woensdag 21 december 2016

Donald Trump and the Mob



Afbeeldingsresultaat voor logo the wall street journal


Donald Trump and the Mob

His real-estate developments in Atlantic City and New York brought the GOP nominee into regular contact with people who had ties to organized crime; he says he’s ‘the cleanest guy there is’

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Donald Trump’s real-estate developments in Atlantic City and New York led him to deal with members of organized crime and people like the late Robert LiButti, a racehorse trader and gambler. WSJ’s Michael Rothfeld joins Lunch Break to discuss. Photo: Getty
In 1981, a young and ambitious Donald Trump sat down with federal agents and discussed his calculation in entering the mob-infested world of Atlantic City casinos.
He acknowledged it might tarnish the reputation his family built through traditional real-estate development in New York. He was aware a business partner in the New Jersey beach town knew people who might be unsavory. A Federal Bureau of Investigation agent advised Mr. Trump there were easier ways he could invest, said an FBI memo recounting the discussion.
There, as well as in his New York real-estate work, Mr. Trump, now the Republican nominee for president, sometimes dealt with people who had ties to organized crime, a Wall Street Journal examination of his career shows.
They included a man described by law enforcement as an agent of the Philadelphia mob; a gambler convicted of tax fraud and barred from New York racetracks; a union leader found guilty of racketeering; and a real-estate developer convicted in a stock scheme that involved several Mafiosi.
With one exception, these associations were long ago. Still, in the home stretch of Mr. Trump’s run for the presidency, he frequently cites his lucrative business career as a qualification for the nation’s highest office, and his past associations color that record.
Mr. Trump acknowledged in an interview he worked at times with people who might have had such ties, but said he either had only cursory relationships with them or wasn’t aware of the ties at the time.
“If people were like me, there would be no mob, because I don’t play that game,” Mr. Trump said. He called himself “the cleanest guy there is.”
Like many in the construction, real estate and gambling worlds three or four decades ago, especially those who built in Atlantic City and New York, Mr. Trump sometimes had to choose whether or not to deal with figures who had sketchy backgrounds.
Mr. Trump opened the opulent Taj Mahal casino in Atlantic City, N.J., in April 1990.
Mr. Trump opened the opulent Taj Mahal casino in Atlantic City, N.J., in April 1990.PHOTO: MIKE DERER/ASSOCIATED PRESS
People in the industry say those moments were unavoidable in the days when unions representing construction workers and supply deliverers were controlled by organized crime, which also had a presence in the casino world. That didn’t mean the developers sought out those relationships—much less that they themselves were gangsters.
Mr. Trump “wasn’t going to build Trump Tower without having those connections. Every builder in New York had to do that at that time,” said Michael Cody, the son of a mob-linked union leader Mr. Trump and other builders dealt with.
Some developers avoided working directly with unsavory figures by operating through a general contractor. Mr. Trump said he preferred to negotiate business matters personally, because he made more money that way.
Referring to a concrete contracting firm that law enforcement said was affiliated with one of New York’s Mafia families, Mr. Trump said: “That was a major contractor. You hear stories that they may have been [mob-controlled].
“In the meantime, I was a builder. I was never going to run for office.… I’d go by the lowest bid and I’d go by their track record, but I didn’t do a personal history of who they are.”
Many of the associations the Journal explored have been previously reported piecemeal. In the early 1990s, Mr. Trump’s license to operate casinos in Atlantic City was re-examined after a book by reporter Wayne Barrett alleged a number of organized-crime connections. New Jersey officials determined Mr. Trump remained eligible.
In its own examination, the Journal reviewed thousands of pages of legal and corporate documents and interviewed dozens of Mr. Trump’s business associates.
The gambling business now is largely corporate, but at the time when Atlantic City was newly opened to casinos and a family friend suggested Mr. Trump build there, many banks shunned the industry.
“Any project in the gaming arena in general is a difficult project to finance, because of the natural prohibition that a lot of institutions have,” Mr. Trump told New Jersey casino regulators in 1982.
Some of the people he dealt with in Atlantic City illustrate why the FBI agent counseled caution.
Kenneth Shapiro owned part of a site where Mr. Trump wanted to build his first casino. Mr. Shapiro was a Philadelphia scrap-metal dealer and property investor, described by law enforcement as an “agent” of Philadelphia mob boss Nicodemo “Little Nicky” Scarfo.
A co-owner of the site was Daniel Sullivan, a gregarious six-foot-five Teamster and labor consultant with a criminal record that included a weapons violation. “He knew a lot of organized-crime figures and they knew him,” said Walter Stowe, a former FBI agent.
Mr. Sullivan also was a tipster to the FBI. Gangsters “knew he was an informant. I don’t know why nobody ever tried to kill him,” Mr. Stowe said.
Mr. Trump negotiated with Messrs. Shapiro and Sullivan, now both dead, to lease their property. “They are not bad people from what I see,” Mr. Trump said at a regulatory hearing in 1982. His project nonetheless faced obstacles because of their involvement.
Mr. Sullivan, Mr. Trump and another partner had a deal to acquire an interest in a drywall company. New Jersey casino regulators told Mr. Trump any dealings with Mr. Sullivan beyond the property lease could delay casino licensing. He backed out of the drywall deal.
When the hotel-casino was near completion, the regulators said Messrs. Shapiro and Sullivan might need casino licenses too, as site owners, but could have trouble getting them. Eventually, Mr. Trump bought the two out.
Mr. Trump also used Mr. Sullivan as an adviser on New York labor issues. These included a 1980 dispute over the use of undocumented Polish workers to demolish the Bonwit Teller store on Fifth Avenue to make way for Trump Tower, Mr. Sullivan said in lawsuit testimony. Mr. Trump, in testimony of his own, said he didn’t know there were undocumented workers at the site.
Mr. Trump told the Journal he knew Mr. Sullivan and considered him “OK” because he traveled with FBI agents. He said he didn’t know of any underworld connection Mr. Shapiro might have had.
Mr. Shapiro was a conduit the Scarfo crime family used to buy influence with Atlantic City’s then-mayor, Michael J. Matthews,according to a 1984 indictment of the mayor. The late Mr. Matthews pleaded guilty to extortion. Mr. Scarfo, now in prison, didn’t agree to an interview.
Mr. Trump, as a casino owner, couldn’t legally contribute to the local politicians who controlled such matters as zoning and signs. Mr. Shapiro told a federal grand jury he secretly gave thousands of dollars to the mayor on Mr. Trump’s behalf, said people familiar with his account.
“Donald was always trying to maneuver politically to get things done,” said Mr. Shapiro’s brother Barry Shapiro.
Kenneth Shapiro said he never was reimbursed for the money given to the mayor, according to his brother and two other people. “Donald just reneged; that’s his automatic thing,” Barry Shapiro said.
Asked about this, Mr. Trump said he didn’t make contributions to the Atlantic City mayor. “I’m not interested in giving cash, OK?...The last thing I’m doing is now handing cash.”
As for Mr. Shapiro, “I never remember him asking me for money. He was always straight with me...I didn’t know Shapiro well other than to know that we did a pretty small little land transaction down in Atlantic City, which was fine.”
