’s stunning testimony, the committee interviewed Engel. (It is not clear to me whether Ornato has testified.) Consistent with the panel’s maddeningly opaque process, Engel’s testimony has not been released, so we can’t weigh it against Hutchinson’s and we don’t even know if he was asked about what happened in the SUV. All we can say is that before choosing to elicit Hutchinson’s account in a hyped public hearing, the committee heard Engel’s testimony. Presumably, if Engel gave the committee reason to believe Hutchinson’s hearsay account was wrong, Cheney would not have adduced it. If it turns out that Engel disputed Hutchinson’s story, and that Cheney knew that but adduced Hutchinson’s story anyway, without confronting Hutchinson with Engel’s contrary version of events, the committee might as well pack up its bags and go home. Going forward, the committee must come clean with all the evidence it has collected on this matter. At the very least, we should hear testimony from Ornato.

 

Whatever happened in the SUV, Trump returned to the West Wing incensed, especially at Meadows, whom he blamed for preventing him from going to the Capitol. Hutchinson said she did not witness whatever conversation first occurred between the president and his chief of staff. When she found Meadows in his office, though, he seemed catatonic. The television was on, the rioters were closing in on the Capitol, and Hutchinson tried to snap Meadows out of it, asking if he’d spoken with Trump. No, Meadows said, Trump wanted to be alone right now. Feeling like she was watching a slow-motion trainwreck, she pressed him, bringing up Meadows’s friend, Congressman Jim Jordan: Mark, do you know where Jim is? Rioters seemed poised to enter the Capitol. No, Meadows indicated that he hadn’t heard from Jordan, but the thought at least seemed to get his wheels spinning.

 

Just then, Cipollone came racing down the hall. “Mark,” he thundered, the rioters had gotten to the Capitol. “We need to go see the president right now.” Meadows fecklessly replied that Trump was aware of what was going on but didn’t want to do anything at the moment.

 

Cipollone was incredulous. Things had already turned violent. “Mark, something’s got to be done right now.” If it wasn’t, “blood will be on your hands.”

 

That, Hutchinson recalled, happened sometime around 2:15 to 2:25. Cipollone browbeat Meadows into going to see Trump.

 

As Hutchinson waited behind, Jordan called, desperately seeking Meadows. Hutchinson ran with the cellphone over to the dining room off the Oval Office. The door was closed. After confirming with the valet that Meadows was inside, she stepped into the room and got Meadows’s attention. As she handed him the phone, she could hear chaotic background noise, including the now-infamous “Hang Mike Pence” chants. Hutchinson then left Meadows and Cipollone to their tense discussion with Trump.

 

Moments later, the dejected pair came back to Meadows’s office — Hutchinson believed they might have been accompanied by associate White House counsel Eric Herschmann. She remembered Cipollone continuing to light into Meadows: “We’ve got to do something, they’re calling for the vice president to be f***ing hung.” Referring with resignation to the conversation they’d just had with Trump, Meadows told Cipollone, “You heard him. He thinks Mike deserves it. He doesn’t think they’re doing anything wrong.”

 

That is the background that we did not know, up until now, for Trump’s infamous tweet at 2:24 p.m.:

 

Mike Pence didn’t have the courage to do what should have been done to protect our Country and our Constitution, giving States a chance to certify a corrected set of facts, not the fraudulent or inaccurate ones which they were asked to previously certify.

 

The tweet launched a flurry of resignations — Matthew Pottinger, the deputy national-security adviser, told the committee he decided there and then to quit by day’s end. More followed, most prominently Education secretary Betsy DeVos and Transportation secretary Elaine Chao.

 

There was much more to Hutchinson’s testimony. Trump is prone to tantrums — throwing his plate of lunch against a wall upon learning of Attorney General Bill Barr’s public disclosure that there was no evidence of widespread election fraud. This was part of a pattern: It was not unusual for the president to hurl the porcelain when his temper erupted, or just yank the tablecloth and send the whole crashing mess to the floor, for the help to clean up.

 

That was the unhinged Trump of January 6, Hutchinson recalled: turning a deaf ear to his daughter, his oldest son, members of Congress, and friendly media who were imploring him — directly and through Meadows — to tell the rioters to stand down, to do something to stop the violence. He didn’t want to hear it. He couldn’t be moved from his conviction that the rioters were in the right, that it was Pence who had betrayed him.

 

It wasn’t until after 4 p.m. that his staff could prevail on Trump to make a statement telling his supporters to go home in peace. But he refused to condemn the attack. He told the mob that he “loved” them, that they were “very special,” and that he empathized with their anger.

 

The president was equally opposed to the healing speech his staff pleaded with him to give the day after the riot. What seemed finally to nudge him into it was the staff’s explanation that serious discussions were underway about the potential of invoking the 25th Amendment to remove him from office. Even then, though, Trump could not be pushed into saying that the election was now over. And it took emphatic advice from Cipollone and Herschmann to talk him out of broaching the possibility of pardoning people involved in the uprising.

 

Now, it is all well and good to remind everyone, again, that the January 6 committee has foolishly undermined its credibility by failing to provide a fair process. No, there was no cross-examination of Hutchinson. Maybe it will turn out that — as Trump’s characteristically indecorous social-media outbursts during the testimony suggested — Hutchinson is a “total phony,” a “leaker” and “bad news” . . . although she has worked for many top Republicans, is well-liked by many more, and appears to have continued getting promoted over the years because she does a good job.

 

We should understand, in any event, that what Cheney did with Hutchinson Tuesday is what prosecutors do with witnesses in grand juries every day: drawing out the witness’s testimony with no obligation to provide the defense perspective. To be sure, no one gets convicted at the grand-jury stage, but an awful lot of people get indicted this way, and on far less evidence than the country heard today.

 

Moreover, when we say the committee lacks due-process legitimacy, that means it lacks legitimacy as an ultimate finder of fact. It does not mean that we can blithely dismiss any evidence the committee discloses. It does not mean that, because we’d prefer that the evidence not be true, we can dismiss it out of hand because we don’t like the Democrats or the committee process. These witnesses are testifying under oath. There is significant risk to them if they are found to have committed perjury.

 

For now, all we can responsibly do is ask ourselves whether the evidence presented under these deficient procedures seems coherent and credible. Whether it will ultimately hold up when finally challenged — as it very well may be in, say, an eventual criminal trial — is another story. I’ll just say this: When I was a prosecutor, I obtained very good information from sources that were a lot more suspect than the January 6 committee — terrorists, hitmen, fraudsters. Yes, I still had to prove it in court, in the crucible of adversarial challenge and cross-examination. On the other hand, I wouldn’t have elicited it in court unless I had first been convinced that it was true.

 

Cheney ended Tuesday’s testimony by eliciting from Hutchinson that both Meadows and Rudy Giuliani sought pardons. (Trump didn’t give any.) It had been Giuliani, back on the night of January 2, who first asked Hutchinson, “Cass, are you excited for the Sixth? It’s going to be a great day. The president will be there, he’ll look powerful. Ask the chief about it.”

 

Shortly afterwards, she went to the office of the chief of staff, Meadows, and related Giuliani’s words. Meadows was quiet for a while. Finally, he answered, “There’s a lot going on Cass, but things might get real, real bad.”

 

They did. And Trump, who had tweeted that his supporters should come for a “wild” time in Washington, manifestly knew things might get real, real bad. Instead of trying to stop it, he willfully exacerbated the problem — and would apparently have made it worse still if the Secret Service had not been courageously insubordinate.

 

That’s what we learned today. Things will not be the same after this.