Donald Trump has unleashed the pardon power in ways the Constitution's architects never imagined. Since returning to office, he has granted over 1,800 pardons to financial fraudsters, drug traffickers, January 6 rioters, and a parade of allies and family associates. The pattern is unmistakable: pardons flow to those who flatter him, donate to him, or break the law on his behalf.
When Alexander Hamilton championed broad presidential pardon authority at the 1787 Constitutional Convention, he envisioned a tool wielded with "scrupulousness and caution." Trump's approach bears no resemblance to that ideal. His pardons have become a transactional currency, a reward system for loyalty, and a shield against accountability that threatens the rule of law itself.
The scope of the damage is staggering. Trump pardoned more than 1,500 January 6 rioters, including 175 who were charged with assaulting police officers with deadly weapons. These were not small-scale trespasses but a coordinated assault on the constitutional order. The framers explicitly did not envision pardons for those attacking the seat of government.
The conflicts of interest are brazen. Paul Walczak, a nursing home executive convicted of stealing over $10 million in payroll taxes to buy a $2 million yacht, received a pardon after his mother paid $1 million to attend a Trump fundraiser. Trump issued the pardon just 12 days after sentencing, sparing Walczak from prison and a $4.4 million restitution order.
Crypto billionaire Changpeng Zhao won his pardon after Binance, the exchange he founded, made unusual efforts to boost the Trump family's World Liberty Financial crypto venture, catapulting its value from $125 million to over $2.1 billion. The pardon will likely allow Binance to resume US operations.
Trump commuted the sentence of Jason Galanis, a fraudster who stole $80 million from union pension funds and the Oglala Sioux tribe. That clemency erased the $80 million in restitution owed to workers and the tribe, all because Galanis had testified in a House inquiry into the Biden family. Trump also pardoned former Honduran President Juan Orlando Hernandez, imprisoned for 45 years for facilitating hundreds of tons of cocaine shipments into the United States.
George Santos, the Long Island congressman who stole from donors and committed identity fraud against 11 people, served just months of a seven-year sentence before Trump freed him. The justification: loyalty to Trump's agenda.
What makes this crisis acute is Trump's reported promise to pardon administration officials broadly. The Wall Street Journal quoted him as saying he would "pardon everyone who has come within 200 feet of the Oval," though the White House claimed it was a joke. The message is unmistakable to anyone in government: break the law if Trump orders it, and you will be protected.
This creates an invitation to lawlessness. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, for instance, could theoretically order illegal military operations with confidence that a Trump pardon awaits. Seditious conspirators from the Proud Boys and Oath Keepers received commutations, sending a signal that political violence carries no penalty if Trump approves. Election-day voter intimidation by Trump supporters, followed by mass pardons, is no longer unimaginable.
Liz Oyer, who served as Joe Biden's pardon attorney, captured the betrayal: "Trump has totally lost sight of using the pardon power in the public interest. The core rationale for pardons was to give the president a tool to make our justice system fairer by remedying injustice."
The Supreme Court has long held that presidential pardon power is absolute and unreviewable. That doctrine must change. The Court should prohibit pardons when the recipient or their family members have effectively purchased clemency through fundraiser donations, campaign contributions, or other enrichments to the president or his family. It should forbid pardons to those who have helped a president grow personal wealth.
Legal scholars will invoke the Constitution's plain language granting pardon power without limitation. But several Supreme Court justices have warned that the Constitution is not a "suicide pact." The Court itself abandoned the notion of absolute presidential immunity in recent years when confronted with Trump's election schemes, recognizing that unchecked executive power threatens democracy.
The pardon crisis demands the same judicial intervention. If Trump can use clemency to reward seditionists, silence witnesses, enrich himself, and immunize subordinates from prosecution for following illegal orders, the pardon power becomes an instrument of authoritarianism. The Court must act.
Author James Rodriguez: "The Supreme Court has the power and the duty to step in, and it cannot hide behind originalism when democracy itself hangs in the balance."
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