A major profit source at one Trump casino was a racehorse trader named Robert LiButti. His gambling losses earned Trump Plaza $11 million between 1986 and 1989, state documents show.
Mr. LiButti had been convicted of tax fraud related to horse sales in 1977 and was barred from attending races in New York for trying to conceal his horse ownership. A Trump employee told New Jersey regulators that Mr. LiButti repeatedly invoked the name of gangster John Gotti and called him “my boss,” according to a 1991 state investigative report.
“LiButti was a high-roller in Atlantic City,” Mr. Trump said in an interview. “I found him to be a nice guy. But I had nothing to do with him.”
Jack O’Donnell, who ran Trump Plaza in the late 1980s, said, “It isn’t like [Mr. Trump] saw LiButti once or twice—he spent time with him, saw him multiple times,” and even attended a birthday party for Mr. LiButti’s daughter.
The daughter declined to be interviewed but confirmed to Yahoo News that Mr. Trump attended a birthday party for her.
It was illegal in New Jersey for casinos to keep high-rollers happy by giving them cash gifts. Regulators, in a ruling that didn’t cite Mr. Trump personally, fined Trump Plaza for funneling Mr. LiButti $1.65 million via gifts of expensive cars quickly converted into cash.
Mr. Trump agreed in 1988 to buy a horse from Mr. LiButti for $250,000, Mr. O’Donnell said in a book he wrote after quitting Trump Plaza. The horse, named D.J. Trump, had cost the LiButti family just $90,000 a year earlier, according to Blood Horse magazine. Mr. O’Donnell said Mr. Trump aborted the deal after the horse had a health problem.
Mr. Trump didn’t respond to questions about the horse and the birthday party.
Mr. LiButti, who died in 2014, denied to casino regulators that he had links to organized crime.
For legal help Mr. Trump often looked to Roy Cohn, seen on the right here in 1984.
For legal help Mr. Trump often looked to Roy Cohn, seen on the right here in 1984.PHOTO: BETTMANN ARCHIVE/GETTY IMAGES
A lawyer Mr. Trump relied on and socialized with in his early years was the hard-driving attorney Roy Cohn. Among Mr. Cohn’s clients were several gangsters, including Anthony “Fat Tony” Salerno, co-owner of a concrete company important to New York builders. Former Trump Organization executive Barbara Res said that during heated negotiations with contractors, Mr. Trump would pull out a photo of Mr. Cohn and say, “I’m not afraid to sue you and this is who my lawyer is.”
Mr. Trump called that “totally false.” He said people in the construction industry “don’t get scared by holding up a picture.”
Mr. Trump was a character witness for Mr. Cohn in proceedings that led to the lawyer’s disbarment shortly before his death in 1986.
Mr. Cohn had many clients who, like Mr. Trump, weren’t mob-affiliated, such as the late Yankees owner George Steinbrenner. “Roy was a great lawyer if he wanted to be,” Mr. Trump said in an interview.
Messrs. Cohn and Trump had a common associate in Teamsters official John A. Cody. Mr. Cody had a lengthy arrest record and was close to mob bosses Carlo Gambino and Paul Castellano, according to a Justice Department memo from 1982, when Mr. Cody was convicted of racketeering.
Mr. Cody led a powerful union local that represented drivers who delivered cement to New York construction sites.
When he called a strike, Mr. Trump still received cement for Trump Tower, said Mr. Cody’s son, Michael.
“My father wasn’t that generous, unless there was a reason,” Michael Cody said.
Referring to John Cody, Mr. Trump said, “Part of the reason I got my concrete was I didn’t put up with his bull—.”
Mr. Trump said he would bring in private cement deliverers, or threaten to. The Teamsters people “knew I didn’t play games. When I said, ‘OK, I’m going private.’... ten minutes later I’d get a phone call [saying] ‘Well, all right, we’re going to approve you. It’s settled.”
Mr. Cody was “truly a bad dude,” Mr. Trump said. “I employed a lot Teamsters, and this guy would absolutely make life miserable and…I would fight through it.” Many developers in New York had to deal with Mr. Cody to get cement, and Mr. Trump said they all hated him.
John Cody is dead, as are Messrs. Gambino and Castellano.
Mr. Trump with Bayrock Group’s Tevfik Arif and Felix Sater at a 2007 launch party for the Trump SoHo condo hotel.
Mr. Trump with Bayrock Group’s Tevfik Arif and Felix Sater at a 2007 launch party for the Trump SoHo condo hotel. PHOTO: MARK VON HOLDEN/WIREIMAGE/GETTY IMAGES
In the 2000s, Mr. Trump dealt with another figure who had gangland ties. It happened when a small real-estate firm called Bayrock Group rented space in Trump Tower, two floors below Mr. Trump’s offices, and negotiated deals with Mr. Trump to put his name on buildings and give him equity in them. One person Mr. Trump worked with at Bayrock was Felix Sater.
In the early 1990s, well before Mr. Trump knew him, the Russian-born Mr. Sater was a stockbroker but lost his license and went to prison after he jabbed a margarita glass into a man’s face in a bar fight.
Later in the 1990s, Mr. Sater was involved in a Mafia-linked scheme to pump up marginal stocks, dump them on unsuspecting investors and stash the profits abroad. The scheme relied on gangsters from three mob families for protection, said a Justice Department news release. It quoted the New York police commissioner at the time as saying the operation could have been called “Goodfellas Meet the Boiler Room.”
Mr. Sater pleaded guilty to racketeering, cooperated with prosecutors and had his conviction sealed. It was then, around 2000, that he joined Bayrock and sometimes dealt with Mr. Trump on real estate.
Bayrock’s projects included the Trump SoHo condos in New York and Trump International Hotel & Tower in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. Its marketing in Fort Lauderdale included a letter in which Mr. Trump said, “This magnificent oceanfront resort offers the finest and most luxurious experience I have ever created.”
The New York Times described Mr. Sater’s criminal history in an article in 2007. Mr. Trump, giving a court deposition days later, said he was unaware of it until then.
Two federal press releases in 2000 had referred to Mr. Sater’s past, one from the National Association of Securities Dealers and one from the Justice Department. The Justice Department one announced the indictment of 19 people in the pump-and-dump stock scheme Mr. Sater was part of, including several it identified as members of La Cosa Nostra.
The Justice Department release said a Genovese crime-family soldier, Ernest “Butch” Montevecchi, had protected Mr. Sater from an extortion effort.
Mr. Montevecchi declined to comment.
In a 2009 court proceeding, Mr. Sater described the Bayrock real-estate business, which is no longer active, as one he “built with my own two hands” and where he was probably the No. 2 person. In an interview, Mr. Sater said he had atoned for his crimes by cooperating with the government in the pump-and-dump case and on national-security matters. He declined to answer questions about Mr. Trump.
Alan Garten, general counsel of the Trump Organization, said that in business deals the organization vets a partner company and its ownership, but not the company’s employees, which Mr. Sater was. He added that since Mr. Sater’s racketeering conviction was sealed, it would be unfair to “go back and say, ‘Well, you should have known.’ ”
In 2010, well after Mr. Trump had learned of Mr. Sater’s criminal background, the Trump Organization allowed Mr. Sater to be an unpaid consultant, with space in Trump Organization offices and business cards calling him a “Senior Advisor to Donald Trump.”
In an interview, Mr. Trump said, “I just said, ‘Hey, if you have a good deal bring it up.’ He actually brought me two deals and I didn’t like them.”
Mr. Trump said Mr. Sater appeared meek and mild, and Mr. Trump didn’t see him as being connected to the mob. Dealing with gangsters is “not my thing,” he said.
“When you have those relationships, in the end, you lose,” Mr. Trump said. “You can solve some problems short term, but long term, you’ve got a disaster.”

