Meet Stephen Miller — Trump’s ‘PM’ and the man with the plan for Greenland
According to those on the inside, the White House Deputy Chief of Staff and architect of ICE doesn’t just have the President’s ear — he shapes what goes into it. So who is the man who was in the Mar-a-Lago war room during the strike against Venezuela, and is now urging action against Greenland? Anne McElvoy reports

Stephen Miller rocked the world this week when he took to the airwaves and declared that Greenland “should be part of the United States,” insisting that no country would dare fight the US over the territory’s future. The bracing “America first” message came as an unpleasant shock for many, but it was all in a day’s work for those who had experience of the man credited with turning Donald Trump’s words into policy deeds.
Described by Steve Bannon, the ultra-conservative pundit, as “Trump’s Prime Minister,” Miller, 40, has long been one of the “true believers” who can make the unthinkable happen. Not for nothing is Trump’s Deputy Chief of Staff lavishly trolled by California Governor Gavin Newsom, who casts him as Voldemort — the source of evil in the world of Harry Potter.
It was hardly surprising, then, that a photograph issued by the White House seemed to show that Miller may have been one of the few people in the Mar-a-Lago “war room” as President Trump monitored US military strikes against Venezuela. He is also credited with being one of the key architects of ICE, having served as senior adviser to the President during his first term. Even after leaving office, Miller continued to defend ICE and shape immigration rhetoric, making good on the pledge to “oversee the largest deportation operation in American history.” It’s why critics often describe ICE as being “run from the White House,” with Miller as one of its most powerful behind-the-scenes drivers.
Until recently, Miller, whose twin roles currently include Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy and Homeland Security Adviser, appeared content with modest titles, so long as he retained the power to enact policy and ensure its delivery. But this week, he thrust himself into the limelight like never before with his forthright and contentious statements that America should, and could, “take” Greenland.
One of the President’s inner circle since the 2016 campaign, Miller’s influence stretches back to the melee of Trump’s first run, and in the second presidential incarnation he has become the prime implementer of “America first” thinking. From national security decisions to the endgame of Ukraine-Russia talks, and now the withdrawal from dozens of UN-led and climate-crisis-combating organizations, Miller cuts a saturnine figure feared by many for his brutal teardowns of those around him.
One UK trade official says: “If you fall on the wrong side of what he wants, whatever else you’ve agreed counts for nothing,” adding: “Miller doesn’t just have the President’s ear, he shapes what goes into it, which is far more important.” While figures such as Scott Bessent at the Treasury or Howard Lutnick at Commerce maintain friendly relations with the UK — particularly as a new ambassador, Christian Turner, takes up his post — Miller is no cocktail-sipping diplomat. His days are a relentless round of pressure, and brow-beating anyone who gets in his way.
Even in this gloves-off realm, Miller is seen as a bare-knuckle fighter for the MAGA cause. While Secretary of State Marco Rubio suggested the issue of Greenland could be handled more delicately to shore up security in a way that suits US interests, Miller went straight into fight mode, telling CNN: “What is their basis for having Greenland as a colony of Denmark? The United States is the power of NATO... Obviously, Greenland should be part of the United States.”
One view of these abrupt “Millerisms” is that they serve to make the final outcomes of Trump’s foreign policies seem less extreme. Democrats such as Newsom needle Miller mercilessly, trolling him as a glum-faced automaton and posting: “AS PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED, WE ARE GIVING SERIOUS THOUGHT TO TAKING AWAY STEPHEN MILLER’S CALIFORNIA RESIDENCY.”

