Greenland actually released two reports, adding yet another layer of bureaucratic confusion to an already tangled record. The official report accepted by Greenland found a reasonable basis to believe that Denmark had systematically imposed measures preventing Inuit births, but said a final determination of genocidal intent would require a broader examination of Denmark’s treatment of the Inuit during that period. Yet in searching for Denmark’s intent, the report largely ignored what are arguably some of the most significant facts in the historical record. Those facts, while likely uncomfortable for the liberal-minded international establishment, could have helped fill the very evidentiary gap the experts said remained: evidence that Denmark’s campaign grew out of an international movement expressly devoted to population control.

The competing “rogue” report declared that there had been no systemic effort to limit births at all, and that determining whether violations occurred required individual inquiries into what had happened between each patient and doctor. Its authors had independently reassessed the historical findings and introduced additional material, something Greenland said they had not been empowered to do. Greenland did not accept this second report after a peer review found that it failed to satisfy recognized scientific standards, and the justice minister determined it had not fulfilled the expert group’s mandate.

The question remaining under the official report was this: Was Denmark’s 1966 to 1975 “Spiral Campaign,” which inserted IUDs into thousands of Greenlandic women and girls, some only twelve years old and, in many reported cases, without consent or parental knowledge, part of a systemic effort to control the Inuit population? Or was it legitimate family planning intended to extend contraceptive choice? These procedures occurred across Greenland’s remote, frozen communities while Denmark controlled Greenland’s government health system, operated the schools through which the girls were channeled, and employed the doctors who administered them.

After decades of silence, the story finally broke through in 2022, when a Danish investigative podcast brought the women’s accounts to international attention. Denmark and Greenland commissioned a fact-finding investigation to examine the available evidence and reconstruct what had occurred.

The resulting 348-page Historical Report was released in September 2025. It is comprehensive to the point of exhaustion and devotes extensive attention to how the campaign was conceived, initiated, and put into operation, with page after page tracing the work of NGO’s, committees, commissions, ministries, medical boards, school authorities, and other government bodies woven through Denmark’s broader state system. The report also identifies multiple demographic concerns surrounding Greenland’s rapidly growing population and the economic and social pressures officials believed would follow.

The Historical Report, however, is written in the familiar language of institutional responsibility: the system is everywhere, but no individual decision-maker is made to stand in the foreground, and no responsibility or blame is assigned. And importantly, it does not indicate what laws were broken.

For that, Greenland also appointed four human rights experts in 2024 to determine whether the facts established by the Historical Report violated international human rights law, including the Genocide Convention. After working together for nearly two years, the group fractured and produced the two reports released last week.

While those reports were taking shape, Denmark’s prime minister formally apologized in September 2025 for the “systematic discrimination” and abuse inflicted upon Greenlandic women and girls by the Spiral Campaign. The word “systematic” resonated. Denmark was acknowledging that these injuries were not merely isolated mistakes by a few individual doctors.

Yet the release of two reports, and the unnecessarily complicated presentation of the issue and facts, have compounded the bureaucratic diffusion that has helped conceal the truth for decades. And so, the issue remains unsettled, and the victims remain without a clear path to justice or accountability. This is largely because the official report says the record does not fully establish why Denmark did what it did. This is despite the Historical Report devoting much of its first major section to the demographic concerns, institutional alliances, policy decisions, and medical machinery that produced the Spiral Campaign.

And so, with the genocide question still unresolved, Greenland announced yet another committee, this one a “truth and reconciliation” commission. But Greenland was finally candid about something – a point that has been apparent, though unstated, for some time: the commission is not designed to blame anyone or hold anyone accountable. Prime Minister Jens Frederik Nielsen said its work “should not be about assigning blame, but about uncovering the truth with a view to genuine reconciliation.”

The Official Report and International Law

Upon the recent release of the human rights reports, news organizations and the international law commentariat rushed to publish their analyses. Some announced that there had been no genocide. Others suggested that genocide had effectively been established. Still others carefully explained the competing conclusions and distinct legal questions. The coverage only deepened the confusion.

International law is unusually susceptible to this kind of ambiguity because, unlike domestic law, it often lacks a reliable mechanism for compulsory enforcement; when enforcement does occur, it is frequently shaped as much by diplomacy, state consent, and geopolitical power as by legal doctrine. Indeed, in this case, the geopolitical reality of Donald Trump’s interest in Greenland may be shaping events as much as the law itself. This structural weakness has helped foster an international professional class whose work often centers on theorizing, interpreting, debating, and refining legal principles that can remain largely aspirational across institutions, conferences, journals, and advisory bodies, at some distance from the more traditional work of representing individual clients, proving claims, and securing enforceable remedies. And the confusion often hides the obvious.

Applying the Genocide Convention to the facts established by the Historical Report here should not have been particularly difficult. The Convention’s language is not mysterious. It defines genocide this way:

In the present Convention, genocide means any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as

. . .

(d) Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group.

The Convention does not require an intent to kill every member of a population or eradicate the entire group. It expressly includes measures intended to prevent births and an intent to destroy the protected group only “in part.” The ultimate question here can therefore be boiled down to this:

Did Denmark use a system of contraception to decrease the population of Inuit Greenlanders?

Relying upon the established Historical Report, the official human rights report found a reasonable basis to believe that measures preventing births had been imposed systematically by employees of the Danish state. The remaining question then was simply: why? If population control was the purpose, then the campaign appears to fit Article II(d), because the intended result was the destruction of part of the protected group. On that point, the report stated:

“It is difficult to imagine circumstances in which an attempt to substantially reduce the population of a single ethnic group could not constitute an intent to destroy, in part, that ethnicity.”

But the official expert panel then declined to make the ultimate determination.

They said that to figure out why Denmark did this, another tribunal should examine the systemic birth control measures alongside Denmark’s other discriminatory practices during the same period, including the removal of Inuit children, forced relocations, employment discrimination, suppression of the Inuit language, unequal wages, and restrictions affecting paternity and inheritance. That broader pattern, they reasoned, could reveal how Denmark viewed the Inuit and help determine why the Spiral Campaign was instituted. But because those other practices had not been examined in sufficient detail in the Historical Report, the experts said they lacked the factual record necessary to decide. So, they punted.

The official human rights report therefore treated Denmark’s purpose as the central unresolved question. Yet, strikingly, the Report did not confront the most significant institutional evidence bearing upon that question: the declared objectives and documented roles of the organizations and individuals who helped formulate the program, trained the doctors, financed the research, supplied the devices, and translated population control policy into medical practice. At the center of that missing story was the International Planned Parenthood Federation.

The Conspicuously Missing Planned Parenthood Story

The Historical Report states very clearly that the International Planned Parenthood Federation (IPPF) and the Population Council “advocated for the necessity of reducing global population growth” and viewed contraception as the principal means of doing so. It then identifies those organizations, together with the Danish Family Planning Association - IPPF’s Danish affiliate - as working with Danish government officials, researchers, and physicians to put those policies into practice. The Historical Report traces in considerable detail how they operated within, alongside, and through Denmark’s governmental and medical institutions to translate their population-control objective into policy and practice.

Yet the official human rights report never mentions IPPF or the Population Council despite the fact that they were supposed to be basing their analysis on the Historical Report. It does reference the Danish Family Planning Association but does so without identifying it as IPPF’s affiliate or examining the significance of that relationship.

Founded in 1952, the International Planned Parenthood Federation created and supported national affiliates that translated population-control policies into medical practice. Its international president during the years preceding and overlapping the Spiral Campaign was Lady Dhanvanthi Rama Rau, who helped establish the Family Planning Association of India and was among IPPF’s founders along with Margaret Sanger.

Any objective assessment of Rau’s life’s work leaves little room for doubt. In the most restrained terms, she was a committed population control advocate. Rau recalled that there was “no question” she should work for family planning “single-mindedly and intensively.” She continued: “The limiting of our population was a fundamental and pivotal necessity if we were to make the gigantic task of social and economic improvement successful.”

IPPF supplied doctrine, money, training, and contraceptive technology, while its affiliates and cooperating public institutions turned those policies into practice. Population control became an instrument of economic and social planning. The Historical Report details how this model was applied in Denmark and Greenland.

Denmark’s IPPF affiliate was headed by Dr. Agnete Braestrup. Her significance can hardly be overstated, yet her name never appears in the official human rights report. Braestrup founded the Danish Family Planning Association in 1956 and chaired it until 1983. The association began working in Greenland in 1958, cultivated contacts inside the Ministry of Greenland and the medical service, trained doctors bound for Greenland, and conducted contraceptive trials.

In 1963, Braestrup proposed sending a gynecologist to Greenland to begin “family limitation” work centered largely upon the IUD, even though the device had not yet been approved for general use in Denmark. Her association then helped the Greenland Council Secretariat and Ministry of Greenland prepare a 1965 memorandum explaining why family planning was needed and how the state should provide it. The program included school instruction, government-produced materials, medical training, and free or inexpensive contraception. IPPF’s population policy was no longer an international abstraction. Its Danish affiliate had helped place that policy inside Greenland’s government and medical system.

Braestrup did not merely run an obscure national affiliate. She succeeded Rau as president of the worldwide IPPF in 1969 and served through 1971 while continuing to chair the local Danish association. So the person directing IPPF’s Danish operation during the Spiral Campaign was also running the world’s most influential and best-funded population control organizations.

IPPF had a powerful ally in the Population Council. Established in 1952 by John D. Rockefeller III, the Council described the relationship between population and available resources as “one of the most critical and urgent problems” of the time. It connected foundations, governments, physicians, and researchers while channeling private and public money into contraceptive research and distribution aimed at population control.

That work led directly to Greenland. The Population Council supported Danish physician Erik Rosen’s experimental research into the “Lippes Loop.” In 1965, Rosen urged Danish officials to seize what he called the “rather unique opportunity” to study the IUD’s use in a “primitive population.”

The institutional overlap became visible the following summer. In early July 1966, Lady Rau traveled to Copenhagen for IPPF’s regional conference; less than two weeks later, Rosen arrived in Nuuk on July 19 and began the official Greenland IUD trial the following day. The devices he carried were provided free by the Population Council and were known inside Greenland simply as “the Spiral.”

International Planned Parenthood Across the Globe

Greenland was not an anomaly. The same institutional model operated across the developing world. The programs were not identical, and the degree of coercion varied. But the common structure was unmistakable: international financing, national Planned Parenthood affiliates, government targets, medical campaigns, and success measured through fewer births.

In a remarkable 1965 interview, Lady Rau spells out in unusually candid terms both the ambition and the operating philosophy of the IPPF. Speaking about India, she describes an almost relentless effort to prevent births, at one point invoking the phrase “through every means available.” The machinery she championed would become enormous: during the mid 1970s, more than 10.7 million Indians were sterilized, including 8.3 million in fiscal year 1976 to 1977 alone, while IPPF’s Indian affiliate itself performed more than 80,000 sterilizations in 1976.

Heard in its most charitable light, the 1965 interview captures the elitism and paternalism that ran through much of the era’s population-control movement: an international organization convinced that it knew what was best for humanity and prepared to help governments reorganize intimate decisions about reproduction accordingly. Heard less charitably, it is something far more unsettling.

Rau’s interview also makes clear that the model was never intended to remain confined to India. IPPF saw its mission as exporting the same machinery abroad - supplying expertise, organization, money, and institutional support to governments and local affiliates willing to adopt it. Lady Rau stated:

The International Planned Parenthood Federation is the only organization that is giving active assistance to those who are aware, wh- whether it be in a Catholic country or whether it be in a non-Catholic country, that this is a potential danger. We are prepared to give advice, we are prepared to give financial aid, we are prepared to organize, help them to organize the work within their own countries, and that is one reason why we already have thirty-eight countries that belong as members to the International.

That was not merely aspirational; variations of the model appeared across the world, including:

- South Korea: IPPF’s Korean affiliate pressed the government to launch a national family-planning program in 1962; by 1970, it recorded 295,100 IUD insertions and 17,321 vasectomies.

- Indonesia: IPPF’s affiliate supported the government’s population-limitation program with training and public education; state targets and village programs produced documented coercive pressureand reached more than 4.7 million women by 1975.

- Colombia: IPPF affiliate PROFAMILIA, founded by Fernando Tamayo to reduce population growth, built 42 clinics and worked through government hospitals and health centers. For his efforts in preventing Colombian babies Tamayo would be promoted to President of the IPPF after Bræstrup.