The Many Times Donald Trump Has Lied About His Mob Connections





The Many Times Donald Trump Has Lied About His Mob Connections

He apparently lied under oath to deny he associated with organized crime figures.


SEP. 23, 2016 5:00 AM

Last week, media coverage of Donald Trump may have hit an inflection point, when major news outlets, while covering Trump's latest birther shenanigans, characterized the GOP presidential nominee's remarks as a lie. Though Trump has scored more pants-on-fire false statements than any other candidate in this campaign, mainstream news outlets have struggled over whether and how to use the L-word when reporting on him. 
With this birther-driven breakthrough in coverage, there now remain plenty of brazenly untrue assertions—deliberate lies or not—uttered by Trump that warrant close examination. 
One topic ripe for such scrutiny is Trump's associations with organized crime. For years during his business career, Trump worked or associated with proven or alleged mobsters. (Trump's longtime lawyer, the thuggish and deceased Roy Cohn, repped numerous Mafia bosses, some of whom were connected to Trump projects.
Yet when asked about his links to the mob, Trump has repeatedly made false comments and has contradicted himself—to such a degree it seems he has flat-out lied about these relationships, even when he was under oath.
If elected president, Trump would be in charge of federal law enforcement. So his attitude toward the mob could well be deemed a highly significant campaign issue—as could his long record of not telling the truth about his ties to organized crime. Here are some of the strongest examples of when Trump has spoken falsely on this matter.
The time Trump falsely denied in a deposition that he associated with any mob associates: In 2005, journalist Timothy O'Brien published a book on Trump, TrumpNation: The Art of Being the Donald, in which he referenced an already established fact: that in the early 1980s Trump began his casino empire in Atlantic City, New Jersey, by leasing property owned by Kenneth Shapiro and Daniel Sullivan. 
Shapiro, O'Brien wrote, was a "street-level gangster with close ties to the Philadelphia mob," and Sullivan was a "Mafia associate, FBI informant and labor negotiator." (Trump also had obtained Sullivan's assistance when he had trouble with undocumented Polish workers who were demolishing the Bonwit Teller building in Manhattan to make way for Trump Tower.)
After the book came out, Trump sued O'Brien for libel and requested $5 billion in damages—not for O'Brien's reporting on Trump's connection to these mob-linked guys, but for the reporter's assertion that the self-proclaimed billionaire was actually only worth between $150 million and $250 million. 
In 2007—two years before a New Jersey judge tossed out the case—Trump was questioned during a deposition. Over the course of the two-day-long interrogation, Trump was forced repeatedly to acknowledge having made false statements. And at one point, a lawyer for O'Brien and his publisher asked Trump a straightforward question: "Have you ever before associated with individuals you knew were associated with organized crime?"
Trump, who was testifying under oath, answered, "Not that I know of."
That was a clear and unequivocal response. But it was not true. Two years earlier, O'Brien had interviewed Trump and specifically asked him about Sullivan and Shapiro. O'Brien, now an editor and writer at Bloomberg, has provided Mother Jones with a transcript of the interview, and it conclusively shows that Trump believed that these two men were associated with organized crime:
Trump: They were tough guys. In fact, they say that Dan Sullivan was the guy that killed Jimmy Hoffa. I don't know if you ever heard that.
O'Brien: I have heard that. And that he was, you know…
Trump: A lot of people say
O'Brien: What I heard about both of them, and that anybody who wanted to get anything done down there [in Atlantic City], that if you wanted to deal with labor you had to deal with Sullivan, if you wanted to deal with politics you had to deal with Shapiro.
Trump: That was only in their imagination.
O'Brien: So that wasn't true?
Trump: Yeah, it was really bullshit. But, but they were tough guys. And not good guys.
O'Brien: How do you handle people like that?
Trump: I just was able to handle them. And I, really, I was able to handle them. I found Sullivan to be the tougher of the two. I started hearing reports about Sullivan, that he killed Jimmy Hoffa....
O'Brien: Weren't you worried about (1) getting screwed over (2) would you be able to hold on to the whole thing yourself (3) any kind of reputational risk given that they were tough guys?
Trump: I wasn't worried because I felt I could handle it, but I felt I'd get a partner. But getting a partner wasn't easy. And reputational, I didn't want to have anything to do with those guys because I had heard bad, I had heard good and bad. Sullivan was like a con man and he would convince you that he's virtually working for the FBI. You know, he'd always, and ultimately he was sent to jail on income tax evasion and it was the FBI that testified against him.
O'Brien: What was Shapiro like?
Trump: He was like a third-rate, local, real estate mob guy. Nothing spectacular. And I, you know, I got lucky. I heard a rumor that Sullivan, because Sullivan was a great con man, I heard a rumor that Sullivan killed Jimmy Hoffa. And because I heard that rumor I kept my guard up. You know, I said, "Hey, I don't want to be friends with this guy."
So here was Trump connecting Sullivan to the Hoffa murder and calling Shapiro a "mob guy." And though Trump told O'Brien that he didn't want to be friends with Sullivan, he did explore investing in a drywall company with Sullivan. (Trump backed out of the deal so that he wouldn't complicate his application for a casino license in New Jersey.) After New Jersey regulators in 1982 granted Trump that casino license, they compelled the real estate mogul to buy the property that he had leased from Shapiro and Sullivan because of their backgrounds. Shapiro later told a federal grand jury that he had illegally funneled thousands of dollars to the Atlantic City mayor on Trump's behalf—a charge Trump denied.
