Trump's Fierce Legal Advocate — Potentially the Next Attorney General — Claims He's Merely Trolling Everyone
Mike Davis may be considered for the role of Trump’s attorney general, and he has made statements indicating a desire to place journalists in gulags and children in cages. However, he also claims to be engaging in trolling. The distinction between these positions is not always straightforward.
TroibNews 
Mike Davis was not pleased.
The energetic Republican attorney and former Senate aide, who currently serves as one of Trump's most ardent defenders on X and conservative media, was amid one of his routine appearances on Steve Bannon’s "War Room" when a protester suddenly appeared behind him, yelling in his ear.
Davis attempted to explain the legal issues unfolding inside the Supreme Court behind him, where the justices were hearing arguments about whether Trump was shielded from prosecution regarding allegations of trying to overturn the 2020 election results.
“They must have let people out of the mental health asylum for today’s Supreme Court hearing,” Davis remarked with a grin meant for the camera. “We have our friend here — it looks like an MSNBC correspondent behind me.”
Bannon, from his studio, chimed in with a sarcastic warning to the protester: “Mike Davis is gonna punch your lights out.”
According to Donald Trump Jr. and Bannon, Davis is a likely candidate for attorney general in a potential second Trump administration. However, at that moment, he felt powerless. After wrapping up his segment on "War Room," he rushed over to the nearby Supreme Court Police to voice his frustration about the protester. “You do not have a First Amendment right to scream in someone’s ear,” he insisted to an officer. “I used to work in this building — I know what the fucking law is.”
Upon recognizing him, the officer nodded in acknowledgment. “I remember you,” he said. They agreed that Davis needed to talk to Patricia, a press delegate at the Supreme Court. Knowing exactly who she was, Davis called her and requested access to the press corral.
Patricia, who recognized Davis, granted him special access, marking the first instance of Bannon's show having a credentialed Supreme Court correspondent.
That day outside the Supreme Court, Davis displayed the multifaceted nature of his role within Trump's circle. He is known as the former president’s troll-in-chief, frequently appearing on MAGA-aligned media where he delivers provocative, unapologetic defenses of Trump while attacking Trump's perceived adversaries, particularly in legal matters. He has voiced vehement opposition to what he describes as the "weaponization" of the Justice Department, vowing to "rain hell" on Washington if Trump retakes office in January 2025, and to dismantle institutions he claims treat Trump unjustly. Democrats, in his view, are "Marxists" and "evil," and he has jokingly suggested — in ways that some do not regard as jokes — that he would send journalists and former GOP figures like George Conway and Tim Miller to “the gulag” and confine migrant children to “cages.” “My goal,” he once has said, “is for the Supreme Court to dismantle most of the federal government.”
Despite his aggressive demeanor, Davis possesses a strong grasp of the same institutions that often play to his advantage and the benefit of Trump.
He has served as a clerk at the Supreme Court in 2017, held the title of chief counsel for nominations under Senate Judiciary Chair Chuck Grassley during the Trump administration, and, as an external adviser, guided the confirmation battles for the two justices hearing arguments that day: Neil Gorsuch and Brett Kavanaugh.
“Mike Davis was a standard-stock Republican, Federalist Society lawyer, right? Standard stuff. Played by the rules. Helped get guys confirmed, could play tough, but painted inside the lines,” Bannon observed.
Now, however? “He’s a full fucking MAGA warrior.”
Davis, a stocky and redheaded lapsed Irish Catholic who refers to himself as Trump’s “viceroy,” isn’t formally linked to the Trump campaign, but he is undoubtedly within Trump’s inner circle. Besides being touted as a candidate for attorney general or acting attorney general, there is a substantial chance he could serve as White House counsel, chief of staff at the Department of Justice, or act as an external adviser to Trump in selecting someone for those roles.
“Donald Trump loves him,” GOP fundraiser Caroline Wren said, explaining that she hears from Republican mega-donors and senators who admire Davis’ appearances on Bannon’s "War Room."
“If he isn’t the attorney general, he’s going to play some sort of role,” she asserted.
Donald Trump Jr. described Davis in a statement to PMG as “the tip of the spear defending my father from these corrupt Democrat prosecutors,” emphasizing, “He’s exactly the type of fighter that I’d like to see involved in a second Trump administration.”
However, it remains unclear what specific role Davis would occupy in a potential new Trump administration, and how much of his rhetoric is, as he puts it, merely “trolling.” This uncertainty encapsulates a key characteristic of conservatives in the Trump era: the blending of reality with trolling, serious political ideas with provocations. Davis enjoys keeping people guessing about his true intentions and desires regarding what he will help Trump achieve.
