In his own defense: Fattah Jr. won't back down in PR battle

Chaka "Chip" Fattah Jr. spent the morning of his conviction on federal theft and fraud charges negotiating a deal - the exclusive rights to his first post-verdict television interview.

He had a list of demands.

"Send an Uber," he told an NBC10 reporter Thursday as he bargained over his cellphone outside the courtroom where a jury would later find him guilty of 22 of the 23 counts he faced.

"Make it a 'Black' one," he said, referring to the service's higher-end fleet. "An SUV."

He suggested sending "guys in suits" to escort him from what would surely be a gaggle of cameras waiting outside the courthouse. But most important, the son of U.S. Rep. Chaka Fattah (D., Pa.) insisted, he wanted an uninterrupted 10- to 15-minute block at the top of the newscast to get his unedited message across.

For a man representing himself in a complex felony case now poised to send him to prison for at least four years, Fattah's focus Thursday on publicity might seem misplaced.

Then again, this was the same man who on an August night last year alerted reporters from half a dozen news outlets that he expected to be charged in a federal case the next morning.

As the self-styled "entrepreneur, socialite, and lifestyle mogul" explained it in an interview the day after his conviction, perception is everything. In his view, he said, how his case was seen outside the courtroom was just as important as anything that happened inside.

"Look, what I know about marketing and my success in business is figuring out the message and getting it out there," he said Friday. "It's not running away from an opportunity to reach millions of people."

It was a philosophy that Fattah embraced throughout his three-week trial - at times to the chagrin of his congressman father, his family's legal advisers, and his own court-appointed standby counsel.

Whether wading gleefully into scrums of reporters during breaks in court or beating his chest over social media, he never passed up an opportunity for publicity - even of the unflattering variety.

His Twitter taunts of federal authorities and his willingness to trade text messages with reporters during witness testimony seemed both to amuse and confuse prosecutors.

"Mr. Fattah believes that anyone within earshot of the sound of his voice has to believe him no matter how absurd the words that are coming out of his mouth," Assistant U.S. Attorney Eric Gibson told jurors during his closing arguments last week.

Even now, Fattah describes his decision to act as his own lawyer in terms that have more to do with marketing than legal strategy.

"Representing myself gave me the opportunity to shape my own message to the jury," he said.

Fattah, 32, grew up in a family steeped in media awareness.

Managing public perception is an integral part of his father's political life. His stepmother, NBC10 news anchor Renee Chenault-Fattah, has been prominent in Philadelphia for years. And Fattah himself studied marketing and public relations at Drexel University, though he never finished his degree.

And yet, Fattah's fixation on his public persona sat at the heart of the government's case against him.

Prosecutors accused him of cloaking himself in the credibility of designer brands, powerful political connections, and an ultimately hollow sheen of success to persuade banks to grant him thousands of dollars in business loans that he spent on himself and failed to pay back.

But even as colorful details emerged about his extravagant spending, Fattah, at least publicly, embraced them with gusto.

Responding over Instagram to an Oct. 30 news story that referenced his predilection for pricey suits, Fattah, who now lives with his mother in Overbrook, wrote: "#I #like #nice #things."

When his sister, Fran, began to tell a reporter in court the next day that her brother did not actually wear designer clothes, he cut her off before she could finish.

At least twice during testimony, prosecutors sought to turn his publicity-hound tendencies against him.

Testifying for the government, Fattah's former roommate and ex-business partner Matthew Amato regaled jurors with the story of how he and Fattah managed to land a blurb recommending their personal concierge service American Royalty in Philadelphia Magazine even though at the time, he said, the company didn't exist.

Other government witnesses raised the issue of a $15,000 tab Fattah once ran up at the Capital Grille - but much of the testimony focused on a Philadelphia Daily News gossip-column item about the bill and the public relations expert Fattah hired to plant a follow-up story once the bill was settled.

The way he sees it, it was the government that first used the media as a tool.

He pointed to Richard J. Haag, the lead FBI investigator on the case, who admitted from the witness stand that he had tipped off an Inquirer reporter to a 2012 raid on Fattah's Ritz-Carlton condo and Logan Square office.

That decision - which is the subject of a lawsuit Fattah filed last year against the U.S. Justice Department - forced him to respond publicly to allegations before he had even been charged, he said.

And though prosecutors rarely spoke to reporters during his trial, Fattah believes they waged a covert smear campaign by highlighting details about his personal life they knew would be reported in the press - like testimony about the framed American Express black cards he hung on his wall or the room he devoted in his apartment to his collection of fine Italian suits.

(Federal authorities have defended those descriptions of Fattah's expensive tastes, saying they sketch out his motive for repeatedly cheating others out of money.)

"Who cares what kind of suits I wear or ties I like?" Fattah said Friday, taking time to point out the Louis Vuitton hoodie and sneakers he was wearing. "If I had cheap suits and other cheap clothing - would that change the bank and tax fraud charges? I don't think so."

Whether or not the media attention he has sought helped him in court, Fattah maintains it won him support in the community.

He recalled a group of lawyers who recognized him entering the courthouse last week and urged him to "give 'em hell."

The day after his conviction, he said, two women stopped and asked to take selfies with him as he bought newspapers with front-page headlines on his trial.

"I'm getting a level of support even now," he said.

In his final words to jurors last week, Fattah paused to mention that "the government has shown throughout this trial that I don't have a problem generating publicity."

And sure enough, when Fattah left the federal courthouse Thursday just moments after his conviction, a black SUV sent by NBC10 sat waiting for him on Market Street.

jroebuck@phillynews.com

215-854-2608@jeremyrroebuck