A diplomatic spat between Donald Trump and Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni recently revealed something curious about how the U.S. president handles the press: if a journalist has his personal number, there's a good chance he'll actually pick up.
The latest episode began when an Italian TV reporter, Daniele Compatangelo of La7, called Trump directly. The president brushed off a question about Ukraine and the Middle East, then pivoted to comments about Meloni — including a jab claiming she had "begged" him for a photo at the G7. The remark triggered a diplomatic row, fought out indirectly through dueling press statements rather than face to face.
This wasn't an isolated incident. Back in April, Corriere della Sera's Washington correspondent Viviana Mazza managed to reach Trump by phone and has spoken with him several times since. According to Mazza, some American reporters have held onto Trump's personal number since his first term, but he's become noticeably more willing to give impromptu phone interviews since intensified Middle East tensions began in late February.
One of the most striking examples came in January, when a New York Times reporter reached Trump at 4:30 a.m. for a reaction to the capture of former Venezuelan president Nicolás Maduro — squeezing in four questions in under a minute. That kind of rushed, chaotic exchange has become something of its own genre, distinct from the carefully staged interviews politicians usually grant.
So how do reporters actually get the number? There's no single trick. Some call early in the morning or late at night, hoping to catch Trump between official engagements. Others trade contacts — offering access to a foreign head of state's number in exchange for his. A few, like NBC's Kristen Welker, simply asked him for it after a live interview. Family members or business associates close to Trump are another possible source, as is, in some cases, foreign governments themselves.
Major U.S. outlets reportedly have the number but keep it under wraps; among foreign press, Axios's Barak Ravid is known for his long-running phone access to Trump.
One Washington reporter has called it the capital's worst-kept secret — a kind of status symbol in a city built on proximity to power. The calls themselves tend to follow a pattern: brief, combative, and dominated by whatever message Trump wants to deliver, regardless of what he's actually asked.