- Singapore: IPPF’s affiliate helped build the clinical network absorbed into the government program in 1965; the state later enforced its two-child policy through financial and public-housing restrictions.

- Puerto Rico: The Puerto Rican Family Planning Association, an IPPF affiliate, worked alongside government services; by 1965, about one third of ever-married women ages 20–49 had been sterilized, while IPPF later described affiliate and government services as fully integrated.

And of course, Greenland.

In Fatal Misconception: The Struggle to Control World Population, Columbia historian Matthew Connelly provides the definitive history of the movement. What he found was not simply an effort to make contraception available, but what he calls the “most ambitious population control schemes” - programs that “aimed to remake humanity” by deliberately reducing fertility, particularly among poor populations. He traces how the IPPF and others built affiliates, clinics, and government partnerships around the world, and how by the 1960s, these internationalists had become so zealous that some believed that the world’s “survival depended on sterilization camps.”

And then there was a funding model behind this craze. Through the 1960s and 1970s, one institution became the dominant financier of international population-control programs, channeling more than a billion dollars into the effort and into organizations such as IPPF. Its support for IPPF began with a $3.5 million grant in 1968, and its own history later acknowledged that continued American funding became “vital” to the federation’s work. The institution behind that money was the United States Agency for International Development. During the 1970s, the IPPF was the single largest NGO recipient of USAID’s population-control funding.

The Omitted Evidence Applied

Greenland followed the established international model. The IPPF’s Denmark affiliate, led by Dr. Agnete Braestrup, cultivated government relationships, trained personnel, proposed IUD-centered “family limitation,” and helped formulate the policy. The Population Council financed the research and supplied the devices. The Danish welfare state provided the authority, hospitals, physicians, schools, and access to the women and girls.

Nearly all of this institutional history appears in the Historical Report upon which the human rights experts were supposed to rely. Yet the official report simply does not address this as evidence of Denmark’s purpose.

Taken together, the evidence supports a straightforward conclusion: Denmark constructed a system within its state health service intended to reduce births among Inuit Greenlanders. Genocide.

Even if the experts were unwilling to state the obvious conclusion, attempting to determine why Denmark acted without examining the stated purpose of the IPPF, Rau, Braestrup, the IPPF Danish affiliate, and the Population Council is, at best, an extraordinary failure of historical and legal analysis.

These actors did not accidentally converge in Greenland. They operated through a population control system being deployed around the world to limit populations. In Greenland, that system ended at the examination table, where a state physician confronted an Inuit girl.

Why Does a Genocide Determination Matter?

While it certainly provides a symbolic victory, an official determination of genocide here could be considerably more practical because of domestic Danish law. Damages for serious personal injuries are generally far lower in Denmark than in the United States because compensation is tightly structured by Danish law, with statutory formulas governing categories such as pain and suffering, permanent injury, and loss of earning capacity.

Even in an extreme malpractice case where infertility resulted, a total recovery of roughly $60,000 to $75,000 would be considered substantial. In one Danish medical-injury case, for instance, a woman rendered infertile after treatment received compensation for infertility and other permanent injuries under Denmark’s statutory damages system; the court ultimately treated her infertility as part of a 25-percent permanent-injury award worth roughly $25,000 in today’s dollars.

A very recent development changes the picture a bit. On August 27, literally the day before the human-rights reports were released, Denmark approved a compensation scheme paying each qualifying Spiral Campaignvictim roughly $46,000. Coming more than fifty years after the conduct, the timing certainly invites the inference that Denmark hoped the payment would help blunt any later genocide claim by allowing it to argue that they had already “voluntarily” compensated the victims.

The $46,000 payout effectively creates a floor, but not a ceiling. The women can still sue and seek more, but any later award will likely be reduced by the $46,000 already received. And because Danish personal-injury awards are so modest, even a severe infertility case might realistically leave a woman with only $60,000 to $75,000 in total compensation. The practical reality, then, is that many of these women may receive remarkably little compared with the severity of the injuries they allege.

This is where a genocide determination could become practically important. It would not guarantee a large additional award, but previous reproductive-rights cases show that international tribunals can impose separate reparations, including tens of thousands of dollars beyond modest domestic compensation. That is important here because of the way Denmark’s domestic damages scheme protects the health care system against significant awards - even for catastrophic injuries. Against that backdrop, even relatively modest reparations tied to a genocide finding could materially increase what the Inuit women ultimately receive.

But why is this damages-strategy discussion even necessary? Denmark has already acknowledged its systemic abuse of these women, yet their compensation scheme guarantees qualifying victims only about $46,000. A responsible government might simply try to make them whole - to the extent that is possible. What could be more important to Denmark than adequately compensating its individual citizens who were subjected to contraception without their consent and suffered permanent reproductive injuries at the hands of the state? Perhaps Denmark remains more concerned with humanity itself.

Over the next ten years Denmark is on track to distribute at least $5 billion in grant-based international climate change money to NGOs and developing countries, while separately earmarking more than $155 million for projects intended to transition its population to plant-based meat and products. All for the sake of the planet.

The historical echo is difficult to ignore.

When Gloria Steinem, one of Planned Parenthood’s most prominent longtime advocates, died last week, renewed attention was given to her earlier declaration that “overpopulation is still the biggest reason for global warming” and her later description of population as the “fundamental cause of climate change.”

The rhetoric has changed, but the system’s impulse to subordinate individual reproductive lives to a larger social vision has proved remarkably durable.

In December 2020, Brown and his wife spoke by telephone with President Donald Trump about James Rosemond, a federal prisoner serving multiple life sentences. According to sworn declarations from the Browns, Trump told them that he had reviewed Rosemond’s case and wanted him released. They recalled Trump saying, among other things, “I want him home for Christmas.”

But Rosemond was never released. No written commutation warrant was ever issued. So, Rosemond went to federal court arguing that none was necessary because Trump had already commuted his sentence orally during the call.

In 2024, the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals decided Rosemond v. Hudgins. Rosemond lost and he remained in prison, but the decision highlights numerous principles that could become extremely important if Dr. Fauci is indicted and raises the pardon as protection.

The Burden of Proof is on Fauci

A pardon is an affirmative defense. That means that the prosecutor can bring the case against Fauci and, as exemplified in the recent Rosemond case, it is Fauci’s obligation to raise and prove the existence and scope of the pardon. If he cannot prove that the pardon exists and that its scope covers his crime, then the pardon will not help him. The Court will most likely require that Fauci establish his right to the pardon by a preponderance of the evidence, meaning in sum that Fauci would have to prove that it is more likely than not that President Biden himself actually issued a pardon, and that the pardon covers the crimes alleged.

As detailed in a previous article, Dr. Fauci may have great difficulty relying on the pardon document itself because the written authorization was prepared through aides who were not present when Biden supposedly made the decision to pardon on January 19, 2025, and the final document was then signed by an aid using an autopen. The usual presumption of regularity should offer little help where the authorization process itself was admittedly irregular here and very poorly documented.

On the record as it stands now, there are no contemporaneous documents, memoranda, notes, or other records from the January 19, 2025 meeting establishing that President Biden actually ordered Fauci’s pardon or approved its scope. Nor has anyone who attended that meeting definitively testified under oath as to precisely what Biden ordered, if anything - with two of the participants invoking their Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination.

Could someone from that meeting later change course and testify in an effort to rescue Fauci’s pardon? Of course. But Fauci would still face a tough row to hoe.

Fauci’s Tough Row

The scope of the written pardon is a particular problem for Fauci. What, specifically, did Joe Biden authorize? The written document purports to pardon Fauci for federal offenses arising from his government service all the way back to January 1, 2014, seven years before Biden became President, and through January 19, 2025. But where is the evidence that Biden himself selected or approved that extraordinarily broad eleven-year period?

The evidence surrounding the January 19 meeting does not tell us. The best firsthand testimony about what Biden actually said (assuming the President was actually there and meaningfully participated) points in a different direction.

Deputy Chief of Staff Bruce Reed, who alleges he was present when Biden made the Fauci decision, testified that Biden said he did not want Fauci and General Milley subjected to retaliation “for what they’d done while he was President.” That does not conclusively prove Biden intended a pardon limited to 2021 through 2025, but it is the clearest evidence presently available of the scope Biden himself may have had in mind, and it is difficult to reconcile with a written instrument reaching back to 2014. No testimony to date identifies Biden as ever approving that 2014 starting date. And Reed’s testimony points strongly in the opposite direction. So who supplied those additional seven years of protection for Fauci, and where is the evidence that Joe Biden ever authorized them?

Rosa Po, the staff aide who transmitted the final January 19 clemency summary for signature by the autopen, expressly listed January 1, 2014 as the starting date for the Biden family pardons. But the publicly released portion of her email does not show what she wrote about Fauci, so we do not yet know whether she listed that same 2014 date for him. The Congressional Report concludes that there are no contemporaneous notes or memoranda from the meeting itself. And The New York Times reported that the first written draft of Biden’s purported decision was prepared by another aide who, like Po, was not even in the room. That leaves the same basic question: who supplied the 2014 date for Fauci, and did Biden actually approve it?

And that leads to the next problem Dr. Fauci will face: the credibility of the witnesses he will need to establish that Biden actually authorized the pardon back to 2014. The January 19 meeting included five people: Bruce Reed, Steve Ricchetti, Ed Siskel, Annie Tomasini, and Anthony Bernal. All but Siskel were generally regarded as members of the small inner circle the Committee describes as Biden’s “Politburo,” a group of senior aides who helped conceal Biden’s mental state while increasingly managing the presidency.

These witnesses have a direct and significant credibility problem. They have every reason to insist that Biden was competent, understood the pardon, and personally authorized it. Any admission that he was confused, disengaged, not actually there, or not actually directing the process would strengthen the very allegation they have spent years denying: that the Politburo was exercising presidential power while concealing Biden’s decline.

The timing of the January 19, 2025 meeting further raises questions. President Biden spent most of that day in South Carolina, leaving Washington at 8:52 a.m., attending church services and an event at the International African American Museum, and returning to the White House only at 6:47 p.m.

The President’s obvious cognitive deficiencies were widely known to worsen outside his best midday window, and travel made the problem worse. His overseas appearances made that unmistakable. Axios reported that his own aides considered him consistently reliable only until about 4 p.m. And The Washington Post reported that White House aides deliberately scheduled most high priority meetings and key events around midday, to avoid the problem. In his book Original Sin, based on interviews with more than 200 Democratic insiders, CNN’s Jake Tapper likewise reported that aides particularly avoided scheduling evening events after travel.

The chronology here places the January 19 meeting squarely in the evening. Biden did not return to the White House until 6:47 p.m., and the first written summary of the meeting was circulating shortly after 10 p.m. By then, he had already traveled and worked throughout the day. The administration’s account therefore requires believing that the 82-year-old Joe Biden, who any nonpartisan observer would reasonably conclude had difficulty coping with the ordinary demands of life, remained alert enough late that night to work through the details and scope of Dr. Fauci’s extraordinary pardon. That is very difficult to square with what the world watched throughout his presidency.

What were the President’s Exact Words?

The recent Rosemond case makes a couple of additional points very clear. First, a presidential pardon does not have to be in writing. That matters here because, as noted above, there are real evidentiary problems with the document on file. Second, the exact words spoken by a President concerning clemency can be crucial. In Rosemond, the analysis turned on the precise meaning of President Trump’s words, “I want to do this,” “I’m gonna do it,” and “Let’s get this guy home for Christmas.” The issue was whether those statements constituted a completed exercise of clemency or merely an intention to grant it. A man’s liberty hung in the balance. The Court concluded that Trump’s words did not amount to a completed grant of clemency.

The critical question for Fauci therefore becomes: What, exactly, did Joe Biden say in that meeting?

Did Biden actually say, “I pardon Anthony Fauci back to 2014”? Did he expressly approve a pardon covering eleven years of Fauci’s government service? Or did he simply agree that Fauci should be protected for the period Biden was in office, as Bruce Reed’s testimony suggests? As Rosemond demonstrates, those distinctions matter because the pardon power belongs to the President alone. Staff can carry out his specific decision, but they cannot make that Constitutional decision for him, nor can they expand the scope of a pardon on their own.

Testimony about Biden’s statements prior to January 19 does not help resolve the issue. Ron Klain testified that Biden told him in mid-December 2024 that he was “going to pardon Fauci and Milley and the Jan. 6 Committee and their staff.” Under Rosemond, that is evidence of an intention to pardon. It does not establish that Biden actually granted the pardon, much less that he approved its eleven-year scope.