Trump was well aware that Sullivan and Shapiro were mobbed up, yet in the 2007 deposition he stated he had never associated with persons with such ties. He appears to have lied under oath in this instance.
The Trump campaign did not respond to a request for comment regarding Trump's 2007 deposition statements and other remarks he has made over the years related to his interactions with mob associates.
The time Trump told Tim Russert he had nothing to do with organized crime figures: In the fall of 1999, Donald Trump renounced his Republican Party membership and declared he was considering running for president the following year on the Reform Party ticket. His exploratory bid would last only a few months. But during that stretch, he appeared on Meet the Press, and moderator Tim Russert asked Trump about his ties to organized crime. Trump cut him off to insist he had no such connections (despite his previous dealings with Sullivan, Shapiro, and others linked to the mob). Here's the exchange:
Russert: Another book written suggested that because you are in the construction business, because you're in the casino business, you've had relations with members of organized crime.
Trump: False. I mean—you know, the funny thing about the casino business, in particular in Atlantic City, as an example, you have to go through a very brilliant casino control system. Every check you write, every deal you make, even outside of Atlantic City. I'm talking if I build a building in New York I send in papers as to who's building it, who's the concrete people, etc., etc. Everything I do is under scrutiny. And one of the things different, I think, about me is that my life has been, Tim, a very, very open book. More so than virtually any politician that you interview on Sundays.
Russert pressed on:
Russert: But you've never had to meet with, to do business with any organized figure in order to build buildings or do…
Trump: I never have had to, and, to be honest with you, being a celebrity at a very high level is a good thing. Because they sort of—and they're—I'm not saying the mob doesn't exist. But they want to keep it low. They want to really keep it low. The last thing they want to do is meet with Donald Trump and have 500 paparazzi taking pictures. The answer is no. And I think, in that way—and I must tell you, I think, in that way, celebrity has been a positive for me.
Trump neglected to mention that he got his start in Atlantic City via a business deal with Shapiro and Sullivan. Nor did he refer to working with a cement company owned by Mafia chieftains and with a mob-linked union official when he was building Trump Tower. 
But eight months earlier, when he was not making moves to run for president, Trump did clearly state that he had in the past done business with organized crime figures. Talking to the Associated Press about his Miss USA pageant, Trump remarked, "Usually, I build buildings. I have to deal with the unions, the mob, some of the roughest men you've ever seen in your life. I come here and see these incredible beauties. It's a lot of fun."
So while discussing his hot-shot life, Trump practically boasted that as a builder he had to handle organized crime tough guys. As a possible presidential candidate, he claimed he had nothing to do with the mob. Only one of these statements can be true.
The time Trump said he couldn't recall a mobbed-up criminal who worked for his company: Last December, Trump was asked by a reporter about a man named Felix Sater who had once been involved in a Mafia-linked stock swindle. "Felix Sater, boy, I have to even think about it," Trump answered. "I'm not that familiar with him." Not that familiar? Sater had worked with the Trump Organization, and Trump had been questioned about Sater in at least three depositions, including the 2007 deposition in Trump's failed lawsuit against Timothy O'Brien.
Sater had not been mentioned in O'Brien's book. But two days before the deposition, the New York Times revealed that Sater was doing business with Trump. The newspaper noted that Sater was something of a mysterious figure with a criminal past, and it reported:
A federal complaint brought against him in a 1998 money laundering and stock manipulation case was filed in secret and remains under seal. A subsequent indictment in March 2000 stemming from the same investigation described Mr. Sater as an "unindicted co-conspirator" and a key figure in a $40 million scheme involving 19 stockbrokers and organized crime figures from four Mafia families.
Sater, according to the Times, also "became embroiled in a plan to buy anti-aircraft missiles on the black market for the Central Intelligence Agency in either Russia or Afghanistan, depending on which of his former associates is telling the story." The newspaper reported that he was now working for the Bayrock Group, "a partner in the Trump SoHo, a sleek, 46-story glass tower condominium hotel under construction on a newly fashionable section of Spring Street."
It was certainly a story to receive much notice in New York: an arms-dealing, Mafia-connected man of international mystery in cahoots with the city's most famous developer. Naturally, O'Brien's lawyer asked Trump about him, and Trump said he had only had "limited" interactions with Sater. "Have you severed your ties with the Bayrock Group as a result of this?" Trump was asked. He replied, "Well, I'm looking into it, because I wasn't happy with the story." He added, "people that were trying to find things out about [Sater] have been unable to."
Trump did not sever ties with Sater and the Bayrock Group. In fact, the following year Trump's lawyers asked Sater to testify in Trump's lawsuit against O'Brien. And two years after that, Sater officially joined the Trump Organization as a"senior advisor": he was provided Trump Organization business cards and office space. Last year, a Trump lawyer said Sater had searched for high-end real estate deals for Trump's company. Sater, who was born in the Soviet Union and later was a US government informant on organized crime and national security cases, has claimed that he met regularly with Trump and discussed deals in Los Angles, Ukraine, and China and that in 2006 he escorted Donald Trump Jr. and Ivanka Trump when the two Trump children visited Moscow.
