The Trial Of The Semiquincentennial
Donald Trump, the former president of the United States, was arraigned today in a federal courtroom on some very serious felony charges. The most striking thing about today's events, however, was how routine they have now become. This is (depending on how you count them) either the third such indictment of Trump or the fourth (I would say third, as the previous court filing was merely a superseded indictment that beefed up his second indictment, so the two should really be seen as only one). And Trump could have one more serious indictment and arraignment in his very near future, in Fulton County, Georgia. As with just about everything to do with Trump's presidency, this is all unprecedented. But it's also becoming routine.
The media knew this, and today's coverage was a lot more low-key than it had been previously. They knew they weren't going to get any shots of Trump inside the courthouse, and they were further constrained by the fact that no helicopter/drone footage of the motorcade was possible (due to D.C. being heavily-restricted airspace, for obvious reasons). To make up for the lack, Trump allowed a media vehicle to ride with his motorcade, so we got shots through the windshield of the arrival and departure of the Trump convoy. The crowds outside the courthouse were a lot smaller, continuing a trend. And from the early accounts, even the proceedings inside the courtroom were a lot more relaxed than the previous two Trump has faced.
We're not quite at the point of: "In other news, Donald Trump was arraigned on more felony charges today -- meanwhile, in sports...." But we're certainly closer than we were in the first two arraignments.
Even Trump restrained himself. He did give a very brief statement on the tarmac of the airport, right before he boarded his namesake plane for the ride back to his golf club in New Jersey. He took no questions from the press. And for the first time, he has not scheduled a celebratory rally for later in the day, so we won't get a bombastic speech from him as a coda to the day's events. He also (wisely) didn't try to turn the day into a campaign event -- the way he did in Florida for his second arraignment, where his motorcade stopped at a local restaurant and Trump schmoozed with the crowd inside and reaped a whole bunch of free ("unearned") media time. To be blunt, it'd be a lot harder to find such a friendly restaurant that would host such a stunt in Washington. None of that took place today -- even Trump's statement to the press was both restrained (...well, for him) and very short.
But no matter how routine the machinations of the justice system have become, these charges are the big ones. Donald Trump now stands accused of criminally interfering in a presidential election in order to manufacture his own "steal" of the results, and continually lying about how the election was conducted even though he knew it none of it was true. This is not some tawdry payoff to an adult film personality, this is not Trump hiding national security documents and refusing to give them back even when subpoenaed, this is instead Donald Trump being accused of subverting American democracy.
I heard one phrase being used to describe how serious all of this is, and while at first it seemed a little over-the-top (not to mention being a rather clunky phrase) it is beginning to grow on me: "This will be the trial of the semiquincentennial." Not just "of the century," in other words, but "of the past 250 years of American history." While the word is complex and does not roll off the tongue with ease, it is a word we're all going to become very used to hearing over the next three years (as we approach July 4th, 2026, America's 250th birthday). Clunky or not, it seems a fair description, since no former president has ever even attempted to do what Trump did to stay in power.
Republicans are generally masters at projection -- accusing others of sins that they themselves are quite guilty of. But we have never seen this put into action on such a massive scale before. Trump knew he lost. He knew the only way to stay in power was by hook or by crook. So he proceeded to accuse the other side of "the big steal" and held "Stop the Steal!" rallies, when in actual fact Trump was the one plotting how he could steal the election after the fact. He begged other Republican officeholders in battleground states to just "find" enough votes for him to be falsely declared the winner. His legal minions tried to get legislatures in several states to overturn the voice of the people and just declare Trump the winner by fiat. These minions also schemed to create "fake electors" that could muddy the waters during the previously-ceremonial event of Congress counting the certified results from every state. Trump tried everything his crackpot legal team came up with, no matter how blatantly illegal such actions were. He ignored everybody who told him (repeatedly) that he had lost and that he should just gracefully hand over power.
