You're So Vain, You Probably Think Kash Patel Hates You

Yahoo

29-01-2025

These days in Washington, D.C., among a class of Extremely Beltway types—the name droppers, the strivers, the media gossips—Donald Trump's threats to exact revenge on his enemies have turned into a highly specific (and highly absurd) status competition.
Olivia Troye has heard the joke so many times that she already has a well-worn comeback prepared. When nervous journalists and teasing D.C. types crack to Troye—a lifelong Republican who served as former Vice President Mike Pence's homeland-security adviser before becoming an outspoken Trump critic—that they might end up in adjoining Guantánamo Bay cells, she responds: 'I had the Gitmo portfolio, so I can give you some tips.'
In a moment of deep uncertainty in the nation's capital, where Trump took office promising vengeance but where the scope of his intentions remains nebulous, many of Trump's known critics have unofficially divided into two adjacent camps: those, like Troye, who have real reason to be alarmed by the president's threats and are quietly taking steps to protect themselves and their family, and those who are loudly—and often facetiously—chattering about how Trump and his posse might throw them in a gulag. (There are also those in Trump's orbit who are joking, one hopes, about whom they might throw in the hypothetical gulag.)
Whereas many of those branded most prominently with the scarlet R of Resistance are now eager to stay out of Trump's sight line, other figures in Washington are actively self-identifying as could-be Trump targets, in a very D.C. show of importance. And often the people talking openly about getting thrown in a gulag likely aren't even important enough for the gulag.
At one of the many swanky parties in the run-up to Trump's second inauguration, a White House reporter confessed to me that during a recent meeting in outgoing White House Chief of Staff Jeff Zients's office, the reporter had—mainly in jest—asked to get on the list for a preemptive pardon. In his final The Late Show episode during the Biden administration, Stephen Colbert also played with the gag, telling his audience, 'The next time you all see me, Donald Trump will be president. And you may not see me! Next four years—next four years, we're taking this one day at a time.'
If the classic 'D.C. read' is scanning a book's index for one's own name and frantically flipping to the listed pages, then even a mention in Appendix B ('Executive Branch Deep State') of Government Gangsters, written by Trump's pick for FBI chief, Kash Patel, can serve as a status symbol in certain circles.
[Read: The sound of fear on air]
'For a lot of people, it's a joke that is a thinly disguised flex—it's joking about how important you are,' Tommy Vietor, a co-host of Pod Save America who has been on the receiving end of such jokes many times, told me. 'It's sort of become a standard greeting in a lot of circles: 'See you in the gulags.' 'I hope we get the nice gulag.''
'Then every once in a while,' he added, 'someone makes that joke to someone who is actually scared or has hired a lawyer, and it's not so funny.'
Tim Miller, a former Republican turned ardent Trump critic who writes for The Bulwark, told me that he not only regularly hears the joke but also sometimes finds himself 'reflexively making it,' the way remarking on the weather is an almost involuntary conversational crutch. 'And then after I do, just clarifying that I don't actually think I'm going to the gulag and that there are people who are at real risk from this administration, and we should probably focus on that,' he said.
On Inauguration Day, President Joe Biden issued a handful of preemptive pardons that included five members of his family, lawmakers on the January 6 House committee, and people Trump had threatened, including Anthony Fauci, the nation's top public-health expert during the coronavirus pandemic, and retired General Mark Milley, whom Trump floated the idea of executing after The Atlantic published a profile of him. Others who have attracted Trump's ire have both publicly and privately lamented that they were not on Biden's pardon list.
Rachel Vindman, the wife of Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Vindman—who testified before Congress about a 2019 call between Trump and the Ukrainian president during which Trump asked him to investigate Biden's son Hunter—posted on social media after Biden's pardons emerged, 'Whatever happens to my family, know this: No pardons were offered or discussed. I cannot begin to describe the level of betrayal and hurt I feel.' Her husband appears in Patel's appendix.
[Read: In praise of mercy]
In the early weeks of his second presidency, Trump has spoken ambiguously about plans to punish his perceived enemies, though he has already taken steps to root out those in the government he believes are part of the anti-Trump 'deep state.' In some ways, the list in Patel's book is instructive. The appendix mentions prominent figures whom Trump has already put on notice or begun targeting: Biden ('the funny thing—maybe the sad thing,' Trump noted in his first post-inauguration interview, with the Fox News host Sean Hannity, is that Biden failed to pardon himself); Trump's former national security adviser John Bolton (within hours of taking office, Trump pulled U.S. Secret Service protection from Bolton, who faces threats on his life from Iran); and Fauci (last week Trump also terminated Fauci's security detail). Yet the list also mentions people such as Elizabeth Dibble and Nellie Ohr, alleged deep staters who are hardly household names and whose alleged offenses are too complicated and obscure to quickly explain.