Trump was asked about Sater in depositions related to other cases in 2011 and 2013. In the first, Trump acknowledged that he used to speak to Sater "for a period of time." Yet in the second, he said, "if he were sitting in the room right now, I really wouldn't know what he looked like." Last year ABC News reported, "Trump and Sater can be seen together in photographs attending a Denver business conference in 2005, and the two men posed on stage together at the 2007 launch party for the Trump SoHo Hotel and Condominium project."
Sater, who served prison time in the United States for a 1991 first-degree assault in which he stabbed a man in the face with a broken glass, was at first a PR headache for Trump but then became a senior adviser within Trump's company. And Trump has had to answer questions about him in several serious legal proceedings. So how could he have said he was not familiar with him?
The time Trump denied knowing a mobster who threatened to castrate him: In 1991, the Philadelphia Inquirer asked Trump about Robert LiButti, a famous horse breeder and high-stakes gambler with ties to infamous Mafia boss John Gotti. 
At the time, New Jersey regulators were investigating allegations that the Trump Plaza casino had repeatedly removed women and African Americans from craps tables after LiButti griped about their presence while playing. "I have heard he is a high roller, but if he was standing here in front of me, I wouldn't know what he looked like," Trump told the newspaper. 
And when Yahoo News in March asked Trump about this 1991 inquiry that resulted in a $200,000 fine, Trump responded, "During the years I very successfully ran the casino business, I knew many high rollers. I assume Mr. LiButti was one of them, but I don't recognize the name."
There's reason to believe Trump was fibbing in both instances. As Yahoo Newsreported:
Edith Creamer, LiButti's daughter, told Yahoo News in two recent telephone interviews that Trump's account was false and that Trump and her father knew each other quite well. "He's a liar," said Creamer. "Of course he knew him. I flew in the [Trump] helicopter with [Trump's then-wife] Ivana and the kids. My dad flew it up and down [to Atlantic City]. My 35th birthday party was at the Plaza and Donald was there. After the party, we went on his boat, his big yacht. I like Trump, but it pisses me off that he denies knowing my father. That hurts me.
The Yahoo News story by Michael Isikoff pointed out that a 1991 book written by John O'Donnell, the former president of the Trump Plaza casino, described a 1988 meeting between Trump and LiButti aboard Trump's private helicopter. During this flight, according to O'Donnell, Trump discussed buying a racehorse for $500,000 from LiButti. Isikoff also obtained the full transcript of a wiretapped meeting in 1990 between LiButti and a top Trump executive in which LiButti made numerous references to his conversations with Trump and recounted an occasion when Trump personally handed him a check after he lost $350,000 at the craps table. (It was a supposedly a gift to keep LiButti happy so he would continue gambling at the Trump Plaza—and Trump has denied this occurred.) Speaking about Trump's romantic life, then much in the news, LiButti said, "He's lost that aggressiveness…Walks around like a f***ing banana. I can't believe it's Donald Trump. I don't understand it."
And there's more. A new book by journalist David Cay Johnston reports that Trump took a fancy to LiButti's daughter and that when the mob-connected gambler learned about this he confronted the casino mogul and said, "Donald, I'll fucking pull your balls from your legs."
Trump, according to Johnston, "lavished gifts on [Robert] LiButti, was generous with his time, and, less graciously, repeatedly tried to seduce the gambler's grown daughter." And for Edith LiButti's 35th birthday, the book says, Trump offered her a rather generous present: a cream-colored Mercedes-Benz convertible. 
Trump's casino, Johnston adds, was hit with a $450,000 fine for giving LiButti as gifts nine ultraluxury cars—three Ferraris, three Rolls-Royces, two Bentleys, and a Mercedesthat were quickly converted into cash.
Would a casino owner and playboy really not recognize a high-stakes player who lost over $11 million at his tables, who received exorbitant gifts as comps, and who once threatened him with castration? That's not a safe bet. Consider this: In March, Trump insisted to Yahoo News that he didn't know LiButti. A few weeks ago, he told the Wall Street Journal: "LiButti was a high-roller in Atlantic City. I found him to be a nice guy. But I had nothing to do with him." In one instance, he claimed he didn't know the man; in the other, he said he considered him a fine fellow. Once again, both remarks cannot be true.
"If people were like me, there would be no mob, because I don't play that game." That's what Trump told the Wall Street Journal recently, when the newspaper was examining his mob links. 
But that story noted that Trump in the late 1970s and early 1980s  forged an important relationship with John Cody, a local union leader who controlled cement truck drivers and who was close to Mafia bosses Carlo Gambino and Paul Castellano. 
Cody's son Michael told the Journal that Trump received preferential treatment from his father and obtained cement for Trump Tower even when Cody called a strike. (In a 1992 book, reporter Wayne Barrett noted that a female friend of John Cody, who had no visible means of support, ended up owning three apartments in Trump Tower. Cody occasionally stayed at these apartments and invested $500,000 in the units.) 
And Johnston recently pointed out in Politico that when Trump was building Trump Tower, he used concrete (which he bought at inflated prices) from a firm owned through fronts by Castellano and another Mafia chieftain named Anthony "Fat Tony" Salerno. (Castellano and Salerno each were clients of Roy Cohn when he was working for Trump.)
Trump told the Journal that he is "the cleanest guy there is." But that was just another lie. How clean is it to lie under oath about interacting with mob-linked thugs? No other presidential candidate has had such an extensive and publicly known record of business deals with mob associates—and of making false and contradictory statements to keep these dirty connections from becoming a major campaign controversy.