Mike Donilon’s testimony goes somewhat further. He recalled attending an earlier, undated meeting at which President Biden heard the arguments concerning Fauci and then “made the decision to pardon.” But Donilon’s testimony sits uneasily with Reed and Zients’s account that the operative decision was made at the January 19, 2025 meeting. More importantly, Donilon’s testimony does not address the scope of the pardon at all.

That leaves the January 19 meeting as the critical event. With no recording of the meeting and apparently no contemporaneous notes or memorandum, the issue may ultimately come down to the memories of the people who were in the room. And, as noted above, those memories so far have been difficult to obtain.

But even if those people start talking, unless the exact words were preserved in some yet undisclosed note, memorandum, or other record, it seems unlikely that anyone will now be able to authoritatively reconstruct precisely what Joe Biden said in that room. Even the recollection of the President himself, perhaps particularly the President himself, would seem of limited value when the dispute may turn on such specific language and details – and be subject to cross examination. Dr. Fauci’s predicament would indeed be bleak if Joe Biden’s memory of that meeting was his ace in the hole.

Courts Will Be Cautious

But will the DOJ pursue this? Congress appears focused on establishing contempt against Dr. Fauci for invoking the Fifth Amendment after receiving a pardon. They have sent a contempt referral to the Department of Justice asking them to consider bringing criminal charges. If DOJ acts on that referral, however, Fauci appears to have the stronger argument. He will likely contend, rightfully, that even with the federal pardon, he still faced possible state prosecution, something a federal pardon could not eliminate. Indeed, three states are already pursuing such avenues.

There is also a larger strategic problem for the DOJ. To prosecute Fauci for contempt based on his refusal to answer questions after the pardon, the government would effectively be arguing that the pardon was valid and eliminated his federal exposure. But once DOJ takes that position, the universe of available charges narrows dramatically. If, on the other hand, DOJ takes the position that the pardon was never validly granted, then a much broader range of potential offenses comes back into play, including any false statements Fauci may have made to Congress and any criminal conduct connected to the events surrounding the Wuhan lab, and their aftermath.

Ordinarily, courts are understandably reluctant to intrude upon the President’s exclusive clemency authority. They are equally reluctant to make the kind of fact intensive determinations that require reconstructing a President’s intent from incomplete records and conflicting memories. Courts generally prefer to accept official acts for what they appear to be.

But these are not ordinary circumstances. The underlying events involved the deaths of millions of people and transformed societies around the world. The controversy also arises against the backdrop of an administration whose senior aides spent years insisting that public appearances did not reflect President Biden’s true condition. And in the end, that may be the central irony of the Fauci pardon. The same inner circle that spent years insisting Biden was fully capable of exercising presidential power may now have to prove, in court and in extraordinary detail, that he actually exercised it here.

But who issued it?

That question has become considerably more important following the release of Fauci’s 1,141 page pandemic diary, the disclosure of additional internal emails, and his return to Congress last week, where he invoked his Fifth Amendment right to remain silent. Together, those materials provide investigators with contemporaneous accounts of what Fauci privately knew, discussed and said during the pandemic, including the seriousness with which he considered the possibility that the virus emerged from a laboratory in Wuhan.

The new materials can now be compared, entry by entry, against Dr. Fauci’s prior testimony before Congress. Even a cursory review reveals apparent conflicts involving the death rate comparisons he privately dismissed, the extent to which he defended lockdowns and closures (Diary, March 15, 2020), and the seriousness with which he privately considered a possible laboratory origin for the virus (Diary, February 1, 2020). There are also serious questions concerning the funding of gain of function research at the Wuhan Institute of Virology, and Fauci’s instruction that a potentially relevant email be deleted after to hide its contents. These are not small discrepancies.

Senator Rand Paul contends that Fauci presented a materially different account to Congress, to the public, and to his diary. He’s not wrong. Those apparent conflicts, combined with Fauci’s invocation of the Fifth Amendment, provide a real basis to consider seeking an indictment.

Depending upon precisely what Fauci said, what he knew, whether his statements were material and whether he acted willfully, the possible federal charges include perjury, making false statements and obstruction of Congress. The diary does not itself prove those offenses. But it gives investigators new evidence with which to evaluate Fauci’s testimony.

The apparent obstacle is the document issued on January 19, 2025, purporting to pardon Fauci for federal offenses connected to his government service from January 1, 2014, through January 19, 2025. But at this point, describing it as an actual pardon issued by Joe Biden assumes too much.

The Constitution gives the pardon power to the President. Not to his chief of staff. Not to his family. Not to a White House aide. If Biden never personally made the decision, then there was no presidential pardon. There was only a document bearing his name.

Merely using an autopen to sign a document does not, by itself, make a pardon invalid. An autopen may be used if the President actually made the decision and authorized its use. Whether Biden signed the document by hand or directed an autopen to apply his signature is therefore not important. The question that matters is whether Biden personally authorized the pardon and what evidence establishes that authorization.

The testimony and available evidence make clear that an autopen was used to execute the purported Fauci pardon, meaning that Biden did not sign it by hand. The critical question, then, is what evidence establishes that Joe Biden actually authorized the pardon. The evidence, documentation and procedures surrounding both that authorization and the subsequent use of the autopen were, simply put, atrocious.

The Record Keeping

First, the House Oversight Committee found a pervasive pattern of carelessness and irresponsibility in the Biden White House’s general handling of presidential documents and executive decisions. The Committee found massive holes in the chain of custody for Biden’s decision binder, which was supposed to contain memoranda showing whether he approved or rejected proposed executive actions. Purported presidential approvals were frequently not memorialized. Autopen approvals were also missing. There was no reliable log identifying who handled the decision materials, who operated the autopen or whether particular documents actually reflected Biden’s decisions.

More specifically, with respect to the Fauci pardon, the evidence reveals a level of irresponsibility that simply boggles the mind (unless of course, it was purposeful). Fauci, whom some had accused of helping conceal the origins of a pandemic that killed millions worldwide, was included in the January 19, 2025 slate of pardons processed through what the Committee called a presidential pardon “game of telephone.” Even accepting the Biden staff’s account of events at face value, this was a stunningly irresponsible way to exercise one of the most important powers entrusted to the President in connection with one of the most consequential world events of the modern era.

Here is What they Say Happened

A meeting was supposedly held on January 19, 2025 at which Joe Biden is said to have approved a group of pardons. There are no contemporaneous notes or memoranda from that meeting recording any of Biden’s “approvals.” According to the Committee’s reconstruction, the meeting included Biden staff members Bruce Reed, Steve Ricchetti and Annie Tomasini, along with White House Counsel Ed Siskel and Anthony Bernal, assistant to the President and chief of staff to First Lady Jill Biden.

Chief of Staff Jeff Zients was not at the meeting nor was Rosa Po, a Zients staffer, who would prove important.

Zients testified that after the meeting he assumed, though he did not know, that Reed or Siskel must have told Po that Biden wanted to pardon Fauci. Po then telephoned Zients at home and repeated what she had been told.

Zients did not call Biden to confirm the decision. He did not call Reed, Siskel or anyone else who had attended the meeting. Instead, Zients allegedly told Po to send an email from his account approving the use of the autopen to pardon Fauci.

Po sent the authorization email to herself from Zients’s account, copying other senior aides involved in processing the pardons. The approval then passed through the Staff Secretary’s Office until someone operated the autopen. Zients testified that he did not know who that person was and that no log identified who had operated the autopen.

The Five Witnesses

As there are apparently no contemporaneous documents or memorandum from this January 19, 2025 meeting, let’s drill down on the testimony from the five people who were supposedly present when Joe Biden is said to have issued Fauci’s pardon. Referring to the decision to pardon Fauci, Bruce Reed testified: “I think I was present when the President made it,” though Reed said he did not “remember specific discussions” about the pardon and “wasn’t involved in that decision.” But he said he does recall specifically that the President made the decision to prevent “retaliation” against Fauci.

Steve Ricchetti’s testimony did not corroborate that the January 19 meeting occurred or that Biden approved the Fauci pardon there. In fairness however, Ricchetti was never specifically asked about the January 19 meeting or about Fauci’s pardon. His pardon testimony focused primarily on Hunter Biden and on the general proposition that presidential pardon decisions should have been made by Biden.

White House counsel Ed Siskel did not testify at all.

And when called to testify at their depositions, the other two witnesses, Annie Tomasini and Anthony Bernal, responded with now familiar language:

On the advice of counsel, I respectfully decline to answer the question pursuant to my Fifth Amendment rights under the Constitution.

They took the Fifth.

That is supposedly how the man who helped lead America’s COVID 19 response received a pardon covering more than eleven years of government service, including his role in directing the nation’s response to a pandemic associated with the deaths of more than one million Americans. These are not merely technical defects. The evidence and testimony reflect an almost complete absence of contemporaneous evidence that the President exercised the pardon power at all.

The Incapacity

This extraordinary process must be considered alongside the obvious evidence concerning Joe Biden’s mental condition at the time. The Fauci document was issued nearly seven months after the country watched Biden struggle with his incapacity through his June 2024 debate with Donald Trump, and more than eleven months after Special Counsel Robert Hur declined to recommend charges against Biden, at least in part (some would argue, largely) due to Biden’s infirmity.

By January 2025, when Joe Biden supposedly considered the Fauci pardon, his own party had already effectively concluded that he could no longer credibly continue as President. Democratic leaders had forced him from the 2024 race after the debate made his mental condition impossible to conceal.

Meanwhile, CNN’s Jake Tapper and Axios reporter Alex Thompson had conducted more than 200 interviews, mostly with Democratic insiders, for their book Original Sin: President Biden’s Decline, Its Cover Up, and His Disastrous Choice to Run Again. Their later reporting exposed the existence of the “Politburo,” a small circle of family members and senior advisers who were, in effect, running the White House while treating the President’s cognitive decline as merely a political problem to be managed and concealed.

That reporting confirmed what hundreds of millions of people worldwide had repeatedly seen with their own eyes and were, unfortunately, familiar with: clear signs of dementia. Politics, publishing standards, respect, and an inability to diagnose the precise condition may have kept many from saying so plainly and publicly. But in reality, it was simply undeniable: something was wrong with Joe Biden’s brain.

That reality also bears directly upon the credibility of those now attempting to explain what occurred inside the White House. Having participated in, or helped sustain, that deception, members of the protective inner circle, including Reed, Bernal, Ricchetti and Tomasini, now have an obvious interest in portraying Biden as competent and capable during that period, minimizing what they knew, and protecting themselves from responsibility. Their testimony must therefore be viewed in light of both their demonstrated willingness to conceal the truth and their continuing need to insist that the President was functioning normally.

All of this does not mean, however, that the legal argument that the Fauci pardon is a nullity depends upon declaring Biden legally incapacitated. Indeed, a court likely could never make such a determination. The Constitution assigns that judgment exclusively to the political process established by the Twenty Fifth Amendment. A court cannot retroactively decide that Biden was unable to serve and invalidate his actions on that basis.

Biden’s condition matters for a different reason. It helps explain how and why other people were apparently making decisions in his name. His deterioration, combined with the lack of documentation and the bizarre telephone chain, makes it considerably more likely that others were making decisions and merely attributing them to Biden.

Ordinarily, courts presume that government officials properly performed their duties. Thus, a signature appearing on an official document is ordinarily presumed authentic and properly authorized. Courts refer to this as the “presumption of regularity.” But before that doctrine can apply, there must first be some regularity to presume.

Here, the evidence shows the opposite. There was no consistent procedure, no complete authorization log, no reliable chain of custody documentation and no contemporaneous record tracing the Fauci pardon to Biden’s actual approval. The handling of the Fauci pardon instead appears (at best) to have been improvised and ad hoc. The evidence developed thus far reveals distinct and pervasive irregularity. Coupled with the evidence concerning the President’s cognitive condition, this provides a strong basis for denying the document the usual presumption of regularity.

So What Can be Done?

One possible path is to empanel a grand jury and seek to indict Fauci, treating the purported pardon as a nullity. Fauci would undoubtedly challenge the indictment based upon the pardon. At that point, a court could examine what actually occurred.

The court could determine who selected Fauci as a pardon candidate, who presented the proposal, who communicated the supposed decision, what Biden was told and what evidence establishes that Biden personally authorized anything.