I’ve had extensive conversations with Davis dating back to a December encounter, accompanied by discussions with nearly two dozen individuals who intersect with his life. It became evident that even Davis himself sometimes struggles to discern when he is being earnest.
The uncertainty around his potential position in a hypothetical Trump administration mirrors the ambiguity around his actual desires — and whether the prospect of Attorney General Mike Davis represents the ultimate troll of all.
In sixth grade, teachers at Des Moines, Iowa, bestowed upon him the Alex P. Keaton award, an honor they created specifically for him due to his significantly different views from his liberal parents, who prioritized service trips and social justice education. At his liberal Catholic school, he was known for disputing teachers on topics like welfare, arguing that it perpetuated poverty.
At the University of Iowa in the late 90s, he became enthralled with House Speaker Newt Gingrich’s rhetoric on welfare reform. He inundated Gingrich’s office with letters and emails — a relatively novel form of communication at the time — inquiring about internship opportunities. Reluctantly, the intern director eventually relented, “I think just to shut me up,” Davis remarked. He embarked on a journey to Washington in a “crappy” Dodge, making the drive straight through the night from Iowa, believing it would lead to him and Gingrich dismantling the government together.
That dream didn’t materialize, but it did introduce him to the levers of power he would later manipulate effectively.
Even as a college student, Davis was known for his provocative demeanor. “He’ll say things to kind of get people agitated and see what kind of reaction he gets,” recalled Tim Hagle, his constitutional law professor and faculty adviser to the Students for Bush group that Davis organized, which became the second-largest group on campus.
After law school at the University of Iowa, Davis volunteered for the 2004 Bush reelection campaign, which landed him a job in the White House in 2005. As associate director of political affairs, he focused on vetting candidates. “My impressions of him were, ‘He’s incredibly smart,’” said Scott Jennings, who served as deputy director of political affairs and was Davis’ boss. “Incredibly aggressive.”
Davis spent a year in the White House, briefly moved to the Bush Justice Department, and then relocated to Colorado, where he clerked for Gorsuch at the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals before entering private practice and working in the Colorado attorney general’s office.
In Denver, he started wearing a red MAGA hat publicly. “It’s bold to do that in Denver, Colorado,” noted May Davis Mailman, a former senior adviser to Trump who got to know Davis while she was a Tenth Circuit clerk. Davis recognized the shift occurring in real time in Iowa while monitoring the WHO TV13 corn kernel presidential poll and captured a picture of overflowing kernels in Trump’s jar to post on Facebook.
Initially, Davis didn’t agree with Trump on every issue, particularly regarding trade and immigration. “I used to be much more globalist on trade and on immigration,” he confessed. He acknowledged a shift in perspective, as he observed NAFTA devastate Midwestern manufacturing and send jobs south of the border, resulting in the hollowing out of the middle class he grew up in. “The uni-party does not care about real Americans — Flyover Country, working-class Americans in Iowa, Indiana, and Ohio,” he stated emphatically. “That’s a problem.” He cast his vote for Trump in 2016.
In 2017, Davis reunited with Gorsuch, who took him on as a law clerk at the Supreme Court for four months, followed by a stint from July 2017 to January 2019 as Grassley’s chief counsel for nominations. During that time, he was instrumental in shaping one of Trump’s most significant conservative victories: reshaping the judiciary. Davis oversaw the confirmation process for 278 federal judges and senior executive branch appointees, including Amy Coney Barrett.
In 2019, he departed the Senate and founded the Article III Project, which he described to The New York Times as a “brass knuckles” advocacy group aiming to mold the judiciary into a more conservative institution — “a hell of a lot more conservative,” he emphasized. Operating primarily on donations with a minimal staff, the organization also serves as a legal think tank focused on defending Trump in the courtroom and media.
After the FBI search of Mar-a-Lago in August of 2022, Davis felt that the DOJ and what he refers to as the Democratic “regime” had aligned against Trump. Since then, he has been vocal, appearing frequently on X, Fox News, and Bannon's War Room, branding the Democratic pursuit against Trump as “lawfare”— a term he popularized among MAGA supporters. He estimates having made over 4,000 appearances in defense of Trump since the Mar-a-Lago raid, averaging more than five a day. “It was pretty lonely around Trump world after the Mar-a-Lago raid. Trump’s going to remember who ran to him and who ran from him,” he expressed.
While conservative media and Trump allies revel in his most outrageous statements, its his established credentials that give the conservative elite the ammunition to contest Trump’s legal issues.
