Donald Trump Holds The White House Press Corps Hostage | Vanity Fair
7 min read → 1 min listen
As an AI Thomas Jefferson delivered a lecture on the freedom of the press, Trump warned journalists “When I’m gone, you’re all gonna be broke.”
US President Donald Trump speaks during the 2026 White House Correspondents' Association (WHCA) Dinner at the Waldorf Astoria in Washington, DC, on July 24, 2026. The 2026 WHCA Dinner was originally scheduled for April 25 at the Washington Hilton, but was rescheduled and relocated after an alleged gunman breached security. (Photo by Mandel NGAN / AFP via Getty Images) MANDEL NGAN/Getty Images
It was ten minutes into President Donald Trump’ s speech at the White House Correspondents’ Association Dinner on Friday night when the event began to feel like a black-tie hostage situation. Trump was speaking at the dinner for the Washington press for the first time, and despite early signs he would stay on script, the speech soon devolved into a rambling and crass address that left the room uncomfortably silent, guests scrolling on their phones or pushing dessert around their plates.
Presidential speeches at these dinners typically run around 20 minutes and follow a formula: the president offers a lighthearted roast of the assembled journalists and ends on a lofty note about the importance of a free press.
Donald Trump is not a typical president, of course. He spoke for more than an hour, careening between his preferred topics, including the provenance of ballroom chandeliers and Chris Christie’s circumference. “It’s hard to escape the feeling that this dinner is more for Trump than the remaining journalists,” grumbled one member of the Washington press corps. You had to feel for them: Washington’s top journalists, who would rather be on the campaign trail in Maine or in the Hamptons or on the Mediterranean or at the very least on the Eastern Shore—anywhere but here—were already trapped in the nation’s capital on a hot summer’s night. Now, they had been lured by the president to the basement of a hotel he once owned so that he could talk at them about Czech lighting fixtures and Chris Christie fighting Jerry Nadler for a piece of cake.
Image may contain Donald Trump Baseball Cap Cap Clothing Hat Face Head Person Photography Portrait and Adult
The room was silent for much of the speech. Even the White House efforts to stuff the venue with cabinet members and West Wing aides didn’t save Donald Trump from bombing. After he stumbled through the Christie cake riff, the camera cut to Homeland Security Secretary Markwayne Mullin, who sat stone-faced. White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt had promised the speech would be “unifying” and “vicious.”
At moments, it was one of those things. Trump attacked Chuck Schumer, using “Palestinian” as a slur to mock the New York senator. He fixated on CNN anchor Kaitlan Collins ’ looks, instructing her to smile more before delivering a clumsy joke comparing her to trans influencer Dylan Mulvaney. He said Ilhan Omar should “get out of our country.” The ballroom remained mostly totally silent. When the camera cut to the room, attendees sat stone-faced or looked at their phones.
Trump seemed aware he was bombing. He repeatedly asked the silent crowd who had written his speech. After delivering an incomprehensible joke about a senator having sex with his wife, Trump tried to explain the punchline before asking the audience: “Does anybody get that? I thought that was actually pretty good. That was actually the only thing I thought was good in this whole freaking stupid speech.”
It may be unfair to blame the speechwriters, a team led by Ross Worthington that back in April had input from roast comic Tony Hinchcliffe. On Friday night, Trump’s delivery often appeared to be the problem. He sometimes stopped in the middle of pre-written jokes to riff about his perceived enemies, so much so that by the time he delivered the punchline it was unclear what the setup was. That kind of extemporaneous grievance-association may thrill the MAGA hat-wearing denizens of a Trump rally, but in a room full of journalists it fell uncomfortably flat.
***
The WHCA has drawn criticism for hosting Trump at the dinner. Days before, a group of 500 journalists, including Ann Curry and Jim Acosta, signed an open letter calling on the WHCA to “forcefully demonstrate opposition to President Trump’s efforts to trample freedom of the press.” CBS News Senior White House Correspondent and WHCA president Weijia Jiang, in an interview with C-SPAN, called the letter “disappointing” and said it was “based on the premise that we weren’t going to say anything about the current environment, and that’s a false premise.”
There were thinly veiled efforts throughout the night to impress upon Trump the importance of the press. There was this pointed remark: “The government doesn’t get to shut the press up, not when it’s wrong, not when it’s annoying, and not when it’s asking uncomfortable questions.”