To get closer to the truth, additional evidence is needed.

The Committee found that the January 19 slate of pardons that included Fauci also covered General Mark Milley, members and staff of the House January 6 Committee, and five members of the Biden family.

Jeff Zients testified that Hunter Biden participated in some pardon discussions during the administration’s final weeks. Hunter should be deposed about those discussions. Jill Biden has acknowledged participating in the decision to pardon her son. She should be deposed about the pardons, her participation, what she knew about her husband’s condition, and the involvement of her staff in running the White House – most notably Anthony Bernal. Every participant in the January 19 meeting should also be placed under oath and made to speak of exactly what occurred. Where appropriate, prosecutors should consider granting immunity so that witnesses cannot continue invoking the Fifth Amendment to withhold what they know.

There is no real precedent for anything quite like this. America has endured episodes in which an incapacitated President was concealed from the public. Woodrow Wilson suffered a devastating stroke in October 1919, after which Edith Wilson effectively ran the White House, keeping up the fraud for more than seventeen months. But even that extraordinary episode did not produce this precise legal question.

After years of concealment, evasion and deception, the country may finally be able to get some definitive answers. While it would be ugly, divisive and likely to reopen old wounds, an indictment of Fauci could produce litigation capable of addressing two lingering questions from the unsettling COVID period: where the virus came from and who was actually running our country.

As the EU’s new migration rules were set to take effect on June 12^th - making Ireland even more vulnerable to mass migration ideology - the island was already under pressure from asylum placements, housing strain, and rising public anger. When June 12^th arrived, Belfast was already burning, Dublin was on edge, Brussels was defending its plan, and Elon Musk was somehow being cast as the problem.

The latest trigger was very ugly. A Sudanese migrant, Hadi Alodid, has been charged with attempted murder after a brutal knife attack on a man in Belfast, Northern Ireland. Reports say the victim suffered deep cuts and lost an eye; some outlets described it as an attempted beheading, with the Sudanese attacker straddling the victim almost ritualistically, until a local resident beat him off with an Irish hurling stick. Video of the incident spread online, and the people hit the streets (WARNING - VERY graphic video). Houses were burned and lists of migrants were reportedly compiled. Police used water cannons and plastic bullets to stop the riots. Nineteen arrests followed.

This is neither new nor isolated. In 2025, Ballymena, Northern Ireland erupted after two immigrant teenagers were charged in connection with the alleged sexual assault of a teenage girl - charges that were later dropped. And the latest unrest comes on the heels of the conviction and sentencing of Vickrum Digwa, a Sikh man of Indian origin, for the murder of 18-year-old Henry Nowak in Southampton, England. That case sparked a national furor after police body-cam footage showed officers initially focused on Digwa’s false claim that he had been the victim of “hate speech,” while Nowak - the actual victim - lay dying from a stab wound.

The Republic of Ireland has the same problem: asylum numbers up, housing under strain, local communities furious, and a political class in Dublin trying to explain why a small island country has to keep absorbing this problem.

It’s been building in the Republic for a while also. The trial of Riad Bouchaker is currently underway in Dublin for the horrific November 2023 knife attack on children outside a school in Parnell Square. Bouchaker, a native of Algeria with no fixed address, is appearing in court through an Arabic interpreter. This week, witnesses gave harrowing testimony about Bouchaker wildly stabbing children outside of a school/child care facility, and bystanders rushing in to stop the attack. Dublin exploded after the attack left three children and a woman severely injured. Buses were torched, shops were looted, and riot police were attacked. The center of the Republic’s capital - the ancient heart of Irish civic life - looked like a war zone. Many Irish at the time discounted the event as an anomaly, but in retrospect that was the Republic’s warning shot.

Then again in October 2025, Dublin saw violent unrest outside the Citywest Hotel, an asylum-accommodation site, after a migrant was charged in connection with an alleged sexual assault of a 10-year-old girl nearby. Irish law prevents the disclosure of the accused in sexual assault cases, but it is reported he is from Africa, in the country illegally, and is speaking through an Arabic interpreter. Again, the streets burned. And now, immigration violence is an ongoing political issue.

While not new, last week’s violence in Belfast does feel like a watershed. Vigilantes burning occupied migrant homes - including homes with children inside - and compiling lists of other migrant properties for possible future targeting signals a dangerous escalation. This is no longer just protest.

To be clear, the island has hardly collapsed into anarchy; normal life still goes on. But more people in both countries are starting to recognize - and admit - that these events are not isolated eruptions. And the ones who recognized it early have given up on the government controlling the matter. Northern Ireland’s Chief Constable warned last week that, “This has got to stop. We cannot have a society that allows this to happen.” Things are getting dark quickly.

A Complicated Border

While border disputes are hardly novel in Europe, the border between Ireland and Northern Ireland presents and exacerbates the migration problem unlike almost anywhere else on the continent.

The Republic of Ireland is an independent country. Northern Ireland is part of the United Kingdom. They are on the same island with different sovereign systems. That split goes back to Irish independence in the early 1920s, when most of Ireland broke from Britain but six counties in the north stayed with London. Irish nationalists viewed the north as occupied Irish territory. Unionists viewed it as British soil. That was the wound.

Then came the Troubles. From the late 1960s through the 1990s, Northern Ireland lived through an urban horror show: IRA bombings, British reprisals, hunger strikes, marching, informers, revenge, and funerals. Most of it played out not on some distant battlefield, but in tight neighborhoods, on hard streets where everyone knew everyone - what church you attended, what pub you drank in, your last name, and which side you were presumed to be on.

The formal border between the Republic and Northern Ireland was part of that war. Anyone who drove the M1/A1 between Dublin and Belfast during that period likely has images of the checkpoints, watchtowers, patrols, and searches etched in their memory. The Good Friday Agreement in 1998 helped end that violence, and one of its great achievements was making that militarized border disappear – allowing people on both sides of the island to move, work, worship, and live without the border dominating daily life.

Mass migration has now found that weak spot.

There is still a legal border on the island. But there is not a normal border in practice. The Good Friday peace agreement made a hard border politically toxic, and there are no routine immigration checkpoints between the Republic and Northern Ireland. Open borders exist elsewhere in Europe, but this one is different. France, for example, can put checks back on the Belgian border for security or to slow surges. Ireland cannot casually rebuild the old border without touching the peace settlement.

Then Brexit made it worse.

Not because Brexit created the open border. It did not. The border was already wide open. But Brexit made that openness even harder to touch.

Once the UK left the EU trade system and the Republic stayed in, the border became a legal problem again. Goods moving from the Republic into Northern Ireland were now technically moving from the EU into the UK. They had to be checked somewhere. Put those checks back on the land border, and you risk reopening the wound of the Troubles. Put them in the Irish Sea, and unionists feel cut off from their own country. So the lawyers moved much of the trade-control problem away from the land border while keeping the border itself invisible. It’s not perfect, but it was a workaround.

That compromise did one more thing: it confirmed how untouchable the border had become. Nobody wants to put real security back between north and south, and protocols after Brexit effectively codified that. So that border is open. Full stop.

Then, on June 12, 2026, the Republic made things more difficult by voluntarily opting into the EU’s new Migration and Asylum Pact. While individual asylum cases are still heard in Dublin, Brussels now largely decides how many asylum seekers Ireland is responsible for under the EU’s new “burden-sharing” system - their preferred euphemism.

So now you have one island with two countries, two immigration systems, and an open border between them - with Brussels deciding how many asylum-seekers Ireland must admit. And the migrants are working this border anomaly for every possible advantage. The Belfast suspect who sparked last week’s riots reportedly traveled from Sudan to Paris to Dublin, and then across the border into Belfast.

While the recent public anger may have been predictable, something else was less easily foreseen: mass migration may in fact be scrambling the old Irish divide. Researchers say anti-migrant activists from the Republic are now showing up alongside British loyalist networks in Northern Ireland - the same kinds of groups that would once have been on opposite sides of the Troubles. And the reverse is also true: protests in the Republic have drawn figures from Northern Ireland’s loyalist-paramilitary world.

That does not prove some formal IRA-loyalist alliance. And there are hardliners on both sides that specifically reject that notion. But it does suggest one thing rather clearly: old enemies are beginning to occupy the same anti-migrant space, and protecting their neighborhoods is nothing new to them. Ireland spent decades trying to get politics out of the hands of street muscle. Mass migration may be dragging it back.

The Demographics

The small North Atlantic island is now seeing what America saw during the four years of open border under the Biden administration. But there is one big difference: scale. The Republic has only about five million people. Northern Ireland has fewer than two million. A continued migration surge there will not merely be disruptive; it could become transformative very quickly. Small neighborhoods are already changing. Public services are feeling the strain. And if left unchecked, the island risks losing its greatest export and greatest draw: its very well-defined culture.

Ireland has seen immigration surges before, especially during the brief Celtic Tiger years of the late 1990’s and early 2000’s. But that was different. Then, most of the new arrivals were workers from Poland, the United Kingdom, and other European countries, coming into a booming economy that needed labor. Cultural proximity, and in most cases a shared Christian background, made assimilation easier. Many also came just for work, not permanent resettlement, and planned to return home. It was a labor wave.

The current surge is different. This is not the older pattern of mostly European workers moving within a familiar labor market. It is larger, more visible, and arriving at a moment of housing shortages, strained services, and a weaker economy.

In Northern Ireland, critics often trace part of the shift to Boris Johnson’s post-Brexit immigration system, which ended the old EU-first model and opened the UK to far more non-European migration through work, study, family, and asylum routes.

In the Republic, the most politically volatile arrivals are not coming through ordinary labor channels either, but through the international-protection system - i.e., asylum claims - often without immediate work authorization, recognized credentials, or an obvious path into the Irish labor market. The Republic also still has more than 120,000 Ukrainians admitted under the EU’s Temporary Protection regime.

In 2025, the leading countries for international-protection applicants in the Republic were Somalia, Nigeria, Pakistan, and Afghanistan - countries with very different languages, institutions, and migration patterns from Ireland’s earlier European labor wave. That makes the integration challenge more visible, more complex, and more politically combustible.

Ireland is not yet dying out by births and deaths alone; births still exceed deaths. But the margin is shrinking. In the Republic over the last five years, births exceeded deaths by roughly 104,000. In 2025, births exceeded deaths by only about 18,500. While in just the one year preceding April 2025, roughly 125,000 total immigrants entered Ireland. That number includes immigrants from many different categories including returning ex-pats, but the vast majority are non-Irish. That is the pressure point: the native birth/death margin is narrowing while immigration has become the main engine of population growth.

Ireland’s Response

The reasonable response to the migrant issue should be for the island - north and south - to limit and control the migration for its own benefit. But Ireland’s ideological ruling class just handed the immigration reins to the EU and built itself a moral escape hatch. Because Ireland has a long history of sending its own people abroad, Dublin’s ideologues present their open-border posture as an act of national virtue: we left, so we must let others in.

In reality, however, Ireland faces the same forces that pushed America into its own open-border disaster: internationalists chasing a one-world community, political number-counters looking for future voters, and unadulterated Trump derangement syndrome. Closing the borders would mean Ireland admitting what they still cannot say: Trump - America - was right on mass migration.

Brussels, though, is starting to say it, though very slowly and very carefully. The new EU migration system does promise some stricter border rules, faster asylum decisions, and more deportations. EU Migration Commissioner Magnus Brunner said last month that Europe needs to “get control back” over who comes, who stays, and who leaves. Hardly a Trump rally, but perhaps a start.

But there is good reason to doubt that any real fix is coming. Once the disorder began, the political response followed a familiar liberal-government script: instead of treating immigration, asylum failure, and border weakness as the core problem, officials shifted attention to speech, social media, and the nearest Trump-adjacent villain - Elon Musk

Officials quickly pointed to video of the recent knife attack being shared on X for the civil unrest. They don’t blame the crime, but the video of the crime. The British Prime Minister has promised now to crack down on X, and a formal investigation may be coming in a matter of months.

In the Republic, X is already under investigation by Ireland’s media regulator under the EU Digital Services Act. The Republic’s probe into Musk was not born in a vacuum: Ireland announced that its investigation was supported by information from HateAid, a German online-speech NGO whose own materials identify immigrants among the groups they seek to protect from what they consider “hate speech.”

So who is HateAid, and who funds it? The answer points back to the same ideological world: migration advocacy, anti-“hate speech” activism, and a “one-world ideology.”