During remarks to reporters at the tail end of a Manhattan trial in May, Trump referred to Davis, noting he was “highly respected” while reading an X post where Davis labeled that day’s proceedings as “blatant lawfare.”
For his loyalty, Davis has reaped rewards: Trump's leadership PAC, despite financial constraints, has contributed $150,000 to Article III. In 2022, the group's budget was listed at $50,000. However, in anticipation of the election, the organization is running a $1 million ad campaign in swing states warning undocumented immigrants against voting illegally, suggesting a significant budget increase over the past two years.
Throughout a day I spent with him, Davis frequently stepped away to take what he described as important calls: at 11:19 a.m., 11:41 a.m., and 1:21 p.m., all of which coincided with Trump’s courtroom breaks during the second week of his criminal hush money trial. When I asked if Trump had been seeking his advice, Davis remained tight-lipped.
Davis sees his MAGA evolution not as a transformation but as a natural progression from his days following Gingrich. “I’ve never been establishment,” he remarked. “I’ve worked for establishment people like George W. Bush. But I’ve never been establishment. I told people very early on that President Donald Trump will be president and Neil Gorsuch will be on the Supreme Court. And I made that my mission to get Neil Gorsuch to the Supreme Court. And people thought it was absolutely nuts.”
Over the last decade, he has become an ideal champion for Trump: a person who knows how to navigate the inner workings of power while embodying the grievances of a flyover country native. He exhibits a combative nature and a commitment to seeing projects through, regardless of the potential long-term consequences for himself.
On the morning of Gorsuch’s nomination battle in 2017, Davis was knocked down by a “6-4, 350-pound” bike messenger while crossing Pennsylvania Avenue. Though paramedics insisted on taking him to the hospital, he declined, eager to remain involved in the process. “I had to run the Gorsuch confirmation from the outside,” he recounted.
In pain, he hobbled to a nearby CVS Pharmacy but decided against the hospital because he didn’t want to miss the pivotal moments during the confirmation process. Despite having a broken arm, a broken rib, a dislocated rib, and a punctured lung, he returned to his Capitol Hill apartment to continue managing the confirmation.
Last September, he garnered attention for remarks on a conservative influencer's show where he outlined an aggressive agenda for what he would do if he were Trump’s “acting attorney general.” His proclamations included firing “deep state” personnel, indicting Joe Biden, deporting millions of immigrants, and making controversial decisions regarding asylum seekers. “It’s going to be glorious,” he asserted.
While it seems unlikely that Davis will become Trump’s Senate-confirmed attorney general, speculation remains regarding whether he may serve as an acting attorney general or high-level DOJ appointee. “That’s Attorney General Mike Davis,” Bannon quipped when I inquired about him earlier this year, reflecting the lighthearted tone around the prospect.
Democrats appear uneasy with the idea — viewing it as a viable fundraising tactic. The Biden campaign shared Davis’ remarks online, capitalizing on his comment about a "reign of terror."
Mehdi Hasan noted that Davis is “exactly what the Trump administration lacked last time around: a skilled, even competent veteran of Beltway legal politics.”
At lunch months later, Davis acknowledged he is serious about much of his media rhetoric, including his desire to strip the federal government of power, a sentiment he has held since his Gingrich days. However, he also indicated some of his more outrageous claims — like placing kids in cages — are exaggerated for effect, suggesting, “I’m obviously trolling them.”
When I probed whether he genuinely believed that, he clarified, “No. I’m trolling you.”
Davis uses trolling to his advantage, as it has been for Trump.
“To grab attention on MAGA social media, and to amass followers and secure spots on Steve Bannon’s show, the best approach is to make outrageous statements,” said Miller, a former Jeb Bush communications director turned Bulwark writer and MSNBC analyst.
Acquaintances of Davis suspect that his core beliefs become obscured by his hyperbolic behavior and wild declarations. “I think he’s warm and kind,” May Davis Mailman noted. “He actually cares about the movement, and is thoughtful about it.”
Regina Schofield, who supervised Davis during his tenure in the Bush White House, pointed out that she has vouched for him at nearly all his official appointments. She recalled a specific moment when she confronted him about an exchange with Stormy Daniels’ former attorney, Michael Avenatti.
“He told her, ‘I go home, Boss, and I just keep drinking the red wine and the next thing I know, my fingers are going crazy,’” she recalled.
