WASHINGTON — Whether she's in pursuit of a story or just navigating New York's legendary rush-hour traffic, it's never a good idea to get in Maggie Haberman's way.
"I'm sorry, I'm in my car and someone is blocking me," the celebrated New York Times correspondent says, mid-thought, in a conversation about her newly released Donald Trump biography.
More than once, the sound of her car horn blasting some ignorant commuter punctuates the discussion about "Confidence Man," only the latest in a barrage of recent books about the former U.S. president.
But Haberman, who has covered Trump since the heady days when he was building his reputation as the king of New York real estate, didn't land her latest story by elbowing her way past obstinate handlers or burly security.
Instead, "Confidence Man" seeks to explain one of the country's most compelling and divisive leaders — and, by extension, the most turbulent and vexing presidency in American history — by delving into his past.
People "didn't really understand either the moments or the person" while Trump's term was unfolding in real time, "just because the news cycle and churn with him was so constant," Haberman said.
"This (book) is the first sort of step back, even for moments that we all lived through — like, everybody's been through the Tea Party era," she said, a reference to the fringy offshoot of conservative populism from Barack Obama's time in office that ultimately morphed into Trumpism.
To understand the man better, "I just think the through line requires sort of turning off the day-to-day."
Almost from the outset, Trump was reshaping his version of events to suit his purposes, which invariably revolved around his own public image. Haberman lingers on one seemingly formative day when as an 18-year-old, he accompanied his father Fred to the opening ceremonies for the newly built Verrazano-Narrows Bridge in 1964.
Years later, Trump would tell a fanciful tale of watching through a driving rain as legions of public officials praised each other for their achievement and all but ignored Othmar Ammann, the bridge's Swedish-born designer: "I realized then and there that if you let people treat you how they want, you'll be made a fool."
In fact, it was a cloudless, sunny day, and Ammann was celebrated as the world's "greatest living bridge engineer," even if Triborough Bridge and Tunnel Authority head Robert Moses neglected to pronounce his name out loud.
"Perhaps that was the germ of Trump's story, the rest of which was mostly a confection," Haberman writes.
"Whatever the reasons he seized on this incident and turned it into an origin story, he revealed himself to be an unreliable narrator of his own history from its early moments."
"Confidence Man" features no shortage of revelations about the former president and his time in the White House.
He vowed in the weeks after the 2020 presidential election that he wouldn't leave office, insisting the election had been stolen. His son-in-law and adviser, Jared Kushner, urged pollsters to inflate his numbers, presumably to keep the president on an even keel.
He often feigned prayers for a dying Ruth Bader Ginsburg, the Supreme Court associate justice and feminist icon whose death in 2020 gave Trump the rare chance to fundamentally reshape the country's legal landscape, a precursor to the decision earlier this year to abandon national protections for abortion.
He wanted to wear a Superman T-shirt under his suit when he was released from hospital after a bout of COVID-19, hoping to reveal it, Clark Kent-style, for the benefit of the television cameras.
And his poorly attended rally in Tulsa, Okla., in the summer of 2020, where fears about the pandemic and a social media prank kept more than half the seats empty, infuriated the president and proved the undoing of longtime campaign manager Brad Parscale.
Haberman is among those who believe COVID-19 was the real culprit in Tulsa, not the K-pop fans on TikTok and Twitter who reportedly gobbled up tickets to keep supporters from attending.
"I remember campaign operatives saying to me, 'I just didn't think our people were going to be afraid (of COVID)' — that was pretty striking," Haberman said. But the impact it had on Trump was minimal, she added.
"I think a lot of people just didn't think that it was worth the risk. And so the turning point, I think, was more sort of for those of us on the outside than for Trump himself."
Anyone anxious to know the extent to which Trump will remain an enduring presence, if not at least an influence, in U.S. politics for the foreseeable future would do well to watch next month's midterm elections next month, Haberman said.
It's already abundantly clear he's left deep footprints on the campaign trail.
A number of Trump acolytes are in tight races in battleground states, including self-proclaimed believers in the false claim that Joe Biden was not the legitimate winner in 2020.
A great many of them are running for down-ballot state positions like secretary of state and attorney general, roles that could give them outsized influence over how future elections are conducted.
One of the most prominent Trump allies, former NFL running back Herschel Walker, remains well within striking distance of Democratic incumbent Raphael Warnock in Georgia's Senate race, despite a campaign laced with confusion, conflict and controversy.
"If Herschel Walker survives and wins — and, at minimum, Walker has not been knocked out — I think that's pretty telling," Haberman said.
"I think it will also be telling how election deniers fare in these races, how they handle things going forward in statehouses, and whether these folks who get elected as new members of Congress are going to certify the next election.
"There's a lot of questions for the next two years."
This report by The Canadian Press was first published Oct. 23, 2022.
James McCarten, The Canadian Press