HateAid’s early work was supported by the Robert Bosch Stiftung, a foundation whose CEO later moved on to become the Chief Operating Officer at George Soros’s Open Society Foundations. A money trail is also worth noting here: In 2022, Soros’s Open Society gave an organization called Campact a one-time €300,000 donation for “democracy projects, especially combatting hate speech.” Campact professes to be a migrants-rights advocate. Campact then funded HateAid giving it €200,000 in 2022 and another €200,000 in 2023 for “democracy” related projects. So the chain is simple: Soros’s Open Society gave to Campact. Campact gave to HateAid. And HateAid gave the info to Dublin.

To be clear, there is no evidence, at least on the public record, that Open Society (or anyone else) was pushing for Dublin to investigate Musk for his version of free speech - they likely don’t need pushing. And none of this is illegal on its face. But the ideology behind all of it is clear; and showing migrants committing heinous crimes on social media is certainly not part of that culture.

Ireland’s ruling class may still pretend their immigration problem is about social media, housing, or some inherited moral obligation from the centuries when Ireland exported its own people. It is not. It is a sovereignty problem, a border problem, and a national-survival problem.

The Irish people are clearly getting worried. The question is whether their leaders are worried - or whether they have already decided that transformation is the price of virtue. A small island with a hard-won peace, and a culture older than most modern governments, simply cannot absorb unlimited migration without ceasing to be itself. Nor can Dublin outsource control to Brussels, absorb the consequences at home, and scold its own people for noticing what is happening.

Quite a bit, according to some in Greenland.

As the committee stalls on a formal judgment over Denmark’s treatment of thousands of Greenlandic women, President Trump has renewed his push to acquire Greenland and sharply criticized Denmark for resisting. That geopolitical fight is now colliding with Greenland’s human-rights reckoning, injecting fresh political pressure into an already explosive legal process.

Background

Denmark’s conduct is no longer seriously disputed. In fall 2025, a factual report detailed how Danish authorities carried out the so-called “Spiral Campaign” from the mid-1960s through the early-1990s, coercively inserting IUDs into thousands of Greenlandic girls and women - effectively suppressing the fertility of half of Greenland’s childbearing population in an effort to reduce Greenlandic births. The campaign was implemented through a morass of government agencies with support from international population-control zealots. (See full OpsDesk video here.)

Denmark itself largely accepted those facts in the report. The remaining questions are legal: What laws were violated? Was it genocide? What remedies are appropriate? And, where should any claims be pursued?

To answer those questions, Greenland convened an expert human-rights committee. That committee reportedly completed its work by January 31, 2026, and its report was expected shortly thereafter. But it still has not been released. And there are a couple of possible reasons for the delay.

Current Discord

The human rights committee has now fractured. Two members of the four-person panel have withdrawn and submitted a separate report, leaving the Greenland government with competing conclusions on the same record.

Rather than release either report, officials have pushed both into yet another cycle of peer review, translation, and internal evaluation, delaying publication again, with release now projected for late May. What was supposed to be a single definitive legal assessment has devolved into a dual-track bureaucratic maze with no clear endpoint: reports to peers, peers to translators, translators to committees, and committees to who knows where. The explanation is procedural; the reality is familiar. The same diffuse, committee-driven bureaucracy that enabled the Spiral Campaign is now delaying judgment on it.

The explanation offered publicly is “professional disagreement” - centering, at least in part, on whether the Spiral Campaign meets the legal definition of genocide. But the two departing members of the committee suggest there is something else involved.

The Legal Issues

The long-awaited report(s) will not be binding legal decisions. They are simply Greenland’s assessment of which human rights laws were violated - including whether the conduct qualifies as genocide. The committee’s task was straightforward: apply human rights law to the factual findings issued last fall and determine what violations occurred. The report will likely also recommend whether, where, and how any legal action should proceed, civilly or criminally.

Criminal prosecution seems highly unlikely. The only standing international tribunal for prosecuting individuals for crimes such as genocide is the International Criminal Court, but its jurisdiction extends only to conduct occurring after July 1, 2002. Moreover, the factual report issued last fall did not assign responsibility to specific individuals, and criminal law prosecutes people, not governments. Even if it had identified responsible actors, most would likely now be deceased or elderly.

Civil litigation is the more plausible path: a formal declaration placing Denmark alongside perpetrators of atrocities such as those seen in Darfur, Rwanda, Bosnia, and elsewhere -potentially coupled with substantial financial compensation. The likely forum would be the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR), as Denmark is subject to the Court’s jurisdiction through its ratification of the European Convention on Human Rights, though any such case would still face some procedural hurdles. For example, applicants would likely need to seek relief in Danish domestic courts before petitioning the ECHR.

But the legal basis for such claims would not be speculative. The facts outlined in October’s report likely support serious human-rights claims. The ECHR has repeatedly held - particularly in cases involving Eastern European governments - that non-consensual reproductive procedures violate core Convention protections.

Denmark’s actions clearly implicate Article 3’s prohibition on “inhuman and degrading treatment” (see G.M. v. Moldova, 2022 - forced contraception and rape of institutionalized women), as well as Article 8’s protection of bodily autonomy and family life (see V.C. v. Slovakia, 2011 - coerced sterilization of Roma women during childbirth).

But establishing these violations would not end the matter. Denmark may be able to avoid liability by arguing they have already provided redress - having apologized and offered each identified victim approximately $45,000 in compensation.

Whether that is sufficient may be one of the issues dividing the four committee members. Complicating matters further, the victims have not yet been paid, and there is growing concern in Greenland they may never be. Some fear the outcome of Denmark’s 2026 snap election could jeopardize that compensation plan. That election - called by the sitting Prime Minister in an effort to capitalize on her popularity after “standing up” to Donald Trump - has injected fresh political uncertainty into the process.

But the more interesting - and nuanced - legal divide between the committee members may concern discrimination. Denmark’s conduct also implicates Article 14’s prohibition on discrimination, because the policy targeted Greenlandic women, but not Danish women. That discriminatory element may prove important here.

The European Court of Human Rights has readily found Article 14 violations when warranted - whether in D.H. v. Czech Republic, involving systemic segregation of Roma children, or Konstantin Markin v. Russia, striking down gender-based parental leave distinctions. The doctrine is clear: when a state disproportionately burdens a protected group in exercising a Convention right, Article 14 applies.

Yet in the forced sterilization and contraception cases discussed above - despite targeting minority groups - the Court resolved the claims under Articles 3 and 8 without reaching Article 14. Why?

One possible explanation is that reproductive coercion aimed at a minority group moves the conduct uncomfortably close to genocide by suggesting an intent to diminish or destroy a distinct population. Courts are often cautious about stepping into that terrain unless necessary.

Further, the European Court of Human Rights cannot formally adjudicate genocide. Even if it found Denmark violated Article 14 by targeting Greenlandic women, that would not itself be a genocide ruling - only evidence potentially supporting a later genocide case under the Genocide Convention, likely before the International Court of Justice (ICJ). So, was it genocide?

The relevant portion of the Convention defines genocide as:

... any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such: ...

(d) Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group.”
(emphasis added).

At minimum, coerced birth control imposed on teenage Inuit girls would appear to support a substantial claim under that provision. See Prosecutor v. Akayesu, 1998 (recognizing that forced birth control can constitute genocide under the Genocide Convention’s “prevent births” clause).

While the legal process is complex, the core facts appear straightforward and largely uncontested: Denmark coercively implanted contraceptive devices in Greenlandic girls - but not Danish girls - in an effort to reduce the Greenlandic population. On those facts, the conduct appears to strongly implicate Articles 3, 8, and 14 of the European Convention on Human Rights and may also implicate the Genocide Convention.

In sum, the most significant legal hurdles appear to be twofold: First, whether Denmark’s apology and $45,000 payment are sufficient to satisfy its obligations under the European Convention on Human Rights. Second, whether Denmark acted with intent to destroy the Greenlandic people in whole or in part within the meaning of the Genocide Convention.

To be sure, genocide determinations are among the gravest judgments in international law and warrant careful deliberation. But the committee’s prolonged delay suggests something beyond ordinary legal caution may be at work. The facts were established last October, and the committee has been studying the situation for two years. It should not take this long to apply law to settled facts, which raises the real question: is legal complexity truly causing the delay, or is something else dividing the committee?

What May Really Be Causing the Delay

The rift may not be about the law at all. It may be about whether to pursue the case further. The committee’s report(s) are merely advisory pronouncements on whether human-rights laws were violated; they would likely serve only as the first step toward any formal adjudication of liability and remedies.

Enter Donald Trump.

The two dissenting members of Greenland’s human rights committee did not simply disagree and move on. They issued a separate report and stated publicly that their split with the majority involved “methodological disputes” and the “geopolitical situation.”

There is only one obvious geopolitical issue they could be referencing: Donald Trump and Greenland.

After a lull, President Trump has once again begun publicly discussing Greenland as a strategic asset and renewing his push for U.S. control of the island. That places Denmark in a sensitive position within the Western alliance and Greenland’s leadership in an even more delicate one. The last thing Copenhagen or Nuuk may want right now is an official human-rights report branding Denmark’s historical conduct in Greenland in the harshest possible legal terms.

If the committee were to conclude that Denmark’s actions support a claim of genocide, that finding could provide a basis for any state party to the Genocide Convention (including the U.S.) to initiate proceedings against Denmark in the International Court of Justice. The ICJ could then formally adjudicate the claim, determine whether Denmark violated the Convention, and order reparations.

And even short of a genocide case, a damaging human rights report against Denmark - suggesting violations of the the Genocide Convention or the European Convention on Human Rights - would hand President Trump a potent rhetorical weapon: the argument that Denmark has forfeited the moral authority to govern Greenland, and that the United States should replace Denmark as Greenland’s protector or overseer.

Perhaps the delay is legal caution. Perhaps it is ordinary bureaucratic dysfunction. But when committee members themselves cite the “geopolitical situation,” and that situation happens to involve Donald Trump openly eyeing Greenland, skepticism is warranted. The law may be complicated. The politics are not. Everyone involved understands what a genocide finding against Denmark would mean in the middle of Trump’s Greenland campaign. And so the report sits.

On July 26, 2024, someone in the Biden administration signed Joe Biden’s name to an order titled “Presidential Determination on Refugee Admissions,” permitting all (largely unvetted) Lebanese refugees to remain in the United States. The order was “signed” one month after Joe Biden appeared on stage for the now-infamous debate with Donald Trump - when most of the country finally admitted that the President was cognitively impaired.

On September 29, 2023, someone in the Biden administration signed Joe Biden’s name to a Presidential Determination allowing between 30,000 and 45,000 migrants from the Near East and South Asia - Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, and others - to enter the United States. That order ultimately allowed 14,708 (unvetted) Afghans to come into the country. The order was signed just one month before Special Counsel Robert Hur interviewed Joe Biden and concluded that the President was, in effect, incapable of standing trial - describing him as an “elderly man with a poor memory.” The now-public audio recordings of that interview – recordings which should have been released immediately - confirm Hur’s assessment

So: Were any of these orders actually valid? Did Joe Biden even issue these orders?

Who was actually running America in the waning years of the Biden administration?

At this point, it appears virtually certain that Joe Biden lacked the mental capacity in 2023 and 2024 to meaningfully understand many of his orders. And it’s not just Republicans saying so. Drawing on more than 200 interviews with people inside and outside the administration, CNN reporter Jake Tapper has reported that a small cadre of advisors, referred to internally as “the politburo,” were effectively running the White House during this period. Further, both Tapper’s reporting and a Congressional report agree that Biden was in effect sheltered away. This strongly suggests that decisions relating to immigration and national security during that time may have been made by people other than the duly elected President. And for that, criminal sanctions are appropriate.

The above two immigration orders are, of course, only examples - examples that come to mind in light of the recent spate of terror attacks over the past two weeks. But the number and scope of presidential directives issued during those years extend far beyond immigration policy.

While the shadow presidency has faded a bit from public dialogue, last week, the issue briefly resurfaced in the headlines when reports indicated that the Department of Justice had decided to close its criminal investigation into the matter. Those reports were quickly corrected however, and it was later announced that the investigation is, in fact, continuing. What caused the confusion remains unclear. For now however, it appears that criminal charges remain possible.