Another time during the Kavanaugh hearings, Davis expressed initial ambivalence about the nominee but felt compelled to defend him strongly during contentious questioning, leading to the creation of Article III. “I think he’s less of an ideologue,” Schofield said. “And he’s more of someone who wants to just throw bombs.”
Some of Davis' more inflammatory statements have crossed into territory deemed unacceptable even by Schofield. He faced backlash for asserting that “the violent Black underclass is a danger to America.” Schofield, who is Black, responded that she found that post to be racist.
Davis defended himself, saying, “I laugh at people who call me racist. I’ve donated tens of thousands of dollars to poor Black kids who I don’t know so they can go to good schools.”
Nonetheless, the relentless trolling creates a murky distinction between reality and satire for many in Trump’s orbit.
Miller cautioned against becoming a caricature through trolling. “I think a lot of times, they are joking,” he mentioned. “But eventually, you kind of become this caricature, and what starts as a troll, you can end up defending or believing.”
Davis dismisses claims that he would support the notion of putting children in “cages.” However, the Trump administration did carry out family separations at the border. When I asked him how he would respond to family separation if he were advising Trump as AG in a second term, he skirted the question, focusing instead on the current issues regarding lost migrant kids under Biden, stating, “On ‘Day 1,’ Trump will do what it takes to fix our broken border again — and reunite families.”
His sidestepping illustrated a tendency to acknowledge the horrors of certain policies without outright denying their potential recurrence.
I was taken aback when Davis shared absurd memes and conspiracy theories on social media that didn’t align with what I had seen from him previously. When confronted about this misinformation, he responded, “There’s more corroborating evidence that migrants are eating geese and cats in Ohio than Brett Kavanaugh sexually assaulting Christine Blasey Ford.”
When I queried him about the dividing line within the modern Republican Party between trolling and actual legislating, he bluntly stated, “Whatever you can get passed,” while he punctured his sandwich.
What did he truly desire from a second Trump term?
“I use a lot of fiery language — hyperbole — to get my point across and force people to pay attention,” he said.
When I prodded about his statements on Johnson’s show, he responded, “The point was that a politicized and weaponized legal system is very dangerous and destructive for your country.”
His phone rang again, prompting him to excuse himself. Back in Manhattan, Trump faced another break in his ongoing trial.
Later, at The Trade Hotel’s bar during the Republican National Convention, the atmosphere was electric as the Trump entourage celebrated the former president’s good fortune.
Earlier that evening, Davis shared his astonishment over Trump’s triumph, which included both surviving an assassination attempt and having a judge dismiss a case against him.
“Trump dodged the real bullet,” he observed while watching Trump address the delegates.
When Davis entered the bar, he was received like a triumphant leader, casually discussing potential judgeships with attendees. Meanwhile, he bragged about his role in securing “six votes” on the Supreme Court.
“The viceroy is fucking coming,” Davis assured David Bossie, Trump’s former deputy campaign manager, adding, “[Democrats] don’t know what’s coming in January 2025.”
As he approached Trump Jr., I lingered nearby, hoping to catch an off-the-cuff comment but keeping some distance.
An imposing man beside Trump Jr. began to watch me closely, prompting me to retreat. Shortly after, a woman associated with Guilfoyle approached and warned me about “gawking” at the Trump circle.
Close to closing time, Trump Jr. and his group prepared to leave. As they passed by, Trump Jr. shared a message with Davis: “I want you to be my father’s attorney general for all four years.”
Davis jested that he would only commit to three weeks as the viceroy.
While I jotted down notes, the same woman who had previously admonished us now demanded I delete them or surrender my phone, backed by several imposing men blocking my exit.
Feeling cornered and unnerved, I explained to her that I had a flight to catch. Her response was dismissive: “You should have thought about your kids before you did what you did,” she fired back.
After fifteen tense minutes and scouring for another escape route, I bolted down a hallway into a stairwell, followed closely by two individuals.
After reaching the street, I received a call from Davis, who had just confronted the woman by the elevators and made his displeasure known.
Davis expressed his astonishment, stating, “You don’t ask a reporter to delete their notes. This isn’t North Korea.”
Despite his earlier claims that his hyperbolic threats against media were not genuine, he now seemed startled that others within Trump's world may not have fully grasped his humor.
He conveyed that the incident was unlike anything he’d ever witnessed in his career, labeling it “Fucking shocking.”
Over the next few days, Davis checked in regularly, ensuring I was “OK,” and even spoke with my editor regarding the situation. He also contacted an adviser of Trump Jr., who subsequently reached out to express their discontent, emphasizing that the individual involved was not connected to Trump Jr. or the campaign.
