IN LATE FEBRUARY, after Donald Trump had nearly vanquished the entirety of the Republican primary field, his spokesman, Steven Cheung, took aim at the one opponent still standing. “Birdbrain, are you a liar or just plain stupid?” he posted on X.
“Birdbrain” was Nikki Haley, the former governor of South Carolina and Trump’s own ambassador to the United Nations, whose effrontery in not exiting the race made her a favored punching bag. But there were, and are, many other Cheung targets. “Chris Christie looks like a weak bitch,” he proclaimed after the former New Jersey governor expressed regret for endorsing Trump in 2016. On March 9, Cheung posted on X a picture of Joe Biden standing at a podium. His caption, all uppercase: “HELP! MY DIAPER IS FULL!”
Cheung’s last job before entering Trumpworld may partially explain his coarseness: He was director of communications for Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC), which stages bouts of mixed martial arts, a brutal amalgamation of wrestling, kickboxing, and Brazilian jiujitsu.
It would be tempting to dismiss him as just a foul-mouthed bully, a staffer Trump latched onto because more respectable operatives wanted nothing to do with him. But, dear readers, if there are any among you rooting for a second Trump term, I have good news for you—and for the rest, some not-so-good news: Cheung is a pretty clever guy. His social media posts and public statements, unhinged as they may sound, are calculated to draw attention amid the clutter of the 24/7 news cycle and to project the machismo that satisfies his boss’s core supporters. He is disciplined and laser-focused on the mission: Elect Trump at all costs.
More broadly, he is part of a Trump campaign that is less chaotic and leaky, and far