The 2025 Congressional investigation into this affair concluded last October with a report describing the events as one of the “biggest political scandals in U.S. history.” While the report and accompanying deposition transcripts are long and often tedious, they do clearly back up the claim – this is not hyperbole. Although the full picture has yet to emerge, what is already clear is that - even when judged against the long history of presidential controversies - this episode is simply remarkable.

Current Status of Investigations

The 2025 Congressional investigation led to fourteen depositions of Joe Biden’s inner circle at the White House. The Committee’s final report concludes in broad terms that the President experienced significant cognitive and physical decline and that his staff worked to conceal it. The report also found that staff members regularly used the autopen to sign presidential orders without adhering to the proper policies and procedures governing such delegated authority. In some cases it appears clear the President may not have even been aware of the orders being issued in his name.

The Committee also referred the matter to the Department of Justice for a wider investigation into the situation, including into the White House doctor Robert O’Connor, and two Biden aides: Annie Tomasini and Anthony Bernal, who refused to testify relying instead on their 5^th Amendment right to remain silent in the face of criminal exposure.

Last week’s report that they the D.O.J. was closing the criminal investigation, may signal that the Justice Department is having problems making a criminal case. If criminal charges can be brought, they obviously should be. The leverage of possible jail time is likely the best way to get to the full truth here. But the burden of proof in a criminal case, combined with the current political climate in the judiciary, and the likely venue in the District of Colombia, could make bringing a criminal case difficult at this point.

We have recently seen the impact that anti-Trump (pro-Democrat) sentiment can have on potential prosecutions. Consider the cases involving James Comey, Letitia James, and the six Democrat senators implicated in the alleged treason matter. Whether those cases were ultimately winnable is beside the point. In earlier eras, cases like these would likely have been considered at least “indictable.” Today, that appears far less certain. And that may be what the Department of Justice is struggling with.

In any event, regardless of whether criminal charges can ultimately be brought, the Trump administration should consider an alternative route to push this case along: civil litigation.

Civil Litigation

While it may not lead to immediate arrests, civil litigation could still produce meaningful results. At a minimum, it would likely generate additional evidence, which could increase the chances of future criminal charges, including electronic discovery - emails, texts, phone records, etc. The bottom line is that the country needs some form of judicial determination about what actually occurred here.Without such a determination, those who effectively acted as president may escape accountability under the cover of partisan politics, while the effects of their policies remain in place.

Any improperly issued orders, should be reversed, both for symbolic reasons and for practical ones. Some of those actions may still be conferring benefits or producing ongoing consequences that continue to harm the country. The liberal excesses of the Biden years, it now appears, may have been administered by this unelected and unaccountable politburo, driving policies such as open borders, trans-rights initiatives, and DEI extremism. This is a point President Trump has made repeatedly when asked about some of the more perplexing Biden Administration policies:

The Inflation Reduction Act was another Biden scam. And when I say Biden, it’s not Biden. It was the lunatics that work around the - you know, in the Oval Office, around the beautiful Resolute desk. (Donald Trump, June 30, 2025)

From a civil litigation standpoint, there is no shortage of potential orders to examine - financial directives, immigration policies, pardons, and other actions issued during the relevant period. Administration lawyers need to identify the cases with the strongest chance of success, select the most suitable targets and jurisdictions, and then attempt to prove that the President did not actually issue the order. This is no small task. But in a civil proceeding, the burden of proof is not beyond a reasonable doubt - and the government would not need to secure an indictment from a potentially hostile grand jury in order to proceed.

There will, of course, be significant roadblocks, largely because the situation is so unusual. Additionally, a legal concept called the “presumption of regularity” will effectively place the burden on the Trump administration to prove the Biden orders were not authorized by President Biden. But this hurdle is hardly insurmountable. The Congressional depositions should help here, as they show clearly that there was in fact no regularity regarding Presidential orders - no established procedures that were followed relating to obtaining or documenting Joe Biden’s authorization. Indeed, in multiple cases the deponents could not even identify who physically used the autopen - and there was no log to reference.

In a typical situation, an inquiry of this nature might just focus on whether Joe Biden was mentally incapacitated. But when the President of the United States is involved, the Constitution assigns that determination exclusively to the political process under the Twenty-Fifth Amendment. Courts cannot make that finding. The administration would therefore need to prove something different: that the orders were not issued by the President at all - that someone else acted without presidential authorization, regardless of the President’s mental condition.

Biden’s incompetence therefore is only really relevant to demonstrate how and why others may have taken the reigns. And whether it was an autopen, that affixed the name “Joseph Biden” to the paper is likewise only tangentially relevant to demonstrate that the President was likely not present when the document was signed. The real question is whether the order was authorized by the President.

Proving that point in even one case could have far-reaching consequences. If an order is invalid for one person, it would likely be invalid for all others similarly situated. The good news is that the American civil court system has extensive experience correcting widespread errors and fraud. Addressing such systemic problems can be slow and burdensome, but it is far from unprecedented. And the process can be very effective in discovering new evidence.

Pardons

The issue that has drawn the most attention in this controversy is the pardons. Negating presidential pardons would certainly present a novel legal situation, but reincarcerating improperly released prisoners is not. Early releases caused by administrative errors are remarkably common, and the law is clear that prisoners may be taken back into custody when such errors occur. There are even cases where large numbers of mistaken releases were later corrected en masse. So how might something like this be addressed if the underlying pardon itself is in doubt?

Going back to the original sentencing judge and seeking an arrest warrant to return the prisoner to custody appears to be the most prudent course. It would likely be in that context that the question of who actually authorized and signed the pardon could be litigated. The Department of Justice may have a strategic advantage here, because it can decide which pardon to challenge, taking into account both the particular prisoner involved and the sentencing judge who would hear the matter.

Exactly how the proceedings would unfold from there is uncertain, but hearings would likely be scheduled and additional testimony from the individuals involved could follow. Importantly, the burden of proof would not be beyond a reasonable doubt. This would not be a criminal prosecution; rather, it would be a civil proceeding focused on determining who issued the order and who actually signed the relevant document.

Of particular importance here could be the deposition testimony of Jill Biden’s Chief of Staff Anthony Bernal, which is highly favorable to the Trump administration’s position. When asked under oath whether any pardons were issued without President Biden’s authorization, Bernal invoked his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination.

In a civil proceeding, such as the one contemplated here, invoking the Fifth Amendment can permit an “adverse inference.” In other words, the court may presume that the answer would have been unfavorable to the witness. Applied here, that inference could support the conclusion that someone other than the President authorized or signed the pardons. That would be a significant step toward resolving the question of their validity.

Financial Directives

Money transferred pursuant to an improper order could also be addressed through civil litigation. In the three months between Donald Trump’s victory in the 2024 election and his inauguration, the Biden administration reportedly distributed roughly $100 billion in grants, largely directed toward climate change initiatives, but also toward student loan relief and foreign aid.

Most of these expenditures appear to have been authorized under existing statutes, so likely did not need Presidential authorization. But not necessarily all of them fall into that category. The spending must be carefully parsed.

The central question remains simple: who approved the actions? Any measure taken during this period that required presidential authorization or signature should be closely scrutinized. Where the President’s actual approval is uncertain - or cannot be verified - the matter could provide the basis for civil litigation.

Recouping funds is, after all, the central function of America’s civil court system. Courts routinely order the return of money through restitution, or “clawback” orders. Bankruptcy law provides many examples, where even innocent recipients must return funds that were improperly distributed because of someone else’s wrongdoing. These cases can lead to difficult outcomes - people who relied on the money for legitimate purposes may nonetheless be required to give it back. The Bernie Madoff cases produced many such situations.

Beyond the last-minute grants, numerous financial orders conveying federal funds were issued throughout 2023 and 2024 - the years the President appeared clearly compromised. The Trump administration should review all such directives to determine whether they were actually ordered by the President.

Bringing these financial issues before a court may not be especially difficult procedurally. If the government attempts to adjust accounts internally or sends demand letters seeking repayment, the recipients will likely challenge those actions. Such disputes would almost certainly end up in federal court, providing a forum capable of addressing the question of authorization - and, once again, an opportunity to uncover (under oath) more evidence about what actually occurred.

Immigration and the Border

But the most interesting possibility involves some of the immigration directives that were ostensibly signed by President Biden. With the current threat environment at home, heightened by war overseas, there is renewed urgency in identifying and removing potential security risks.

While these may be the most complicated orders to challenge, they could also prove the most consequential. Consider where we are. President Joe Biden’s 2024 and 2025 Refugee designations increased the number of refugees admitted to roughly ten times the level set during Donald Trump’sadministration, and those directives also removed President Trump’s ban on Somali refugees. Yet it is possible that someone other than the President was responsible for issuing them. Those refugees are still here. Could civil litigation over the validity of those orders provide a way to determine the legal status of these refugees en masse? It is at least worth examining.

It is true that many of the Biden administration’s immigration policies have since been modified or replaced by directives issued by the Trump administration. Nonetheless, many migrants entered the country pursuant to what appeared at the time to be valid presidential orders. If some of those directives were not valid at all however, the question becomes unavoidable: what is the legal status of those individuals now?

Challenging any suspect immigration orders could prove uniquely complex, however, because immigration courts - somewhat counterintuitively - are part of the executive branch. As a result, immigration judges likely lack the authority to effectively void what appears, on its face, to be a presidential order.

A ruling of this nature would likely have to come from the regular U.S. federal courts – and perhaps ultimately from the U.S. Supreme Court. Several procedural mechanisms could be used to bring such a case, but the most likely vehicle would be the Declaratory Judgment Act, which, in very general terms, allows a federal court to resolve a legal controversy by declaring the rights and obligations of the parties involved.

Once before the court, hearings and evidentiary proceedings would almost certainly follow, providing another opportunity to develop additional facts. If a court ultimately determines that one or more of the Biden administration’s border orders was invalid, that ruling could significantly simplify - or expedite - immigration proceedings for large groups of affected individuals. Complicated yes. But perhaps worth the effort.

A recent report in the New York Times indicates that some advisors warned senior officials in the Biden White House (i.e. “the politburo”) that the administration’s open border policies could lead to disaster. According to the report, senior advisers refused to change course because they were concerned about alienating Hispanic voters ahead of the 2024 election. If true, that is abominable - particularly when combined with deposition testimony from one of those top advisors, Mike Donilon, who acknowledged that he stood to earn $8 million if Joe Biden was re-elected.

Given these circumstances, it is important to determine - through whatever legal means are available - whether any migrants entered the country pursuant to a presidential order that was not actually issued by the President, but instead issued by others acting on political, ideological, or personal motivations.

Don’t Stop

None of these paths are simple, and much of this territory is uncharted. The procedural protections afforded to criminal defendants - including the extremely high burden of proof - may ultimately make a criminal prosecution unwinnable at this point. Last week’s brief halt and restart of the Justice Department’s investigation may already reflect that reality. Still, the country should not simply let the matter drop. Civil litigation may not provide the most satisfying outcome, but it is far better than doing nothing.

First, in some instances it could correct improper actions - recovering money and changing the legal status of individuals who may have been designated improperly, whether migrants or pardon recipients. In short, it may offer a mechanism to restore lawful outcomes where they may have been distorted.

Second, civil proceedings would place more facts on the public record. Additional depositions could clarify how decisions were made and who was responsible - including, potentially, testimony from figures such as Jill Biden, Hunter Biden, or even the former president himself, for whatever that is worth. Obtaining all electronic communications from the relevant actors could also lead to interesting evidence. Congress has already begun this work, but judicial findings would carry greater authority and could help build broader acceptance of the facts. They could also prompt legislation establishing clearer procedures for documenting actual presidential authorization - and clearer criminal sanctions for violations.

Finally, pursuing the issue would help ensure that anyone involved in issuing improper orders is identified - even if criminal sanctions ultimately prove unavailable. Anyone complicit in circumventing legitimate presidential authority should be exposed and recorded for history in what appears increasingly likely to be the most serious breach of executive authority in modern American governance.

Public footage and reporting indicate that the former CNN anchor, now an independent journalist, embedded with activists who conducted what he described as “reconnaissance” of a church in St. Paul, Minnesota, and then entered an active worship service to protest ICE. They did not remain outside or wait for the service to end. They went in. The service was disrupted. Clergy were confronted. Worship was impeded.

Lemon and his crew filmed the intrusion, participated in the confrontation, interviewed the pastor mid-disruption, expressed agreement with the protesters, and distributed the footage. Those facts are already clear. Others are still developing. But even now, they intersect directly with federal civil-rights statutes aimed specifically at interference with religious worship. And those statutes do not turn on whether someone calls himself a journalist.

