The Unraveling Bond: Why Donald Trump Never Truly Liked David Muir

Donald Trump’s relationship with ABC News anchor David Muir has been a rollercoaster, marked by fleeting admiration and deep-seated resentment. Once described as having a “soft spot” for Muir due to his ratings dominance and polished appearance, Trump’s feelings soured, culminating in public attacks where he branded Muir a “lightweight anchor” and “foolish fool.” The turning point? Muir’s fact-checking during the September 2024 presidential debate, which Trump saw as a betrayal. But beneath the surface, Trump’s dislike for Muir seems rooted in a clash of egos, unmet expectations, and a history of tense encounters. What fueled this animosity, and why does it continue to captivate public attention? Let’s explore the origins, key moments, and broader implications of this high-profile feud.

The Early Years: A Surface-Level Admiration

Trump’s initial affinity for Muir, as reported by insiders, stemmed from superficial qualities. In 2016, during his first presidential campaign, Trump valued Muir’s status as the anchor of World News Tonight, the top-rated evening newscast for nearly a decade. “Trump likes people who are number one in the ratings,” an ABC News reporter noted, reflecting Trump’s own background as the star of NBC’s The Apprentice. Trump’s adviser Kellyanne Conway described Muir as “central casting” for Trump, citing his handsome appearance and on-screen charisma. A former ABC staffer even recalled Trump calling Muir “handsome,” a compliment that aligned with Trump’s tendency to prioritize image.

This admiration manifested in Trump’s willingness to engage with Muir. On Labor Day 2016, when Trump’s team initially declined an ABC interview, he reversed course upon learning that Hillary Clinton and Tim Kaine had agreed to sit with Muir. “If it’s David Muir, I wanna do it,” Trump reportedly said, leading to a joint interview with Mike Pence at the Canfield County Fairgrounds in Ohio and on Trump’s private plane. This moment suggested a mutual respect, with Muir securing Trump’s first televised White House interview in January 2017, a significant scoop for ABC.

Yet, even in these early interactions, cracks appeared. During the 2017 interview, Muir pressed Trump on his baseless voter fraud claims, citing a Pew report that debunked them. Trump snapped back, insisting the report’s author was “groveling” and that millions of illegal votes were cast. Muir’s calm but firm pushback—informing Trump he’d spoken to the report’s author—frustrated the then-president, who later complained to Muir about ABC’s coverage of his CIA speech, accusing the network of “demeaning” his supporters. These exchanges hinted that Trump’s liking for Muir was conditional, tied to favorable treatment rather than genuine affinity.

The Debate That Changed Everything

The September 10, 2024, presidential debate between Trump and Kamala Harris marked a breaking point. Moderated by Muir and Linsey Davis, the debate saw Trump fact-checked multiple times, while Harris faced less scrutiny. Muir corrected Trump’s claim that crime was “through the roof,” citing FBI data showing a 15.2% drop in violent crime, and debunked Trump’s false narrative about Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio, eating pets, noting the city manager’s denial of credible reports. Trump, visibly rattled, later called the debate “three-on-one,” accusing Muir of bias and violating an agreement not to fact-check during the event.

Trump’s fury erupted publicly. At a September 2024 press conference at Trump National Golf Club, he labeled Muir a “foolish fool,” mocked his hair as “not as good as it was five years ago,” and claimed the FBI’s crime statistics were “fraudulent” for excluding high-crime cities. On Truth Social, he called Muir a “lightweight anchor” of “ABC FAKE NEWS, perhaps the worst and most dishonorable network in broadcasting.” Posts on X captured Trump’s shift, with one quoting him saying, “I always liked him, but I’m not going to watch him anymore,” signaling a personal betrayal.

Trump’s allies amplified the criticism. Senator Tom Cotton and RNC member David Bossie called Muir and Davis “agents of the Harris campaign,” while conservative commentators on X blasted Muir for “screaming” at Trump. Trump even floated suing Muir for defamation, though he later denied this, with sources suggesting he was “stewing” over perceived unfairness. For Trump, Muir’s fact-checking wasn’t just a professional slight—it was a personal affront, shattering the image of a once-favored anchor.