Trump's own vice president may be the prosecution's star witness against him. That is another stunning and unprecedented situation. This brings up an interesting point (which I heard mentioned during all the broadcast television coverage today). The judge in the case issued a fairly standard restriction for Trump to follow between now and the end of the trial: Trump cannot speak about the case with anyone who might be a witness in the case, at least not without his lawyers being present. He was also admonished not to engage in witness intimidation or tampering. Again, fairly standard stuff, but what will happen later this month when the first Republican presidential debate is held? Mike Pence still hasn't qualified for this debate -- he is apparently still 10,000 donors shy of the 40,000 required -- but he will likely do so by the time it is held. But Mike Pence could be the key witness against Trump and the subject of today's indictment is almost certainly going to come up at some point during that debate. This is assuming Trump is even present -- he has been teasing that he's going to skip the first few debates, which would certainly solve the legal problem. Even Tim Scott might also fall into the same category as Pence, since as a sitting U.S. senator, Scott was present in the Capitol on January 6th.
In reality, this likely won't be a problem. I doubt Trump will be flanked by his lawyers on the debate stage, if he does decide to show up (and if Pence makes it as well). The judge may issue a ruling allowing Trump to attend debates with possible witnesses, but even if she doesn't it's hard to see how a debate with live microphones, broadcast live to the entire country, could be mistaken for Trump trying to privately intimidate a witness -- but you never know. I could actually see Trump dishing out some intimidation to Pence right there on the stage. With Trump, you just never know what's going to come out of his mouth, especially in a combative situation.
America faces a situation the country has never faced before: an ex-president accused of serious crimes against the country's democracy. While he campaigns in an attempt to reclaim the White House. Donald Trump is the frontrunner of the Republican pack of candidates, by a stunning amount. Unless things drastically change in the next six months, he could be headed to easily securing the GOP nomination for the presidency. The crimes he has now been formally accused of deal with his reaction to his last election -- an election he lost to Joe Biden. By the end of this month we may get a scheduled date for when this trial will begin, and the big question is whether it will happen before or after the 2024 election. Trump's legal strategy is just as unconventional and unprecedented as everything else about it all -- he intends to run out the clock, push the case (or the appeals of it) out past the election, win the election, and then either pardon himself the minute he takes office or instruct his attorney general to fire the special counsel and drop the entire matter. This is a test of the Constitution and democracy the Framers could hardly have ever even imagined.
So as awkward and clunky as it sounds... yeah... this is going to be the trial of the semiquincentennial.
-- Chris Weigant
Follow Chris on Twitter: @ChrisWeigant
Semiquincentennial. Learned a new word today! Awkward and clunky, indeed.
I was just listening to a panel discussion on CNN Re. the trial of the Semiquincentennial ... well, they are calling it the trial of the century, for now, until they learn about Chris's superior terminology. (say it enough times, Caddy, and it actually does roll off your tongue quite easily)
A couple of pertinent points made and agreed by all, regardless of position, title or party affiliation:
(1) Cameras need to be in this courtroom. Period! Should not be up for debate, even if it takes the chief justice of the US Supreme Court to make it happen.
(2) Team Trump must be given every possible opportunity to bring everything they wish to discovery, including a rehashing of all of the state lawsuits that Trump undertook to uncover election/vote fraud.
I agree, too, wholeheartedly.
I wonder if Trump's lawyers will be able to keep him from testifying if there are cameras in the courtroom. :)
Trial of the Semiquincentennial is ridiculous pedantry. The word is absurd (Half-five-hundred-year-celebration) and should just go away. Nobody flatters themself who uses a phrase like that.
Why not the 'Trial of the Century'? Everyone knows what it means.
And is this trial unique in US constitutional history? I suggest the Trial of the 19th Century was the trial of Jefferson Davis for treason in 1869, even if the trial itself was cancelled because of ... difficulties, aka Reconstruction and Andrew Johnson.
The Trial of the 18th Century was the trial of Aaron Burr for treason in 1807, which actually took place but resulted in his acquittal on a technicality involving the constitution's very specific definition of treason. He tried to get the western U.S. territories to break away from the country and join him, under British sponsorship, in setting up a breakaway country that would be hostile to the eastern U.S. Treason indeed. At least Trump hasn't yet tried to sell part of the U.S., say the Red States, to Russia.
John,
But, how many voters today do you think know about all of that?
At least Trump hasn't yet tried to sell part of the U.S., say the Red States, to Russia.
...at least, not that we know of!
Elizabeth yes, it does roll once ya give it a couple of tries.
John M from Ct. I think you’re a little harsh but that’s just a matter of having different preferences and taste. And I appreciate the Trial of the Century 101.