The only authoritative biography of Miller is Hatemonger: Stephen Miller, Donald Trump, and the White Nationalist Agenda, by American reporter Jean Guerrero, published in 2020. She describes his early childhood in a $1m, five-bedroom home in the North of Montana area of Santa Monica — one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in greater Los Angeles.
At school, Miller was known for baiting liberal-minded peers and teachers, reportedly throwing rubbish on the floor and demanding the cleaning staff pick it up. “Am I the only one here who is sick and tired of being told to pick up my trash when we have plenty of janitors who are paid to do it for us?” he once said.
While many classmates found his behaviour abhorrent, Miller cast himself as a free-speech champion. An aversion to immigration drove his trajectory from California schooldays to Duke University, where he read politics, and later to Breitbart — the right-wing news website. When Trump declared, “Our whole country is rotting, like a third-world country,” Miller emailed friends: “Trump gets it... I wish he’d run for President.” A year later, Trump launched his campaign, and Miller, barely 30, joined it.
More than almost anyone else in Trump’s orbit, Miller now pushes the pace and scope of the President’s doctrine. He is still seen as the central force driving immigration enforcement and asylum removals, turning ICE into one of the most feared federal agencies in the country.
Miller set targets of thousands of deportations a day, blurring the distinction between asylum seekers and undocumented migrants. The use of force as a means to an end has been normalised, at home and abroad. On Monday night, talking about Greenland on CNN, Miller shared what might be called the Trump Doctrine, telling Jake Tapper: “We live in a world, in the real world, Jake, that is governed by strength, that is governed by force, that is governed by power. These are the iron laws of the world since the beginning of time.”

Many figures in Trump’s universe love to talk — JD Vance rarely stops issuing opinions — but Miller is known for his tart tongue and terse delivery. “Donald Trump without the sense of humour,” says one veteran of the 2016 campaign.
I first encountered him that year, as he lurked at the edge of the cordon in the plush velvet of the massive Trump Hotel, his famous perpetually sulky expression a contrast to the giddy roar and glitz of the rest of the Trump team. Among them was Ivanka, Trump’s daughter, who is married to Jared Kushner, the Middle East and Ukraine talks envoy. Miller was seen as “a bit too much”. Later, as a “zero tolerance” immigration policy led to thousands of children being separated from their parents at the southern border, Melania Trump — along with Ivanka — expressed discomfort and urged Trump to change course. They did not prevail, and Miller’s continued rise is cited as one possible reason for Ivanka’s decision to step back during Trump’s second presidency.
His demanding nature is notorious. The Atlantic recently cited a senior official who has participated in his infamous progress-chasing calls: “He pushes everybody to the absolute limit because he knows that the clock is ticking,” the source said. “He gets on the phone and he yells at everybody. Nobody is spared from his wrath.” Miller “counts in thousands,” one figure who defends illegal migrants tells me, speaking anonymously for fear of reprisals against his clients and colleagues.
Miller is so purist in his beliefs that even the President jokes about his zeal. When I attended a Christian Conservative-MAGA event not long ago at the Liberty University, General Mike Flynn spoke at length in biblical terms about America being “one step away from destruction” and locked in a battle with the “forces of darkness.” That language is religious in inspiration and has been honed by Miller as a way of adding a Christian Conservative framework to the personality cult of MAGA. As The Nation noted in a recent profile of Miller, the most memorable line of Trump’s 2017 inauguration — “This American carnage stops right here and stops right now” — came straight from Miller’s pen.
Miller’s glamorous wife, Katie, a Conservative podcaster targeting middle-America mums, is on-message too, unnerving European leaders with a social media post depicting a stars and stripes flag covering a map of Greenland under the word “SOON”. Even the couple’s marriage in 2020 was blessed in Trump’s presence at the Trump Hotel.
How Vance views Miller’s growing prominence is unclear, but, make no mistake, the fight for MAGA’s future is already underway. With Rubio another contender, it is no coincidence that Miller has played a prominent role in the capture of Nicolas Maduro and the escalation over Greenland, signaling a new phase in the administration’s disregard for international norms.

“Stephen’s mode is always to outdo any other competitor on the Trump team,” says one former aide. Even Trump has joked about Miller “sitting at the top of the totem pole” in his hierarchy. The public profile Miller now enjoys is a far cry from the sweaty backroom world of Breitbart websites and trying to keep the 2016 election message centred. While Newsom’s barbs about Miller as Voldemort, the incarnation of bad intentions, might amuse America’s battered liberals, it is worth remembering that Voldemort wielded power for a very long time before his downfall.
Trump without Miller, reflects a former campaigning colleague, “would be far less effective across so many areas of this presidency.” Beyond the Trump era, the fight for the future of the right is already starting — and Miller shows every sign of being a central player at the heart of what could be a very fraught battlefield.
Anne McElvoy is host of the ‘Politics at Sam and Anne’s’ podcast and executive editor at Politico
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