A recurring dynamic of the Trump era is that his opponents warn darkly about his secret motives or actions, and then he bluntly confirms their hunches in public.
For years, Democrats insisted that Trump had secret, illicit ties to Russia. Then, in the summer of 2017, Donald Trump Jr. abruptly disclosed a 2016 meeting he’d held with Russians promising “dirt” on Hillary Clinton. “I … worked on this story for a year … and … he just … he tweeted it out,” one writer famously lamented. Two years later, congressional Democrats launched an investigation to prove that the president was privately pressuring Ukraine to investigate the Bidens; Trump promptly asked China, publicly, to do so. He was accused of interfering secretly in the 2020 election; he started just doing it by tweet. More recently, claims spread that Trump was sifting through boxes of documents he’d removed from the White House; when Sean Hannity gave Trump a chance to deny the suggestion, he confirmed it instead.
[David A. Graham: Trump just did it out in the open]
One common anti-Trump belief—one might even call it a conspiracy theory—post-2020 is that Trump is running for president again in 2024 mostly as a way of trying to avoid prosecution in the several current and possible cases against him. He frequently talks about how annoying it was for him to leave behind his comfortable life to be president, and he didn’t really seem to enjoy the job much. His 2024 campaign has so far been mostly about bad personal vibes, not building walls and making Mexico pay for them. Almost exactly a year ago, Rolling Stone reported that Trump was “leaving confidants with the impression that, as his criminal exposure has increased, so has his focus on the legal protections of the executive branch.”
True to form, the former president’s lawyers have now confirmed all these suspicions, contending in a court document that his status as presidential contender ought to indefinitely spare him a trial. In a filing last night to Judge Aileen Cannon, the judge overseeing his indictment for mishandling classified documents, they asked that a trial be delayed at least until after the 2024 election.
For one thing, they write, he’s just too busy. “President Trump is running for President of the United States and is currently the likely Republican Party nominee. This undertaking requires a tremendous amount of time and energy, and that effort will continue until the election on November 5, 2024.” As for his co-defendant, Walt Nauta, his “job requires him to accompany President Trump during most campaign trips around the country. This schedule makes trial preparation with both of the Defendants challenging.” Many defendants in criminal cases would prefer to pursue other opportunities instead of face charges, but that doesn’t usually entitle them to indefinite delay. Although some commentators have argued that a current or prospective president ought to be held to a higher standard of behavior, Trump’s lawyers are effectively arguing the reverse, saying he should receive extra forbearance because of the job he’s seeking.
[David A. Graham: A guide to the indictments of Donald Trump]
They go on to argue that he simply can’t go through the judicial system now because he is running for president: “There is simply no question any trial of this action during the pendency of a Presidential election will impact both the outcome of that election and, importantly, the ability of the Defendants to obtain a fair trial.” (They do, however, nod to his other legal troubles, adding, “Previously scheduled trials in other matters for both President Trump and
defense counsel make it nearly impossible to prepare for this trial by December 2023.”)
The logistical and political hurdles the Trump team identifies aren’t imaginary. No comparable situation has ever occurred in U.S. history, a fact that Trump attributes to persecution but that’s better chalked up to his uniquely aberrant behavior. But the justice system has to balance interests, and the implications of being able to punt the trial just because he has voluntarily decided to run for president are troubling. It would suggest that as long as you are credibly seeking the most powerful position in the land, you can’t be held accountable for your actions.
If Trump wins, he would have the effective power to shut down any federal case against him. He and his allies are already laying the groundwork for further eroding the political insulation of the Department of Justice, which brought the documents case against him. (He would also presumably argue that, once he was president-elect or president, he would be too busy to stand trial.) If he does not win the election, his legal prospects are bleaker—which gives him additional incentives to subvert the election, just as he tried to do in 2020.
[From the January/February 2022 issue: Trump’s next coup has already begun]
Cannon originally proposed an August trial date. Federal prosecutors have requested a delay until December. Cannon’s rulings will be closely scrutinized, not only because of the stakes of the case but because she is a Trump appointee whose procedural rulings before the indictment were widely blasted as too friendly to him.
Her response to the filing will give some indication of the prospects for the case. In the meantime, though, Trump’s critics for years spread the innuendo that he was running to avoid prosecution, and … his legal team … just filed it in federal court.