Yup, Aaron Burr, the guy who actually DID shoot someone in the middle of... well, weehawken, new jersey. But still. I'm not quite clear how his trial (not for shooting anyone, mind you) could belong to the 18th century if it happened seven years into the nineteenth.
In any case, trial of the 17th has to go to the Salem witches.
John M from Ct.
4
The Trial of the 18th Century was the trial of Aaron Burr for treason in 1807, which actually took place but resulted in his acquittal on a technicality involving the constitution's very specific definition of treason.
Speaking of "technicality," 1807 is in the 19th Century, but definitely a major trial in the 1800s. The "Trial of the Century" for the 18th is the Boston Massacre circa 1770, starring (future president) John Adams; however, some might reasonably argue that century's "honor" belongs to the turncoat Benedict Arnold.
As for the Trump Trials, any of the multiple trials involving Delusional Donald (who claimed to have won every state) should most definitely be referred to as "The Greatest Show on Earth" because we're talking about the clown car, the 3-ring circus, and the bigliest con artist in America, whom I have been known to refer to as:
* PT (President Trump) because of his resemblance to hoax artist, businessman, and politician Phineas Taylor Barnum, and
* Benedict Donald because of his lust for money and title and obvious similarity to the Turncoat Arnold.
So, to recap: Greatest Show on Earth.
nypoet22
8|9
I'm not quite clear how his trial (not for shooting anyone, mind you) could belong to the 18th century if it happened seven years into the nineteenth.
Exactly.
In any case, trial of the 17th has to go to the Salem witches.
Witch-hunt. ;)
I'm tempted of make the observation that the real "indictment" under way in American politics at this time should be the indictment of the segment of the American electorate that was stupid enough to ever allow the likes of Donald Trump to become president, EXCEPT for the fact that a substantial number of them might be found innocent based on the fact that what they actually thought they were doing was voting AGAINST Hillary.
Joshua[8],
You gotta love how quick everyone is around here to correct mistakes that, if there had been an edit function, would have been quickly corrected by the commenter himself. ;)
Thanks to all for the commentary and 'correction'. In fact, I know 1807 is in the 19th century. But I was thinking about previous *treason* trials (no troops firing on civilians, no witches, etc.) in the earlier centuries of American history. Lacking one for the actual 18th century I used poetic license to nominate Burr's trial, on the grounds that it was litigated by what I'd call men of the 18th century - the so-called Founding Fathers or Framers - only a few short years after 1800 had rung its New Year's bell.
I knew you knew that! :)
John M from Ct.
15
Thanks to all for the commentary and 'correction'.
You're certainly welcome.
In fact, I know 1807 is in the 19th century.
I thought maybe you just typed it wrong, but thank you in return for explaining it wasn't an error but "poetic license" that you intentionally used.
But I was thinking about previous *treason* trials (no troops firing on civilians, no witches, etc.) in the earlier centuries of American history. Lacking one for the actual 18th century I used poetic license to nominate Burr's trial, on the grounds that it was litigated by what I'd call men of the 18th century - the so-called Founding Fathers or Framers - only a few short years after 1800 had rung its New Year's bell.
Thank you for explaining your use of "poetic license" to decide how the founding fathers tried Burr for treason in the "18th century." Next time you find yourself at a loss for a trial for treason in the "actual 18th Century," you might consider the Whiskey Rebellion and the subsequent treason trials in Philadelphia, the nation's capitol at that time, wherein Secretary of the Treasury Alexander Hamilton passed through the First United States Congress legislation imposing an excise tax on domestic whiskey in order to pay off states' debts that were assumed by Congress in 1790 and to generate revenue for debts incurred during the Revolutionary War. Fast forward to 1794 wherein George Washington ordered a militia upwards of between 12,000 to 13,000 troops and rounded up about 20 or so rebels and tried them for treason against the United States in the "actual 18th century." :)
Kick,
Excellent material, and good thoughts about the Whiskey Rebellion.
All that's missing there is the "Hero Traitor" of a stature with Burr, Davis, and Trump: gentlemen of rank and office in the U.S. government who turned on it and tried to do it in.
@kick,
Witch-hunt. ;)
point!
by the by, did you ever see my posts to you a week or three back? i found a logical fallacy that isn't on the panda list.