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Roy Cohn, a scurrilous character who emerged on the American scene in the 1950s, was a brilliant attorney with an inexhaustible supply of meanspiritedness. As a young Federal prosecutor, he was instrumental in seeing that Ethel Rosenberg was given a death sentence along with her husband Julius after both were found guilty of spying for the Soviet Union. Cohn went on to gain national attention as chief aide to Sen. Joseph McCarthy, chairman of the Senate Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations, in McCarthy’s zealous search for Communists in the Federal government. Both men’s remorseless disregard for the truth was on full display in 1954’s Army-McCarthy hearings. During the televised proceedings, it was apparent that McCarthy and Cohn had gone too far with their heavy-handed methods in taking on the Defense Department. By year’s end, the disgraced McCarthy had been censured by the Senate and Cohn had returned to private practice in New York.
In a 30-year career in New York, Cohn established himself as the ultimate power broker, fixer, and the confidant of the famous and infamous. He defended Mafia dons and advised politicians. He was close with Ronald and Nancy Reagan. Among his clients, he numbered George Steinbrenner, the owner of the New York Yankees, the Catholic Archdiocese of New York, and the original Teflon Don, Mafia boss John Gotti. His acolytes included a little-known political operative, Roger Stone, and a certain Outer Borough real estate developer, Donald Trump.
Cohn took a scorched earth-take-no-prisoners approach to what euphemistically may be termed the practice of law. All that counted was winning. Ad hominem attacks were standard practice, as was tarring perceived enemies by planting stories in the press. He was not only a fervent anti-Communist but stridently homophobic1 although he was a closeted gay. He crossed the line enough times to be indicted four times for a variety of crimes including perjury, bribery, jury tampering, and obstructing justice. Nothing stuck to the Teflon attorney: he was acquitted 3 times and a fourth trial resulted in a mistrial.
In a 2017 article in Vanity Fair2, journalist Marie Brenner quoted author Sam Roberts’ description of Cohn’s modus operandi:
Roy was a master of situational immorality . . . . He worked with a three-dimensional strategy, which was: 1. Never settle, never surrender. 2. Counter-attack, counter-sue immediately. 3. No matter what happens, no matter how deeply into the muck you get, claim victory and never admit defeat.
Cohn was a man who escaped consequences. Jim Zirin, a former federal prosecutor turned author, wrote that Cohn was “a prototypical Teflon man. The more unscrupulous he became, the more his law practice grew. He was the man to see if you wanted to beat the system.”3
And one person who wanted to beat the system was Donald Trump. In the early 1970s, the Department of Justice sued Trump and his father Fred for racial discrimination in the public housing projects Fred had developed in Brooklyn and Queens. The legal advice the Trumps received was to settle, but Fred was dead-set against it. At an encounter in a club in Manhattan, Donald met Cohn and asked for advice. Cohn told Trump to fight the charge. With Cohn representing them, the Trumps countersued the DoJ for $100 million. The meritless suit was dismissed but the case dragged on for several years. In the end, the Trumps settled the case without admitting guilt.
They claimed victory.
Cohn would go on to not only represent Trump and to mentor him, but significantly, to introduce him to the corrupt politicians and mobsters who could help grease the skids for the ambitious developer. Both men were ambitious, possessed the similar sociopathic trait of believing rules didn’t apply to them, and lied with ease. Neither liked paying their bills and were known as notorious deadbeats. The one difference was that Cohn was intelligent- he was 20 when he graduated from law school- and Trump… Well, not so much.
It is doubtful that introspection or self-reflection was part of either’s psychology. Cohn died of AIDS in 1986, but he never publically admitted being gay, though it wasn’t a well-kept secret. After decades as one of New York’s premier power brokers, he’d been disbarred for unethical and unprofessional conduct, including the misappropriation of clients' funds. He died penniless, owing the IRS so much money that they seized almost everything he owned. Filmmaker Matt Tyrnauer, who presented Cohn’s story in his 2019 documentary, Where’s My Roy Cohn4, observed “He got away with it until he didn’t.”
While Donald Trump is spending four days a week in a chilly Manhattan courtroom, is there any chance Roy Cohn’s ignominious end crosses his mind? Does he believe he is better at this game than Cohn was? Does he see any irony in the fact it was their particular sexual proclivities that came back to haunt them, directly in Cohn’s case, and, in Trump’s case, in the predicate act that eventually led to criminal charges due to a hush money coverup?
It seems clear that in the end, the Teflon wears off. Is this the one lesson Donald Trump never took from Roy Cohn?
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Cohn, along with McCarthy, played a role in the “Lavender Scare” of the 1950s, the effort to purge gays- who were regarded as security risks- from the US government.
James D. Zirin, Plaintiff in Chief: A Portrait of Donald Trump in 3,500 Lawsuits (MacMIllan, 2019)
Nature take care ...