The adviser sought to clarify that when Trump Jr. expressed his desire for Davis to be attorney general, it was not to be taken seriously, merely “trolling.”
Debra A Smith contributed to this report for TROIB News
The energetic Republican attorney and former Senate aide, who currently serves as one of Trump's most ardent defenders on X and conservative media, was amid one of his routine appearances on Steve Bannon’s "War Room" when a protester suddenly appeared behind him, yelling in his ear.
Davis attempted to explain the legal issues unfolding inside the Supreme Court behind him, where the justices were hearing arguments about whether Trump was shielded from prosecution regarding allegations of trying to overturn the 2020 election results.
“They must have let people out of the mental health asylum for today’s Supreme Court hearing,” Davis remarked with a grin meant for the camera. “We have our friend here — it looks like an MSNBC correspondent behind me.”
Bannon, from his studio, chimed in with a sarcastic warning to the protester: “Mike Davis is gonna punch your lights out.”
According to Donald Trump Jr. and Bannon, Davis is a likely candidate for attorney general in a potential second Trump administration. However, at that moment, he felt powerless. After wrapping up his segment on "War Room," he rushed over to the nearby Supreme Court Police to voice his frustration about the protester. “You do not have a First Amendment right to scream in someone’s ear,” he insisted to an officer. “I used to work in this building — I know what the fucking law is.”
Upon recognizing him, the officer nodded in acknowledgment. “I remember you,” he said. They agreed that Davis needed to talk to Patricia, a press delegate at the Supreme Court. Knowing exactly who she was, Davis called her and requested access to the press corral.
Patricia, who recognized Davis, granted him special access, marking the first instance of Bannon's show having a credentialed Supreme Court correspondent.
That day outside the Supreme Court, Davis displayed the multifaceted nature of his role within Trump's circle. He is known as the former president’s troll-in-chief, frequently appearing on MAGA-aligned media where he delivers provocative, unapologetic defenses of Trump while attacking Trump's perceived adversaries, particularly in legal matters. He has voiced vehement opposition to what he describes as the "weaponization" of the Justice Department, vowing to "rain hell" on Washington if Trump retakes office in January 2025, and to dismantle institutions he claims treat Trump unjustly. Democrats, in his view, are "Marxists" and "evil," and he has jokingly suggested — in ways that some do not regard as jokes — that he would send journalists and former GOP figures like George Conway and Tim Miller to “the gulag” and confine migrant children to “cages.” “My goal,” he once has said, “is for the Supreme Court to dismantle most of the federal government.”
Despite his aggressive demeanor, Davis possesses a strong grasp of the same institutions that often play to his advantage and the benefit of Trump.
He has served as a clerk at the Supreme Court in 2017, held the title of chief counsel for nominations under Senate Judiciary Chair Chuck Grassley during the Trump administration, and, as an external adviser, guided the confirmation battles for the two justices hearing arguments that day: Neil Gorsuch and Brett Kavanaugh.
“Mike Davis was a standard-stock Republican, Federalist Society lawyer, right? Standard stuff. Played by the rules. Helped get guys confirmed, could play tough, but painted inside the lines,” Bannon observed.
Now, however? “He’s a full fucking MAGA warrior.”
Davis, a stocky and redheaded lapsed Irish Catholic who refers to himself as Trump’s “viceroy,” isn’t formally linked to the Trump campaign, but he is undoubtedly within Trump’s inner circle. Besides being touted as a candidate for attorney general or acting attorney general, there is a substantial chance he could serve as White House counsel, chief of staff at the Department of Justice, or act as an external adviser to Trump in selecting someone for those roles.
“Donald Trump loves him,” GOP fundraiser Caroline Wren said, explaining that she hears from Republican mega-donors and senators who admire Davis’ appearances on Bannon’s "War Room."
“If he isn’t the attorney general, he’s going to play some sort of role,” she asserted.
Donald Trump Jr. described Davis in a statement to PMG as “the tip of the spear defending my father from these corrupt Democrat prosecutors,” emphasizing, “He’s exactly the type of fighter that I’d like to see involved in a second Trump administration.”
However, it remains unclear what specific role Davis would occupy in a potential new Trump administration, and how much of his rhetoric is, as he puts it, merely “trolling.” This uncertainty encapsulates a key characteristic of conservatives in the Trump era: the blending of reality with trolling, serious political ideas with provocations. Davis enjoys keeping people guessing about his true intentions and desires regarding what he will help Trump achieve.