What’s driving Israel’s media crackdown?




What’s driving Israel’s media crackdown?



By Gregg Carlstrom

FEBRUARY 18, 2016
IN THE PAST FEW MONTHS, a veteran Israeli radio presenterlost half his airtime because he asked a top security official a tough question. Members of the foreign press were called before parliament twice to answer charges of “bias.” A lawmakerclaimed that journalists were inciting violence to besmirch his nation’s good name, and The Washington Post’s Jerusalem bureau chief was briefly detained by police on suspicion of doing exactly that.
Israel’s top political correspondent describes the current media climate as “Bolshevik.” The 59-year-old Foreign Press Association of Israel agrees, calling the recent Knesset hearings a tactic “usually associated with authoritarian governments.”
Perhaps the comparison seems overwrought in a country with a rambunctious local media scene and hundreds of foreign correspondents, with the critical liberal voice of Ha’aretz and a big Al Jazeera office. Indeed, nobody is comparing the state of media freedom in Israel to that in Egypt (23 journalists locked up) or in NATO member Turkey (14 in jail).
Quietly, though, Benjamin Netanyahu, Israel’s long-serving prime minister, has extended his reach over every corner of the Israeli media. The country’s largest newspaper acts so openly as his mouthpiece that two cabinet ministers have likened it to Pravda, the Communist Party organ in the former USSR.
For the past year Netanyahu has also run the communications ministry, the first time since the 1970s that an Israeli premier has held that job for longer than a brief transitional period. He sets policy for the ministry, but is too busy to handle its day-to-day operations; after he formed his fourth government in May, one of his first acts was to fire Avi Berger, the respected (and non-partisan) director-generaland replace him with Shlomo Filber, who used to be Netanyahu’s chief of staff. Journalists at Israel’s largest online news portal, Walla, complain that critical stories are changed under pressure because the site’s wealthy owner fears running afoul of the prime minister.
“What the politicians are interested in is for us, the journalists, to know that they have their fingers on the red buttons,” says Amit Segal, the political correspondent for Channel 2, Israel’s largest network, referring to Netanyahu’s control over broadcast licenses and proposed reforms of the television industry. “And to know that they will press them.”
The foreign press, meanwhile, has faced mounting official criticism, with journalists mocked by the foreign ministry in a cartoonish video. Officials insist that the media are inherently biased against Israel. Yet the criticism is frequently based on scant evidence; more often, journalists argue, it seems to reflect a fear that Israel is losing the battle of ideas in Western countries that were long its staunchest allies.