That was Thomas Jefferson. Well, not really. It was an AI video of Thomas Jefferson that aired in the middle of the dinner. The selection of Jefferson to deliver this message was likely no accident. Trump is fond of the third president; his portrait hangs in the Oval Office, framed in gold, and last week Trump installed a bronze statue of Jefferson in the Rose Garden.
The video continued hammering the theme. It featured clips of Trump arguing with reporters, including his infamous clash with Jim Acosta. It featured clips of Trump’s predecessors, from Ronald Reagan to George W. Bush to Barack Obama, extolling the value of journalists that cover the powerful. Ken Burns appeared to point out that “Jefferson famously championed a free press.” AI Jefferson stepped back in to admonish his predecessor, AI John Adams, for trying to crack down on journalists. AI John Adams looked chastened.
It is unclear Trump felt the same. As the room applauded, the president did not appear to be clapping.
Image may contain Donald Trump Adult Person Wedding People Glass Clothing Formal Wear Suit Face and Head
While the purpose of the video may have been didactic, Jiang tried her hand at flattery. “President Trump, thank you,” she said warmly in her introductory remarks. “Thank you for being here again. Thank you for all of your support as we rescheduled this dinner.”
Recalling the shooting attempt that derailed the original dinner in April, Jiang recalled the night’s impromptu briefing at the White House. “Mr. President, you went straight to the podium in the White House briefing room to answer questions from journalists, all of us still in our gowns and tuxedos,” she said. “That night will go down in history, and so will our response. During that news conference President Trump said that ballroom was totally unified, and that it was a beautiful thing to see.”
The stiffest confrontation of the evening came when CNN anchor Wolf Blitzer took the stage to hand out the night’s awards. As Trump sat and watched, Blitzer presented honors to journalists who report on his administration, reading out in uncomfortable detail the revelations of their coverage. There was Wall Street Journal reporter , accepting an award for his relentless probing of the White House. There was the Associated Press correspondent Zeke Miller, accepting for reporting on Trump’s purge of allegedly disloyal career civil servants at the National Security Council. There was CNN anchor Kaitlan Collins, accepting for her coverage of Trump’s explosive clash with Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelensky.
And then, Blitzer presented an award to reporters from The Wall Street Journal for their investigation of Trump’s relationship with Jeffrey Epstein. “Trump quickly filed a $20 billion lawsuit against The Journal, revealing reporter Khadeeja Safdar’s home address,” Blitzer said. “Her family had to be relocated. The Journal was kicked off of Air Force One. But the reporters continued to file revelatory stories.”
When Blitzer emphasized billion, Trump laughed and shrugged. His grin faded as Blitzer continued with the whole family relocation business. Still, Trump shook the hands of the reporters, before throwing up his arms in an aw-shucks flourish and sitting back down. The lawsuit is ongoing.
For the last decade, Trump has effectively held the press hostage. Don’t cry for the media; it’s been a wonderfully profitable relationship, if at times a dangerous one. That strange symbiosis reached its apogee on Friday night. The president, wearing a red “TRUMP 2028” hat, told the press they should be thanking him. After all, he’s been ratings gold for the news networks and subscriptions crack for newspapers and magazines. “When I’m gone, you’re all gonna be broke, your business model is gonna be finished,” the president said.
One blessing for Washington’s beleaguered press corps may be a dearth of parties surrounding the rescheduled dinner. In April, there were dozens. The press wear down their heels bouncing from one sponsored cocktail party to the next, making the same small talk over and over until they’re hoarse. This time, there was really only one: a Thursday night toast, at the British Ambassador’s residence, to Jiang.
One journalist bobbing in the backyard of the ambassador’s mansion offered an explanation: all the news networks were too broke to throw another round of parties.
More Great Stories From Vanity Fair
-
Mamdani’s Netanyahu Video Was a Calculated Move. Insiders Explain His Strategy to VF.
-
Bill Maher Doesn’t Like Trump, Fine. But the Democrats? He Might Actually Vote for a Republican.
-
What Elon Musk’s AI Version of The Odyssey Might Look Like
-
The Tesla. The Body. And the Singer Accused of a Grisly Murder
-
Ops and Ends: How Graham Platner’s Senate Campaign Unraveled
-
I Tried Barron Trump’s and Kai Trump’s Dueling Energy Drinks So You Don’t Have To
-
The 10 Biggest Odyssey Updates From Homer’s Original Text to Christopher Nolan’s Latest Film
-
An All-American Tragedy: The Story of Brandon and Candice Miller
-
The Best New Movies and Shows on Netflix This July
-
From the Archive: The Incredible Shrinking House of Windsor