I’ve had extensive conversations with Davis dating back to a December encounter, accompanied by discussions with nearly two dozen individuals who intersect with his life. It became evident that even Davis himself sometimes struggles to discern when he is being earnest.
The uncertainty around his potential position in a hypothetical Trump administration mirrors the ambiguity around his actual desires — and whether the prospect of Attorney General Mike Davis represents the ultimate troll of all.
In sixth grade, teachers at Des Moines, Iowa, bestowed upon him the Alex P. Keaton award, an honor they created specifically for him due to his significantly different views from his liberal parents, who prioritized service trips and social justice education. At his liberal Catholic school, he was known for disputing teachers on topics like welfare, arguing that it perpetuated poverty.
At the University of Iowa in the late 90s, he became enthralled with House Speaker Newt Gingrich’s rhetoric on welfare reform. He inundated Gingrich’s office with letters and emails — a relatively novel form of communication at the time — inquiring about internship opportunities. Reluctantly, the intern director eventually relented, “I think just to shut me up,” Davis remarked. He embarked on a journey to Washington in a “crappy” Dodge, making the drive straight through the night from Iowa, believing it would lead to him and Gingrich dismantling the government together.
That dream didn’t materialize, but it did introduce him to the levers of power he would later manipulate effectively.
Even as a college student, Davis was known for his provocative demeanor. “He’ll say things to kind of get people agitated and see what kind of reaction he gets,” recalled Tim Hagle, his constitutional law professor and faculty adviser to the Students for Bush group that Davis organized, which became the second-largest group on campus.
After law school at the University of Iowa, Davis volunteered for the 2004 Bush reelection campaign, which landed him a job in the White House in 2005. As associate director of political affairs, he focused on vetting candidates. “My impressions of him were, ‘He’s incredibly smart,’” said Scott Jennings, who served as deputy director of political affairs and was Davis’ boss. “Incredibly aggressive.”
Davis spent a year in the White House, briefly moved to the Bush Justice Department, and then relocated to Colorado, where he clerked for Gorsuch at the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals before entering private practice and working in the Colorado attorney general’s office.
In Denver, he started wearing a red MAGA hat publicly. “It’s bold to do that in Denver, Colorado,” noted May Davis Mailman, a former senior adviser to Trump who got to know Davis while she was a Tenth Circuit clerk. Davis recognized the shift occurring in real time in Iowa while monitoring the WHO TV13 corn kernel presidential poll and captured a picture of overflowing kernels in Trump’s jar to post on Facebook.
Initially, Davis didn’t agree with Trump on every issue, particularly regarding trade and immigration. “I used to be much more globalist on trade and on immigration,” he confessed. He acknowledged a shift in perspective, as he observed NAFTA devastate Midwestern manufacturing and send jobs south of the border, resulting in the hollowing out of the middle class he grew up in. “The uni-party does not care about real Americans — Flyover Country, working-class Americans in Iowa, Indiana, and Ohio,” he stated emphatically. “That’s a problem.” He cast his vote for Trump in 2016.
In 2017, Davis reunited with Gorsuch, who took him on as a law clerk at the Supreme Court for four months, followed by a stint from July 2017 to January 2019 as Grassley’s chief counsel for nominations. During that time, he was instrumental in shaping one of Trump’s most significant conservative victories: reshaping the judiciary. Davis oversaw the confirmation process for 278 federal judges and senior executive branch appointees, including Amy Coney Barrett.
In 2019, he departed the Senate and founded the Article III Project, which he described to The New York Times as a “brass knuckles” advocacy group aiming to mold the judiciary into a more conservative institution — “a hell of a lot more conservative,” he emphasized. Operating primarily on donations with a minimal staff, the organization also serves as a legal think tank focused on defending Trump in the courtroom and media.
After the FBI search of Mar-a-Lago in August of 2022, Davis felt that the DOJ and what he refers to as the Democratic “regime” had aligned against Trump. Since then, he has been vocal, appearing frequently on X, Fox News, and Bannon's War Room, branding the Democratic pursuit against Trump as “lawfare”— a term he popularized among MAGA supporters. He estimates having made over 4,000 appearances in defense of Trump since the Mar-a-Lago raid, averaging more than five a day. “It was pretty lonely around Trump world after the Mar-a-Lago raid. Trump’s going to remember who ran to him and who ran from him,” he expressed.
While conservative media and Trump allies revel in his most outrageous statements, its his established credentials that give the conservative elite the ammunition to contest Trump’s legal issues.
During remarks to reporters at the tail end of a Manhattan trial in May, Trump referred to Davis, noting he was “highly respected” while reading an X post where Davis labeled that day’s proceedings as “blatant lawfare.”