Israel in 2016 finds itself, perhaps for the first time, unable to plausibly tell the world that its occupation of the Palestinian territories is a temporary affair. The diplomatic process is sufficiently comatose that even Thomas Friedman, a barometer for elite opinion, pronounced the two-state solution dead in a recent column. The European Union recently decided to start labeling goods produced in illegal Jewishsettlements, a sign of growing impatience with the pro-settler government; the Obama administration is exasperated with Netanyahu, and has little interest in promoting another round of talks.
All of this has driven Israelis to circle the proverbial wagons, and the local press has become a brutal critic of its foreign counterpart. Last month,Khaled Abu Toameh, a reporter for the Jerusalem Post, wrote a thinly-sourced broadside that accused the foreign press of harboring “hatred for Israel and for Jews.”
widely-shared 2014 piece by former AP correspondent Matti Friedman accused the press of paying excessive attention to Israel. Yet it also described Israel as “a tiny village on the slopes” of the Middle Eastern volcano—making it sound like a rather worthwhile and fascinating story to cover.
“There’s a real sense that Israel is hunkering down,” says one longtime wire service reporter, who asked to speak anonymously because of the sensitivity of the topic. “Attitudes are changing in Europe and in America, and Israelis are blaming us for that.”

NETANYAHU’S FIRST STINT as prime minister lasted only three years. He blamed his 1999 defeat on the media, telling aides “I lost because I didn’t have a newspaper.”
Today he has two—even if he doesn’t own them outright. His friend and ally, the American casino magnate Sheldon Adelson, founded a free daily in 2007 called Yisrael HaYom (“Israel Today”). It became the country’s most popular paper, read by two out of five Israelis, according to a 2014 study. Adelson further expanded his media empire in 2014 with the purchase of Makor Rishon (“Primary Source”), a flagging conservative daily that now publishes weekly.
Adelson says he wanted to correct a deep bias in the Israeli media. “The newspaper [sic] there was so far to the left politically that it was misleading the public,” he told the Macau Daily Times in December. (Some Israelis wonder wryly how he would know: Adelson has never lived in Israel, nor does he speak Hebrew, though his wife is Israeli.)
“Maybe you believe him, maybe you don’t,” says Oren Persico, a reporter for The Seventh Eye, an independent media monitor.* “But he had a mission, and he did this on behalf of his close friend, the prime minister.”
It was an expensive mission. Yisrael HaYom does not disclose its finances, but a former business partner alleged in a 2011 deposition that it loses $3 million per month. The billionaire mogul uses his deep pockets to kneecap media rivals, particularly Yediot Aharonot, a popular tabloid that is relentlessly critical of the Netanyahus—not only the prime minister, but also his wife Sara, who is widely believed to play a major role in her husband’s administration. She once compared its publisher to Lord Voldemort, the villain in the Harry Potter novels.

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A vendor distributes free copies of Israel HaYom in 2009 (Wikimedia)

2014 report by The Seventh Eye found that a full-page advertisement inYisrael HaYom could be bought for one-third the price of a similar ad inYediot.
Israelis call Yisrael HaYom “Bibiton,” a combination of Netanyahu’s nickname and the Hebrew word for newspaper. The Economist reported last year that its headlines are “routinely approved by the prime minister’s office.”
In its most egregious moments, the paper lives up to the Pravdacomparisons. On the Saturday before last year’s election, Netanyahu and his top challenger, Isaac Herzog, faced off for a “mini-debate” on Channel 2. Herzog was in the studio; the prime minister spoke from his residence, looming over Herzog on a giant screen.
That Sunday’s Yisrael HaYom featured a photo of the debate on page three, with an accusatory red circle around the earpiece clipped to Herzog’s collar. “Herzog was the only interviewee with a headset,” it noted matter-of-factly, implying that someone—perhaps his campaign staff, perhaps the Channel 2 producers—was feeding him material.

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The incriminating “headset,” of course, was the IFB earpiece that any television guest wears. Herzog couldn’t hear Netanyahu without one, and the prime minister surely had one of his own. But Herzog had a reputation for being indecisive and clueless. Yisrael HaYom found a way to reinforce it, two days before the ballot.
With two newspapers in hand, Netanyahu has now set his sights on the electronic media. Israel’s most popular network, Channel 2, is run jointly by two companies called Reshet and Keshet. The prime minister wants to break it apart, arguing that a split would encourage diversity and competition. It would also force both companies to hire their own news teams, at a cost of perhaps tens of millions of dollars, and strip Channel 2 of its status as the country’s leading evening news program.
“Israel is a small media market,” says Segal, the outlet’s political correspondent. “It would be better to have one big channel than two smaller ones that probably wouldn’t be viable.”
Channel 10, the country’s most liberal (and a thorn in Netanyahu’s side), narrowly escaped bankruptcy last year, owing to an arcane licensing dispute. It blamed the prime minister for its financial woes, because he blocked a deal to settle the channel’s long-standing debts. The specter of “reform” also hangs over the broadcasting authority, which operates the state-run Channel 1 and several radio stations.  
On the other hand there is Channel 20, a new station launched in 2014 to offer programming about Jewish culture and heritage. It is positioning itself as an Israeli version of Fox News, complete with a fluttering flag graphic in the lower-left corner. The channel has been fined several times for airing news content, which its charter does not allow—including covering a big right-wing rally just days before the election. Yet it continues to push an agenda: After President Reuven Rivlin appeared at a December conference that also hosted a left-wing NGO, it accused him of “crossing a red line” and “spitting in the faces” of Israeli soldiers.
The digital media, too, are coming under pressure. Last year Ha’aretzreported that editors at Walla, the news site, had been instructed to post more positive coverage of the prime minister’s wife, Sara. Online media is outside the government’s purview. But Walla is owned by Bezeq, Israel’s largest phone company, which is currently engaged in sensitive talks with the government about reforming its lucrative landline business. “And who’s handling the negotiations? The communications minister,” says one Walla journalist, who was granted anonymity to speak openly about the company. “The editor in chief has asked to personally review any stories dealing with Netanyahu.”