When Disruption Becomes a Federal Crime

Federal law contains two overlapping criminal statutes that protect religious worship from obstruction and intimidation: the Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act, 18 U.S. Code § 248 (the FACE Act), and the Church Arson Prevention Act, 18 U.S.C. § 247. Together, these statutes make it a federal crime to intentionally interfere with religious worship or access to a place of worship, including by force or threats, physical obstruction, interference with congregants, or attacks on religious property.

The actions of the protesting mob at Cities Church on Sunday appear to fit squarely within the conduct these two statutes were enacted to prohibit.Each statute authorizes a sentence of up to one year in prison for a first-time, non-aggravated violation, creating up to two years of total potential exposure.

In addition, if more than one person planned or coordinated that conduct, a third statute follows almost automatically. Under 18 U.S.C. § 241 (the modern criminal descendant of the Reconstruction-era Ku Klux Klan Acts), it is a felony for two or more persons to conspire to injure, oppress, threaten, or intimidate individuals in the free exercise of rights secured by federal law. United States v. Oropesa, 159 F.4th 912 (11th Cir. 2025). Religious worship is one of those protected rights.

The publicly visible facts already point to coordinated conduct aimed at disrupting services at Cities Church. They obviously planned this to some degree. This is where Don Lemon’s communications, both electronic messages and oral statements, become critical. His own posted videos show him acknowledging involvement in “reconnaissance” of the church, placing him not merely at the scene, but within the planning phase of the operation. If there was an express or implied agreement between Lemon and any of the others to engage in unlawful interference, he faces serious criminal exposure. Assuming no aggravating factors such as injury or death, defendants convicted of federal conspiracy face a statutory maximum of ten years in prison for conspiracy alone.

The Embedded Participant Issue

Further, even if it cannot be proven that Lemon directly violated either of the two civil-rights statutes, or the conspiracy statute, he can still be convicted of aiding and abetting the other violators. Under 18 U.S.C. § 2, anyone who aids or abets the commission of a federal offense is punishable as a principal.

Federal criminal law is not concerned with whether Lemon considers himself a reporter. It is instead focused on his conduct - whether he associated himself with a venture, participated in it as something he wished to bring about, and sought by his actions to make it succeed. That is the core test for accomplice liability. Unlike conspiracy, it does not require proof of a formal agreement, only that the defendant knowingly and intentionally helped the crime succeed.

The Eighth Circuit (which includes Minnesota) has explained that accomplice liability requires only proof that the defendant “intended to promote or facilitate the underlying crime.” United States v. Boleyn, 929 F.3d 932 (8th Cir. 2019).

Lemon’s filming alone likely does not satisfy that standard; so, if an unrelated journalist learned of the encounter and rushed to the scene to film the confrontation, liability would likely not attach – though there would likely still be a question about that journalist brining a camera into private property (the church) to film. But in any event, that’s not what happened with Don Lemon.

Lemon’s own video appears to confirm both his participation in, and agreement with, the mob’s “assembly.” He says as much on camera. The publicly available footage shows Lemon embedding with the protesters, admitting to having conducted prior ‘surveillance’ of the church, entering the church with the mob, confronting the pastor, and arguing with him about the protesters’ claimed right to “assemble” inside his church because of their opposition to ICE. The videos further show Lemon confronting parishioners, pressing them to take positions on controversial political issues, advancing arguments against ICE, making derogatory remarks about white parishioners (calling them “MAGA-coated”) all while broadcasting the events, presumably for commercial gain. He also acknowledges on camera that the invasion is causing trauma to parishioners and identifies crying children, before adding, “that’s what protesting is about.”

It is very difficult to distinguish Don Lemon’s actions here from the actions of the other protesters. And the fact that he has a famous face, and a camera, will very likely be viewed by prosecutors as an enhancing factor, not a mitigating one. Indeed, it seems likely many of the worshipers saw his famous face and the camera as one of the most intimidatingfeatures of the church invasion. When the possible offense is understood as involving an intrusion into private religious worship, it becomes easier to see why a journalist with a camera may be viewed as an active participant rather than a passive observer.

And notwithstanding Lemon’s public assertions, filming yourself engaging in a crime does not immunize you from the crime. Participating in a crime while carrying a camera, just makes you a participant with good evidence. Evidence that, in Lemon’s case, he put out on the internet, and right into the hands of his possible prosecutors.

William Bryan had a camera when two others murdered Ahmaud Arbery in Georgia. (Don Lemon covered that case.) Bryan followed Arbery in his truck and filmed as the other two defendants carried out the killing. Bryan did not fire the weapon and did not initiate the encounter. But federal prosecutors charged him under the civil-rights statutes, and a jury convicted him. The court treated his pursuit, presence, and filming, combined, not as passive observation, but as participation.

This is not a novel issue. The cameraman for GirlsDoPorn didn’t recruit victims nor did he run the illegal website. He was “just the cameraman.” But if he wasn’t filming, the crimes in that case likely would not have occurred. He was charged, and was convicted of conspiracy and sex-trafficking offenses, despite styling himself as “just the cameraman.”

With the explosion of social media, criminals filming their crimes for broadcast is becoming almost commonplace.

We saw this in the high-profile murder of retired police chief Andreas ‘Andy’ Probst, where the passenger in a stolen SUV filmed his friend deliberately driving into Probst as he rode his bicycle in a designated bike lane. The video was later shared on social media, leading to their arrests. Both the driver and the passenger were charged and convicted. The filming was not treated as incidental, but as part of the criminal conduct itself. Would these two have murdered Chief Probst, if they didn’t have a camera? Would the protesters outside the church have waited for Don Lemon to arrive before entering?

We see this dynamic now pervasively in high schools, where a sharp rise in organized fights since 2020 has been linked to the pursuit of online attention and viral “fame.” And we see it again in the current protests in Minnesota, where demonstrators show up to impede ICE wearing costumes and staging performances, clearly anticipating digital distribution.

In each setting, the camera does not merely record the crime. It changes the crime. It incentivizes it. It amplifies it. Lemon’s presence and conduct may therefore be viewed as encouraging the offense and aiding the intimidation and interference itself.

The First Amendment

Lemon’s instinct to run to the First Amendment is not surprising for a journalist but is likely no help to him here. A federal court in Tennessee addressed this clearly last year:

The matter at issue…is whether the defendants violated the FACE Act and/or the conspiracy statute not whether they might also have engaged in some other activities that did not violate the FACE Act…There is no doctrine by which a defendant can use a little bit of First Amendment protected activity to homeopathically immunize a criminal conspiracy. United States v. Gallagher, No. 3:22 cr 00327 (M.D. Tenn. Jan. 5, 2024).

The First Amendment protects prayer. It protects protest. It protects journalism. It clearly does not protect physically obstructing the religious worship of others. If Lemon participated in conduct that meets the statutory elements of obstruction or conspiracy, the presence of expressive components becomes legally irrelevant.

John Sullivan also called himself a journalist. He entered the Capitol with a camera on January 6, 2021. He filmed the breach. He sold his footage. But the evidence also showed him encouraging rioters and shaping events as he recorded them. A federal jury rejected his journalism defense and convicted him of multiple felonies. He was sentenced to six years in federal prison.

Samuel Christopher Montoya was also charged for his actions on January 6^th. He reportedly worked for Infowars. He filmed inside the building, celebrated what was happening on camera, and later published the footage online. The First Amendment didn’t save him either. He was charged and eventually took a plea deal.

Unfortunately for him, Don Lemon now operates in a digital social-media world, where he is no longer filtered through whatever gatekeeping role CNN once played. That reality has already generated a substantial body of potential evidence. On its own, Lemon’s public digital footprint makes criminal exposure increasingly plausible. In theory, if convicted, he may have broadcasted his own crimes.

The Department of Justice has publicly placed Mr. Lemon “on notice” that he is under investigation. That status carries a serious warning: if he now destroys, alters, or conceals any communications, he could face a separate felony charge under 18 U.S.C. § 1519 punishable by up to twenty years in federal prison. And it is those private communications with the others who stormed the church, if they exist, that could help establish another layer of potential federal charges.

If Don Lemon traveled to Minnesota to engage in the church raid, or used interstate electronic communications to help facilitate it, federal prosecutors may also consider charges under 18 U.S.C. § 1952 (the Travel Act), which makes it a separate federal offense to travel in interstate commerce or use any facility of interstate commerce (including mail, telephones, or electronic communications) with the intent to facilitate unlawful activity, and thereafter take steps to carry it out. A violation of the Travel Act is punishable by up to five years’ imprisonment.

If the communications evidence confirms interstate travel or coordinated facilitation, Lemon could be facing many years in federal prison - not for documenting a civil-rights offense, but for engaging in one.

That rule now sits before the Supreme Court in Wolford v. Lopez a test of how far states can go in restricting gun rights after the Supreme Court’s landmark 2022 decision in New York State Rifle & Pistol Association v. Bruen.

In Bruen, the Court ruled that the Second Amendment protects the right of ordinary Americans to carry handguns in public for self-defense, except in “sensitive places” such as schools, courthouses, and government buildings. The justices warned that defining sensitive locations too broadly would “in effect exempt cities from the Second Amendment and eviscerate the general right to publicly carry arms for self-defense.”

Since then, several states have expanded those definitions to cover vast areas of public life. Hawaii’s Act 52 goes further. It does not only label parks and government buildings as sensitive; it extends the ban to private property open to the public unless the owner explicitly gives permission. Petitioners say the rule effectively covers 96 percent of the publicly accessible land in Maui County.

Critics call it a backdoor ban. Supporters say it respects property rights and the freedom of business owners to decide what enters their premises.

Back Door Ban

After the Court in Bruen struck down New York’s “may issue” licensing regime, states rewrote their laws to comply on paper while narrowing carry rights in practice. Hawaii’s Act 52 is among the most sweeping.

The law bans guns in fifteen categories of sensitive places, including bars, parks, and government buildings, and then adds a default rule: all private property open to the public is off limits unless the owner says otherwise. To gun owners, that transforms a constitutional right into a privilege that depends on a store clerk’s approval. The Ninth Circuit disagreed permitting the default rule. The gun-owner has appealed, arguing in sum that “The right to bear arms can’t require an invitation.”

Ninth Circuit Points to Racist Laws as American “Tradition”
Under the Supreme Court’s decision in Bruen, governments must justify gun regulations by showing they align with the nation’s historical tradition of firearm regulation. So, to uphold Hawaii’s default rule, the Ninth Circuit had to identify historical examples demonstrating that American law has traditionally allowed gun bans on private property.

The panel cited an eighteenth-century New Jersey law banning armed trespass to prevent poaching and an 1865 Louisiana statute that prohibited carrying firearms onto plantations without the owner’s consent. But that Louisiana statute came from a darker place. Passed amid the post–Civil War Black Codes, it was used to disarm freedmen and preserve white control over plantations.

Southern legislatures and their political supporters during Reconstruction made efforts “to deprive colored citizens of the right to bear arms ... and to reduce the colored people to a condition closely akin to that of slavery.” H. Journal, 42nd Cong., 2d Sess. 716 (1872) (statement of President Grant). Louisiana’s 1865 law is part of that invidious tradition and, far from being indicative of the Constitution’s meaning, is “probative of what the Constitution does not mean.” Rahimi, 602 U.S. at 720 (Kavanaugh, J., concurring).

Wolford v. Lopez, 125 F.4th 1230, 1239-40 (9th Cir. 2025)(dissenting opinion)

Dissenting Judges VanDyke and Collins found these laws incomparable, focusing on their underlying purpose. Those early regulations addressed narrow concerns such as trespass and hunting; they were not designed to disarm the public. The judges also noted that the Reconstruction-era Black Codes were enacted to oppress freedmen and cannot be treated as part of the nation’s legitimate tradition. Hawaii’s defense effectively asks the Court to bless a practice rooted in racial subjugation and to use that legacy to justify banning guns on nearly all private property open to the public.

The Circuit Split

The controversy reached Washington because another appeals court went the other way. The Second Circuit, in Antonyuk v. James, struck down New York’s nearly identical law, ruling there is no historical tradition of banning carry on private property open to the public. The Third Circuit in Koons v. Attorney General of New Jersey reached the same conclusion.

With the circuits divided, Wolford became the ideal vehicle for Supreme Court review.

