SIEGE 39 One of McGahn's jobs was to navigate what was possibly the most ; complicated relationship in modern government: he was the effective 3 . point person between the White House and the Department of Justice. 7 Part of his portfolio, then, was to endure the president's constant rage and | bewilderment about why the DOJ was personally hounding him, and his incomprehension that he could do nothing about it. L AWYERS : “Tt’s my Justice Department,’ Trump would tell McGahn, often repeat- ' ing this more than dubious declaration in his signature triad. i Nobody could quite be certain of the number of times McGahn had | had to threaten, with greater or lesser intention, to quit if Trump made good on his threat to fire the attorney general, the deputy attorney gen- eral, or the special counsel. Curiously, one defense against the charge that the president had tried to fire Mueller in June 2017 in an effort to end the : special counsel's investigation—as the New York Times claimed in a Jan- i was a running sweepstakes or office pool for the unhappiest uary 2018 scoop—was the fact that Trump was almost constantly trying person in the White House. Many had held the title, but one of the to fire Mueller or other DOJ figures, doing so often multiple times a day. most frequent winners was White House counsel Don McGahn. He was McGahni’s steadying hand had so far helped avert an ultimate crisis. a constant target for his boss's belittling, mocking, falsetto-voice mimicry, But he had missed or let slip by or simply ignored a number of intemper- and, as well, sweeping disparagements of his purpose and usefulness. ate, unwise, and interfering actions by the president that might, McGahn “This is why we can't have nice things,’ McGahn uttered almost obses- feared, comprise the basis of obstruction charges. Deeply involved with the sively under his breath, quoting the Taylor Swift song to comment on conservative Federalist Society and its campaign for “textualist” judges. whatever