For his loyalty, Davis has reaped rewards: Trump's leadership PAC, despite financial constraints, has contributed $150,000 to Article III. In 2022, the group's budget was listed at $50,000. However, in anticipation of the election, the organization is running a $1 million ad campaign in swing states warning undocumented immigrants against voting illegally, suggesting a significant budget increase over the past two years.
Throughout a day I spent with him, Davis frequently stepped away to take what he described as important calls: at 11:19 a.m., 11:41 a.m., and 1:21 p.m., all of which coincided with Trump’s courtroom breaks during the second week of his criminal hush money trial. When I asked if Trump had been seeking his advice, Davis remained tight-lipped.
Davis sees his MAGA evolution not as a transformation but as a natural progression from his days following Gingrich. “I’ve never been establishment,” he remarked. “I’ve worked for establishment people like George W. Bush. But I’ve never been establishment. I told people very early on that President Donald Trump will be president and Neil Gorsuch will be on the Supreme Court. And I made that my mission to get Neil Gorsuch to the Supreme Court. And people thought it was absolutely nuts.”
Over the last decade, he has become an ideal champion for Trump: a person who knows how to navigate the inner workings of power while embodying the grievances of a flyover country native. He exhibits a combative nature and a commitment to seeing projects through, regardless of the potential long-term consequences for himself.
On the morning of Gorsuch’s nomination battle in 2017, Davis was knocked down by a “6-4, 350-pound” bike messenger while crossing Pennsylvania Avenue. Though paramedics insisted on taking him to the hospital, he declined, eager to remain involved in the process. “I had to run the Gorsuch confirmation from the outside,” he recounted.
In pain, he hobbled to a nearby CVS Pharmacy but decided against the hospital because he didn’t want to miss the pivotal moments during the confirmation process. Despite having a broken arm, a broken rib, a dislocated rib, and a punctured lung, he returned to his Capitol Hill apartment to continue managing the confirmation.
Last September, he garnered attention for remarks on a conservative influencer's show where he outlined an aggressive agenda for what he would do if he were Trump’s “acting attorney general.” His proclamations included firing “deep state” personnel, indicting Joe Biden, deporting millions of immigrants, and making controversial decisions regarding asylum seekers. “It’s going to be glorious,” he asserted.
While it seems unlikely that Davis will become Trump’s Senate-confirmed attorney general, speculation remains regarding whether he may serve as an acting attorney general or high-level DOJ appointee. “That’s Attorney General Mike Davis,” Bannon quipped when I inquired about him earlier this year, reflecting the lighthearted tone around the prospect.
Democrats appear uneasy with the idea — viewing it as a viable fundraising tactic. The Biden campaign shared Davis’ remarks online, capitalizing on his comment about a "reign of terror."
Mehdi Hasan noted that Davis is “exactly what the Trump administration lacked last time around: a skilled, even competent veteran of Beltway legal politics.”
At lunch months later, Davis acknowledged he is serious about much of his media rhetoric, including his desire to strip the federal government of power, a sentiment he has held since his Gingrich days. However, he also indicated some of his more outrageous claims — like placing kids in cages — are exaggerated for effect, suggesting, “I’m obviously trolling them.”
When I probed whether he genuinely believed that, he clarified, “No. I’m trolling you.”
Davis uses trolling to his advantage, as it has been for Trump.
“To grab attention on MAGA social media, and to amass followers and secure spots on Steve Bannon’s show, the best approach is to make outrageous statements,” said Miller, a former Jeb Bush communications director turned Bulwark writer and MSNBC analyst.
Acquaintances of Davis suspect that his core beliefs become obscured by his hyperbolic behavior and wild declarations. “I think he’s warm and kind,” May Davis Mailman noted. “He actually cares about the movement, and is thoughtful about it.”
Regina Schofield, who supervised Davis during his tenure in the Bush White House, pointed out that she has vouched for him at nearly all his official appointments. She recalled a specific moment when she confronted him about an exchange with Stormy Daniels’ former attorney, Michael Avenatti.
“He told her, ‘I go home, Boss, and I just keep drinking the red wine and the next thing I know, my fingers are going crazy,’” she recalled.
Another time during the Kavanaugh hearings, Davis expressed initial ambivalence about the nominee but felt compelled to defend him strongly during contentious questioning, leading to the creation of Article III. “I think he’s less of an ideologue,” Schofield said. “And he’s more of someone who wants to just throw bombs.”