NETANYAHU HAS NO QUARREL with the foreign press; indeed, he’s more likely to appear on Meet the Press than Channel 2. Other members of his coalition tend to be less sympathetic.
The Knesset held its first hearing about the foreign media on February 2. It was ostensibly meant to discuss recent acts of violence against the press, like when Israeli troops smashed the cameras of two AFP photographers in September. (The army quickly dismissed the soldiers’ commanding officer.)


But the hearing also gave lawmakers a platform to attack the press. Michael Oren, an American-born freshman lawmaker, even claimed that journalists were inciting violence in the occupied territories, albeit without providing any examples. “We know with certainty about many cases that were staged and orchestrated,” said Oren, a former Israeli ambassador to Washington. “The media needs to ask itself if it is truly balanced.”
His words came to mind on Tuesday, when William Booth, theWashington Post bureau chief, was detained by police outside of Jerusalem’s old city. They brought him to a nearby police station for questioning, then released him; the incident ended within an hour, and the Israeli foreign ministry promptly apologized. “We do not arrest journalists,” Netanyahu said.
What was particularly striking, though, was the rationale: A civilian passerby apparently told the police that the journalists were “paying cash to Arabs” in order to “create provocations” outside the old city, exactly what Oren had alleged weeks earlier. “Was the civilian a member of the Knesset by chance?” joked Jonah Mandel, a correspondent for AFP.


The Knesset held a second small hearing on February 9. The proximate cause, according to Tzipi Livni, the subcommittee chair, was a headline published on CBS the week before, after three Palestinians armed with guns, knives, and explosives tried to carry out a serious attack in East Jerusalem. Two Israeli policewomen foiled the plot by killing the attackers. Both officers were hurt, and one, Hadar Cohen, died of her wounds that evening.
CBS News published a story with the headline “Three Palestinians killed as daily violence grinds on.” The foreign ministry spokesman immediately sent a screen grab of the headline to journalists, calling it “unprecedented chutzpah.” The image rocketed around social media, with Livni, a former foreign minister, accusing CBS of “choosing sides.”


“This time we won’t let it pass in silence,” Nitzan Chen, the head of the government press office, wrote on Facebook. “We will consider revoking press credentials from journalists and editors who are negligent in their work, and give headlines that are the opposite of reality.”


It was, to be sure, a poor headline, casting the gunmen as victims. Yet it was also a single headline, written in the early-morning hours by a producer half a world away, and the network amended it a couple of hours later. CBS did not respond to CJR’s requests for comment.
Lawmakers asked Chen to provide other examples of media bias. He cited three other headlines, from CBS, CNN, and the BBC. That was the extent of his presentation: four faulty headlines, out of thousands filed since October. “I fail to see how the media has something to answer for in terms of systemic bias,” says Luke Baker, Reuters Jerusalem bureau chief and the head of the Foreign Press Association.
Israeli officials deny that there has been any undue scrutiny of the foreign press. Chen was quick to apologize for the Washington Post incident, calling it “unfortunate.” Livni, for her part, said that the Knesset hearings were not meant as a “field trial” for journalists, and that her main complaint is the headlines rather than the substance of the coverage. “It feeds the perception of one strong state, Israel, and the victims, the Palestinians,” she said.

THE JERUSALEM BEAT has always been heavily scrutinized, with pro-Israel groups like CAMERA that pore over every word written about the conflict. The pressure has grown in recent years, partly due to the advent of social media. Oren, the lawmaker, suggested that Israel’s advocates engage in online “shaming” of journalists (which, as any correspondent can attest, they need little encouragement to do).


But the heightened sensitivity also reflects an increasingly strident and nationalist tone in Israeli society—and here the criticism is not limited to foreign journalists. Razi Barkai, a veteran host on Army Radio, an Israeliarmy-run station that is nonetheless often a leading source of critical journalism, has been subjected to a withering attack by both politicians and the public because of a recent interview he conducted.
The macabre subject was how to handle the bodies of Palestinian attackers. His interviewee, Public Security Minister Gilad Erdan, said he did not believe they should be returned to families for burial. Barkai wondered whether their families were any different from the families of two Israeli soldiers whose bodies have been held by Hamas since the end of the 2014 war in Gaza.
It was an emotionally charged comparison, but it was nonetheless a valid question about a deeply controversial topic (the Israeli defense minister, for example, disagrees with Erdan’s policy). But the director of Army Radio quickly apologized to listeners, and announced that Barkai’s airtime would be cut in half, with the second hour given to Erel Segal (no relation to Amit), a right-wing commentator who once contemplated running for parliament with the ruling party. “It’s no secret that I support Netanyahu and the Likud,” he said last year.
“What was, a few years ago, the opinion of the hard right in Israel has now become the mainstream,” says Persico, the media reporter. “And I think journalists are looking around and seeing how the public opinion is moving.”
Israel prides itself on having the freest press in the Middle East, and often compares itself to the West in this regard. “As I can personally attest to you, the press in Israel is robust, free, very energetic, and free to say anything that it wants,” Netanyahu said on Tuesday during a press conference in Berlin with the German chancellor.
Yet the trends sending a chill through the media scene seem likely to continue. The foreign press—like left-leaning NGOs, which have also recently come under fire—will continue to draw the blame for Israel’s eroding diplomatic position in the West.
Netanyahu, meanwhile, is determined to become Israel’s longest-serving prime minister; some believe that his attempts to control the media are only beginning. “Netanyahu is almost obsessed with the media,” says Channel 2’s Segal. “Honestly, one should be almost amazed that he hasn’t done more yet.”
*An earlier version of this story incorrectly stated that The Seventh Eye is published by the Israel Democracy Institute. CJR regrets the error.