Why the Dislike Runs Deep

Trump’s dislike for Muir goes beyond the debate. Several factors suggest he never truly liked Muir, only tolerating him for strategic reasons:

Clash of Egos: Trump, known for his outsized ego, may have initially admired Muir’s polished image but grew resentful when Muir’s journalistic rigor challenged him. Muir’s reputation for tough but fair questioning—evident in his 2017 voter fraud pushback and 2024 debate corrections—clashed with Trump’s expectation of deference. An ABC insider’s 2025 claim that Muir’s focus on appearance rivaled Trump’s ego further highlights this tension, suggesting a rivalry over who commands the spotlight.

Unmet Expectations: Trump’s initial warmth toward Muir was tied to his ratings and looks, not his journalism. When Muir pressed him on falsehoods, as in 2017 and 2020 interviews, Trump felt betrayed. A 2020 CNN critique noted Muir’s failure to challenge Trump’s misinformation about COVID-19 testing, suggesting Trump expected similar leniency in 2024. When Muir instead held him accountable, Trump’s “liking” evaporated, revealing a transactional relationship.

Media Distrust: Trump’s broader disdain for mainstream media, particularly ABC, colored his view of Muir. Despite sparing Muir early on while attacking anchors like George Stephanopoulos, Trump’s 2024 rants against ABC as “the worst network” and “fake news” ensnared Muir. His claim that ABC’s Dana Walden was Harris’s “best friend” fueled his narrative of a biased network, with Muir as its face.

Personal Sensitivities: Trump’s mockery of Muir’s hair and appearance reflects a personal edge to his dislike. His 2025 comments about Muir’s “good hair” losing its luster mirror his tendency to attack critics’ physical traits, as seen with Stephanopoulos’s height. This pettiness suggests Trump’s initial compliments about Muir’s looks were shallow, turning to scorn when Muir crossed him.

Key Moments of Tension

Beyond the debate, several incidents fueled Trump’s resentment:

2017 White House Interview: Muir’s challenge to Trump’s voter fraud claims and his refusal to let Trump’s CIA speech distortions slide set an early tone of friction. Trump’s insistence that Fox News covered him favorably while ABC “demeaned” him revealed his expectation of loyalty.

2020 COVID-19 Interview: Muir’s failure to push back on Trump’s claim of inheriting “broken tests” from Obama disappointed critics, but Trump still bristled at Muir’s probing about testing access, hinting at underlying tension.

2024 Wildfire Coverage: While not directly tied to Trump, Muir’s 2025 wildfire broadcast—where clothespins cinched his jacket—drew conservative mockery, aligning with Trump’s narrative of Muir as vain and untrustworthy.

Public and Media Reaction

The feud has polarized audiences. Trump supporters, like those at 2024 debate watch parties, booed Muir’s fact-checks, viewing him as biased. On X, users called Muir “pathetic” for his wildfire gaffe, echoing Trump’s “lightweight” jab. Conversely, journalists like Frank Luntz praised Muir’s debate performance for covering diverse topics, and Muir dismissed the backlash as “noise” on Live with Kelly and Mark. ABC insiders defended Muir, noting his focus on the wildfire story despite the clothespin controversy, but the lack of a direct response from Muir allowed Trump’s attacks to dominate conservative discourse.

Why It Resonates Today

As of June 2025, Trump’s second term has intensified scrutiny of his media relationships. His April 2025 ABC interview with Terry Moran, not Muir, underscored the feud’s impact, with sources citing Trump’s refusal to engage with Muir or Stephanopoulos. The clash reflects broader tensions: Trump’s demand for loyalty versus journalism’s duty to challenge, and the personal versus professional in public life. Muir’s 2024 debate role—seen as a defining moment—has cemented his status as a lightning rod for conservative ire, while his silence preserves his journalistic credibility.

Conclusion

Donald Trump’s claim that he “always liked” David Muir was likely a fleeting sentiment, overshadowed by a deeper dislike rooted in ego, betrayal, and ideological divides. From early tensions in 2017 to the explosive 2024 debate, Muir’s commitment to fact-checking clashed with Trump’s need for validation, turning admiration into animosity. Trump’s attacks—calling Muir a “lightweight” and mocking his appearance—reveal a personal grudge, amplified by his distrust of ABC. As this feud continues to unfold, it serves as a microcosm of the challenges facing journalism in a polarized era, where truth-telling can turn a once-favored anchor into a lifelong adversary. For those following this saga, the Trump-Muir rift is a compelling study in power, perception, and the cost of accountability.