Some of Davis' more inflammatory statements have crossed into territory deemed unacceptable even by Schofield. He faced backlash for asserting that “the violent Black underclass is a danger to America.” Schofield, who is Black, responded that she found that post to be racist.
Davis defended himself, saying, “I laugh at people who call me racist. I’ve donated tens of thousands of dollars to poor Black kids who I don’t know so they can go to good schools.”
Nonetheless, the relentless trolling creates a murky distinction between reality and satire for many in Trump’s orbit.
Miller cautioned against becoming a caricature through trolling. “I think a lot of times, they are joking,” he mentioned. “But eventually, you kind of become this caricature, and what starts as a troll, you can end up defending or believing.”
Davis dismisses claims that he would support the notion of putting children in “cages.” However, the Trump administration did carry out family separations at the border. When I asked him how he would respond to family separation if he were advising Trump as AG in a second term, he skirted the question, focusing instead on the current issues regarding lost migrant kids under Biden, stating, “On ‘Day 1,’ Trump will do what it takes to fix our broken border again — and reunite families.”
His sidestepping illustrated a tendency to acknowledge the horrors of certain policies without outright denying their potential recurrence.
I was taken aback when Davis shared absurd memes and conspiracy theories on social media that didn’t align with what I had seen from him previously. When confronted about this misinformation, he responded, “There’s more corroborating evidence that migrants are eating geese and cats in Ohio than Brett Kavanaugh sexually assaulting Christine Blasey Ford.”
When I queried him about the dividing line within the modern Republican Party between trolling and actual legislating, he bluntly stated, “Whatever you can get passed,” while he punctured his sandwich.
What did he truly desire from a second Trump term?
“I use a lot of fiery language — hyperbole — to get my point across and force people to pay attention,” he said.
When I prodded about his statements on Johnson’s show, he responded, “The point was that a politicized and weaponized legal system is very dangerous and destructive for your country.”
His phone rang again, prompting him to excuse himself. Back in Manhattan, Trump faced another break in his ongoing trial.
Later, at The Trade Hotel’s bar during the Republican National Convention, the atmosphere was electric as the Trump entourage celebrated the former president’s good fortune.
Earlier that evening, Davis shared his astonishment over Trump’s triumph, which included both surviving an assassination attempt and having a judge dismiss a case against him.
“Trump dodged the real bullet,” he observed while watching Trump address the delegates.
When Davis entered the bar, he was received like a triumphant leader, casually discussing potential judgeships with attendees. Meanwhile, he bragged about his role in securing “six votes” on the Supreme Court.
“The viceroy is fucking coming,” Davis assured David Bossie, Trump’s former deputy campaign manager, adding, “[Democrats] don’t know what’s coming in January 2025.”
As he approached Trump Jr., I lingered nearby, hoping to catch an off-the-cuff comment but keeping some distance.
An imposing man beside Trump Jr. began to watch me closely, prompting me to retreat. Shortly after, a woman associated with Guilfoyle approached and warned me about “gawking” at the Trump circle.
Close to closing time, Trump Jr. and his group prepared to leave. As they passed by, Trump Jr. shared a message with Davis: “I want you to be my father’s attorney general for all four years.”
Davis jested that he would only commit to three weeks as the viceroy.
While I jotted down notes, the same woman who had previously admonished us now demanded I delete them or surrender my phone, backed by several imposing men blocking my exit.
Feeling cornered and unnerved, I explained to her that I had a flight to catch. Her response was dismissive: “You should have thought about your kids before you did what you did,” she fired back.
After fifteen tense minutes and scouring for another escape route, I bolted down a hallway into a stairwell, followed closely by two individuals.
After reaching the street, I received a call from Davis, who had just confronted the woman by the elevators and made his displeasure known.
Davis expressed his astonishment, stating, “You don’t ask a reporter to delete their notes. This isn’t North Korea.”
Despite his earlier claims that his hyperbolic threats against media were not genuine, he now seemed startled that others within Trump's world may not have fully grasped his humor.
He conveyed that the incident was unlike anything he’d ever witnessed in his career, labeling it “Fucking shocking.”
Over the next few days, Davis checked in regularly, ensuring I was “OK,” and even spoke with my editor regarding the situation. He also contacted an adviser of Trump Jr., who subsequently reached out to express their discontent, emphasizing that the individual involved was not connected to Trump Jr. or the campaign.
The adviser sought to clarify that when Trump Jr. expressed his desire for Davis to be attorney general, it was not to be taken seriously, merely “trolling.”
Debra A Smith contributed to this report for TROIB News
