I disagree with the premise of this article, Giuliani has long been a disgusting human, not beloved by people in my circle, even New Yorkers, even after 9/11.
Jonathan Mahler, of The New York Times, reports:
things seem to have gotten a lot worse for Giuliani. The House has impeached the president largely on the basis of Giuliani’s work, and Giuliani himself has come under investigation for possibly serving as an unregistered agent of a foreign government. And yet he has continued to go on cable television and Twitter, making reckless statements, all the while pressing a bizarre and baseless corruption case against Joe Biden. All of this has left a lot of people puzzled. How did a man who was once — pick your former Rudy: priestly prosecutor, avenging crime-buster, America’s mayor — become this guy, ranting on TV, unapologetically pursuing debunked conspiracy theories, butt-dialing reporters, sharing photos of himself scheming in actual smoke-filled rooms? What happened?
(click here to continue reading The Fog of Rudy – Did He Change or Did America – The New York Times.)
Eventually Jonathan Mahler comes to find that the current Rudy is much like the old Rudy, short on ethics, long on grand-standing.
Giuliani’s freewheeling, unconstrained-by-truth style was perhaps a little surprising to some: Was this not the principled prosecutor who made his name taming political corruption and organized crime? But while Giuliani was fighting the Mueller investigation on TV, I was researching his years as a federal prosecutor, and what I was learning about his past seemed perfectly consistent with what I was seeing in the present. As a lawyer, Giuliani had also been willing to do whatever seemed necessary to win: freezing defendants’ assets before they were proved guilty of a crime; issuing subpoenas to defense lawyers; and in one case surreptitiously recording a cooperating witness’s meeting with his opposing counsel, Thomas Puccio (who had a few years earlier served as lead prosecutor in the government’s Abscam case). He prejudiced juries, creating a spectacle in the process, by insisting that jurors be identified by numbers only for their own safety — a novel practice at the time — even when there was no evidence that they were at any risk of retaliation. He overreached, sometimes extravagantly, and then refused to back down: When a lack of evidence forced Giuliani to withdraw his insider-trading indictment of the Goldman Sachs partner Robert Freeman, he insisted that he would file another one soon, with even more counts, and in ‘‘record-breaking time.’’ Nearly two years later, Giuliani left the United States attorney’s office, and there was still no indictment. (Freeman ultimately pleaded guilty to a single count of mail fraud.)
The conservative writer William Safire assailed Giuliani in a 1986 column in this newspaper. ‘‘Don’t Ed Meese and Stephen Trott at the Department of Justice care about controlling political prosecutors who will do anything for publicity?’’ he wrote. ‘‘Anything does not go.’’
Did anything go? In the criminal-justice system, Giuliani’s unchecked zeal produced mixed results: He won some big cases, but not all of his victories endured; a number of his white-collar convictions were later overturned.
The first rule for a modern fog machine like Giuliani is that the more you talk, the more confusion you can create
Again, those who paid attention to the truth of Rudy, not the corporate media PR, already knew this about him.