Trump’s record of inaction, incompetence, and inane remarks during the first months of the pandemic has been well documented. Yet he wasn’t merely flailing. He purposefully thwarted official action because of concerns about his own electoral prospects. He resisted an aggressive push for testing because that could yield higher numbers of confirmed coronavirus cases, and he believed that lower levels would be better for his reelection campaign. When Health and Human Services Secretary Alex Azar warned Trump of an impending pandemic in late January, Trump brushed him off as an alarmist. Azar’s message was not in sync with Trump’s decision to discount the coronavirus threat. In late February, Nancy Messonnier, an official at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, publicly said her agency expected widespread transmission and was preparing for a pandemic. Wall Street plunged, and an enraged Trump—who had recently declared that the virus “miraculously goes away” and the situation was “very much under control”—threatened to fire her.
Trump failed to move quickly and impeded a fast and comprehensive response. His self-interest was always paramount—to an absurd extent. He touted the “ratings” his coronavirus press conferences received and devoted more time during these briefings to deflecting responsibility, attacking journalists, and blaming Democratic politicians than to mourning the dead. And his administration oversaw a $2 trillion economic rescue and bailout that was practically designed to facilitate corruption. A huge piece of it was turned over to banks to manage, and the banks rigged the system for preferred customers, which froze out many small businesses, particularly outfits owned by people of color. (In several cases, the funds went to companies—some run by Trump donors—that hardly seemed the most needy.) This package also included a pot of $500 billion for Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin to distribute to large corporations with few strings attached and little public oversight. Democrats justifiably called it a “slush fund.” In a further blow to transparency, Trump ousted the inspector general who was leading the task force assigned to monitor this relief package. (This move was part of the war on IGs waged by Trump, who has sought watchdogs that are loyal to him, not the goal of corruption-busting.)
Trump’s attitude toward the federal government at the start of the pandemic—it’s all about me—was an extension of the rampant and more conventional corruption that’s defined his regime. Once Trump, the longtime narcissistic pitchman, entered the White House, he viewed the government as an expansion of his own business ventures and personal brand and showed not a whit of concern for rules, norms, and constitutional provisions that had been established to hinder corruption. He brazenly ignored the emoluments clause of the Constitution, which prohibits a president from accepting payments from foreign entities. His properties—particularly the Trump hotel in Washington, DC—became favorite spots for overseas visitors, including government officials, to stay, hold events, and wine and dine. This placed money into Trump’s bank account. (Ivanka Trump, who owns a big piece of the Washington hotel, also bags millions of dollars a year from its revenue.) Here was an easy way for foreign governments, Washington lobbyists, wannabe players, and others seeking preferential treatment and policies from Trump and his administration to engage in what amounts to legal bribery. In 2018, Trump reported income from at least 11 foreign countries. Several countries, including China, have granted Trump and Ivanka valuable trademarks—with one for Ivanka covering voting machines.