Patel also previously shared on social media a meme that featured him wielding a chainsaw and buzzing off chunks of a log emblazoned with images of alleged enemies, ranging from 'Fake News,' CNN, and MSNBC to people such as Biden, the former Republican lawmaker Liz Cheney, and Representative Nancy Pelosi, the former Democratic House speaker.
Just before Election Day, the longtime Trump fundraiser Caroline Wren shared an X post from an Arizona reporter, writing, 'He should be the first journalist sent to the gulag.' She later said she was joking. Mike Davis, one of Trump's most vocal outside legal defenders, has led the unofficial social-media brigade threatening to toss reporters and other perceived enemies into the 'gulag,' statements he described to The Washington Post as a 'troll' to nettle the left.
But now that Trump, back in the Oval Office, continues to display a willingness to punish those who have crossed him, this sort of declaration from Trump allies can take on a more menacing edge. On Inauguration Day, Davis unleashed more than a dozen posts on X that, depending on the perspective, could be read as trolls or threats. 'Dear Congress: We need a supplemental to feed the Vindmans in federal prison,' he wrote in one. 'Dear Tony Fauci: Roll the dice. Decline the pardon. And see what happens,' read another. And in a third, using a format he repeated for many of Trump's enemies, he addressed Biden's former Homeland Security secretary by name, writing, 'Dear Alejandro Mayorkas: No pardons for you and your staff?'
'Nobody is above the law,' Davis said, when I called to ask him about his public posts. 'If they've done nothing wrong, they have nothing to worry about, and if they've done nothing wrong, why did they need a pardon?'
Some of those squarely in the sights of Trump and his allies have begun taking steps to protect themselves. Troye, for instance, has retained a lawyer, and recently made sure that she and her family members had up-to-date passports. Rachel Vindman, meanwhile, told me that she and her family moved from Virginia to Florida two years ago—uprooting their daughter in the middle of sixth grade—in part because they 'wanted to live somewhere a little bit more anonymous.' (She was also, she added, ready to leave the D.C. bubble and eager for a 'fresh start.')
[Read: Trump's first shot in his war on the 'deep state']
In many ways, the fear that the mere prospect of retribution has struck in Trump's opponents—prompting them to hire personal security or nervously bluster about the gulags—could be victory enough for MAGA world. After winning reelection, Trump posted on social media a list of out-of-favor individuals and groups—including 'Americans for No Prosperity,' 'Dumb as a Rock' John Bolton, and Pence, his former vice president—and said that prospective administration hires should not bother applying if they had worked with or were endorsed by anyone on the list.
'That's the financial gulag,' one person told me, speaking anonymously because he has worked for three of the people or entities on Trump's list, and doesn't want his business to be blackballed. 'It's not quite a gulag, but it does have a chilling effect.'
Similarly, those who did not receive pardons from Biden worry about the financially daunting task of protecting themselves. 'Did you not think of the people who are about to get destroyed, who defend themselves, who have no congressional coverage, who are not politicians, who are not millionaires, who don't have dozens of PACs that are protecting them?' Troye asked. 'There are people who worked on government salaries.' (A Biden spokesperson declined to comment on Biden's relatively selective set of pardons.)
Vindman, who lived in Russia for several years, said that although no one knows exactly what to expect in Trump's second term, her experience in Moscow might offer a glimpse: Colleagues policed themselves, and other Russians proactively took actions they believed would please Russian President Vladimir Putin.
'It was never a direct ask,' she told me. 'It was a more tacit thing.'
[Read: Trump targets his own government]
Vindman, who has friends who regularly check in on her, said she spent Election Night wide awake. Her husband was in Virginia with his twin brother, Eugene Vindman, a Democrat the state's suburban voters elected to the House, and the task of telling her daughter that Trump had won fell to her. 'The hardest part of that was laying in bed awake, worrying,' she said. 'She's in eighth grade, and maybe the last four years of her with us will be marred by that, by this harassment.'
When, over the Thanksgiving holiday, Trump's close ally Elon Musk accused Alexander Vindman of 'treason,' warning that 'he will pay the appropriate penalty,' Rachel Vindman told me that her immediate concern was for her in-laws and her 98-year-old grandmother, who heard the comment and worried on her family's behalf.
But personally, Vindman said she is working to find daily joy and maintain a sense of normalcy for herself and her family. Her husband recently turned his masters thesis into a book, The Folly of Realism, coming out at the end of February. When I asked her if she ever considered urging him not to publish, because it would thrust their family back into public view, she was emphatic: 'Do you just say no to it because it might anger them or put you in the spotlight?' she asked. 'It's that kind of quiet defiance of living your life.'
'It could be a mistake. I guess we'll never know.' She paused, then added, 'Well, I guess we will know.'
Article originally published at The Atlantic