What the Court Will Decide

In practice, a licensee can be lawful on the sidewalk but needs express permission to carry inside a shop or its premises, including posted authorization at the entrance or elsewhere on the property. Violations of the default property rule are punishable as a misdemeanor.

Supporters defend the law as a matter of property rights. They point to the right to exclude as a core attribute of ownership, a principle the Supreme Court has repeatedly recognized.

The Supreme Court must decide whether states may make “no guns on private property” the default rule, or if the Second Amendment protects carrying there unless owners opt out. Petitioners argue the law reverses the constitutional presumption and lacks historical support. Hawaii says property law allows such a rule. The decision will define post-Bruen gun rights for the entire country, determining whether public carry depends on individual consent or constitutional protection.

If Congress subpoenas former President Barack Obama to testify about his role in the now-discredited Trump–Russia investigation, there are two questions the public should focus on. First, can he be forced to testify? Second, if he lies, can he be prosecuted?

The answer to both questions is yes.

Let’s start with the obvious: the timeline. Whatever criminal conduct may have occurred during the 2016 election and transition - the illegal surveillance, deception of the FISA court, politically motivated intelligence abuse - it happened nearly a decade ago. For most federal crimes, the statute of limitations is five years. See 18 U.S.C. § 3282. That means that absent a specific tolling provision or ongoing conspiracy, prosecution is now off the table. Even if Obama broke the law, the window for accountability closed sometime between 2021 and 2023.

Additionally, because of the Supreme Court’s ruling in Trump v. United States, where the Court held that a former president is absolutely immune from criminal prosecution for official acts taken while in office, President Obama would likely be immune from prosecution. So even if it is clear that President Obama had authorized illegal surveillance or directed law enforcement or intelligence agencies to target political opponents while acting as the President, then under the Trump decision, he is categorically immune from criminal prosecution for those acts. That immunity is retroactive and permanent. It protects Obama now just as it protects Trump.

But that new immunity that the Supreme Court just clarified in Trump v. United States is a double-edged sword, because that immunity also means that under clear Supreme Court precedent, President Obama would no longer enjoy a Fifth Amendment right to refuse to testify in front of Congress.

A witness can only assert the Fifth if they face a real and appreciable risk of criminal prosecution. See Ohio v. Reiner, 532 U.S. 17 (2001). If the acts in question are immune from prosecution, then there is no valid Fifth Amendment privilege.

This rule is not just implied, it is explicit in Supreme Court case law. In Kastigar v. United States, the Court held:

Immunity displaces the danger. Once the reason for the privilege ceases, the privilege ceases. 406 U.S. 441, 439 (1972)

So if Congress subpoenas Obama to testify about his official role in the Russia investigation, and if the current President (Donald Trump) declines to assert executive privilege on his behalf, then Obama cannot invoke either executive or Fifth Amendment privilege to avoid testifying. The right to assert executive privilege belongs to the office of the presidency, and the decision whether to assert that right is made by the current president, Donald Trump.

So unless Donald Trump asserts executive privilege, President Obama will have to speak. He will have to tell the truth.

And if he lies, he can be prosecuted.

The key statute here is 18 U.S.C. § 1001, which makes it a felony to knowingly and willfully make any materially false statement in any matter within the jurisdiction of the federal government, including testimony before Congress. Unlike perjury, § 1001 does not require an oath. It doesn’t matter if Obama is testifying in a closed-door deposition, under subpoena, or voluntarily. If he knowingly lies about a material fact, that’s a crime. The penalty? Up to five years in prison.

And if he does testify under oath in front of Congress and lies, then 18 U.S.C. § 1621 also comes into play. That statute criminalizes perjury, false statements made under oath about a material matter.

This is not a theoretical concern. If documents, recordings, or other witnesses contradict Obama’s testimony - if he denies authorizing surveillance that other officials say he did approve, or denies knowledge of a FISA application that bears his briefing memo - he could be exposed. And unlike most political witnesses, Obama’s status as a former president wouldn’t shield him from testifying. In fact, the legal standard would be even clearer: his prior immunity from prosecution removes his right to remain silent, and any knowing falsehood is fully chargeable under federal law. And it would not be time-barred.

Congress has long been reluctant to compel testimony from former presidents. But there is no legal barrier to doing so, especially when the current president waives privilege. Trump has already done so in other investigations, and it seems very likely President Trump would do so here as well. If he does, Obama’s only options would be to testify truthfully or risk committing a fresh felony in front of the nation. Any case for lying to Congress would be prosecuted in the District of Columbia by U.S. Attorney Jeanine Pirro.

It would be ironic. The original conduct - the coordination, the surveillance, the misleading intelligence assessments - may have been unlawful but is now out of reach. The Supreme Court says it cannot be punished. But if Obama lies to Congress to cover it up, he could still go to prison. Not for what he did as president. But for what he says he didn’t do, years later, as a citizen.

And that might not just be poetic justice. It’s the law.

Today in Congress, President Biden’s physician invoked his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination. While part of the country may not want to keep this issue alive, Congress is - and it should. America needs to confront this - not for political reasons, since no one knows for sure what the political fallout of scrutinizing President Biden’s condition will be - but because our constitutional law does not provide clear answers for how to handle a situation like the surrogate presidency we all just lived through. But we do have laws. And those laws are now under the microscope as investigators begin to trace who knew what, who acted on the president’s behalf, and whether any of it violated federal statutes.

The House Oversight Committee is actively investigating these issues, having already subpoenaed top former aides, including longtime advisor Anita Dunn, policy director Neera Tanden, and White House physician Dr. Kevin O’Connor. Dr. O’Connor has invoked his Fifth Amendment rights, declining to answer questions about the president’s medical condition or about the preparation of medical summaries released to the public. Former President Donald Trump, whose own administration officials may have some overlapping knowledge, has formally waived executive privilege, clearing the way for key witness testimony before Congress. More subpoenas are expected, and DOJ is reportedly conducting a parallel review. The legal implications of what emerges from these proceedings could be far-reaching.

At the center of this inquiry are two interlocking questions: First, was the president, at any time, cognitively unfit to execute his office? And second, did others act to obscure that fact in a way that violated federal law? While diminished capacity itself is not a crime, using the power of the presidency to mask such incapacity, or acting on behalf of an impaired president without lawful authority, may implicate multiple felony statutes depending on the facts that ultimately emerge.

If White House aides or medical professionals knowingly lied in official documents or statements about Biden’s cognitive state, they may be exposed under 18 U.S.C. § 1001, which prohibits materially false statements in matters within federal jurisdiction. That statute is exceptionally broad and has been used to prosecute everyone from FBI agents to cabinet officials. It does not require an oath, only that the falsehood be material and intentional. If, for instance, a public letter declared Biden to be "fully capable" of fulfilling his duties, but that statement was known by its author to be false, criminal liability could attach.

Further, if any individual took part in a coordinated effort to deceive federal bodies or obstruct oversight efforts regarding the president’s fitness, 18 U.S.C. § 371 (conspiracy to defraud the United States) and 18 U.S.C. § 1505 (obstruction of congressional proceedings) may be triggered. The conspiracy statute covers any agreement between two or more people to impair the lawful functions of government through deceit. The obstruction statute criminalizes any corrupt effort to impede congressional inquiries. These are not abstract theories: both have been used in recent years to prosecute public officials who coordinated deceptive responses to congressional investigations.

The possible misuse of the autopen raises separate legal concerns. In 2005, the Department of Justice’s Office of Legal Counsel issued an opinion stating that the president may lawfully authorize a subordinate to use an autopen to sign legislation, provided that the president has made a final decision and personally directed the signature. But that same opinion implicitly confirms that unauthorized use, particularly in the absence of presidential understanding or consent, would fall outside legal bounds. If President Biden was not mentally capable of reviewing or approving documents, and aides nevertheless affixed his signature to bills, orders, or pardons via autopen, they could be liable under 18 U.S.C. § 494, which criminalizes forging the signature of a U.S. official with intent to defraud.

In addition to forgery, such actions could also implicate 18 U.S.C. § 1519 (falsification of federal records) or § 2071(concealment or destruction of records), if the underlying documentation, such as memos about presidential intent or health evaluations, was altered or withheld to support the illusion of competency. If the White House physician knowingly issued false medical certifications, that could trigger 18 U.S.C. § 1035, which governs fraudulent health care statements involving federal programs.

Beyond criminal exposure, the use of the autopen in this context raises a deeper constitutional concern. What is the legal status of a law, executive order, or pardon if the person whose signature appears had no knowledge or understanding of what was being signed? The Office of Legal Counsel’s 2005 memo assumes a president who is fully engaged and giving lawful direction. If that assumption fails, then the legitimacy of entire categories of presidential action could be called into question. That’s not just a legal technicality - it’s a threat to the integrity of the executive branch. This is yet another reason the full truth must come out.

What ultimately emerges will depend on the testimony of witnesses and the paper trail left behind. Key questions will include: Did the president approve autopen usage for specific documents? Was he capable of understanding what he was signing? Were medical summaries truthful at the time they were issued? Did aides coordinate talking points or restrict access to prevent cabinet officials, Congress, or the public from learning the truth? Each affirmative answer could become another brick in the wall of criminal exposure.

Intent will be central. A mistaken judgment about the president’s abilities is not a crime; a willful cover-up, carried out through deception or document falsification, very well may be. If the facts show that senior officials knowingly acted on behalf of a president who could not understand or approve the actions taken in his name, the Department of Justice could be compelled to act.

It’s clear that the man we saw on stage during the last presidential debate was not capable of running the country. The charade should have ended long before then. If testimony and evidence confirm that intentional deception or fraud occurred in the exercise of executive power, the statutes are already on the books. The only question then will be whether prosecutors choose to enforce them.

Mamdani, a Democratic Socialist and state legislator from Queens, has vowed to direct the NYPD to detain Netanyahu under the auspices of an International Criminal Court (ICC) arrest warrant for alleged war crimes in Gaza. This is his campaign promise.

It’s tempting to dismiss this as theater. A play to his base from a candidate who knows the law, knows the limits of his authority, and simply wants headlines. And maybe that’s all it is. If so, it’s still dangerous, but it’s at least understandable in a world where political stunts drive media cycles. But if it isn’t just grandstanding, if Mamdani truly believes what he’s saying, then we have a bigger problem. A much bigger one. Because what he’s proposing isn’t just unlawful. It reflects a deeper ideological impulse to ignore American law in favor of a preferred, foreign set of rules. And that mindset, if taken seriously, opens the door to even more extreme applications. If Mamdani believes the ICC has authority in New York City, despite U.S. law saying otherwise, then what’s to stop him from similarly asserting the validity of other non-U.S. legal systems? Systems like Sharia law.

That concern isn’t hypothetical. Nor is it Islamophobic. It’s a concern for the authority of the Constitution and the rights that it protects, particularly those of women. In December, The London Times reported that the UK has effectively become the “Western capital” of informal Sharia courts - parallel justice systems operating under religious, not civil, authority. These courts have been used to resolve marriages, divorces, and custody disputes, often to the detriment of women, and without any formal legal recognition. They exist because certain ideological actors believe that their own traditions should trump the law of the land. And they thrive when political leaders look the other way, or worse, actively sympathize.

Mamdani’s pledge to enforce an unenforceable ICC arrest warrant falls squarely into that category. It’s not just illegal; it’s an act of ideological substitution. He wants to replace U.S. legal authority with international rules that reflect his worldview. That is exactly how Sharia creep began in the UK: first in symbolic gestures, then in “community arbitration,” and finally in the de facto displacement of state law.

To be clear, the problem isn’t just the content of Sharia law, though there are disturbing aspects to it, particularly regarding women’s rights and criminal justice. The problem is the impulse itself: the belief that American law is optional, and that preferred external systems can be imposed in its place. Mamdani’s ICC fixation is not a stand-alone moment. It’s a signal of how far someone is willing to go to enforce what they believe, even if it means trampling the Constitution to do it.

Under American law, put simply, Mamdani has no right to arrest Netanyahu. The United States is not party to the Rome Statute – the law that established the International Criminal Court. ICC warrants have no legal force here in America. None. And Gaza is clearly beyond the jurisdiction of the NYPD. There is simply no legal mechanism that would allow New York City to arrest Benjamin Netanyahu for crimes allegedly committed in the Middle East.

Additionally, a head of state like Netanyahu is immune from prosecution under customary international law. He would also almost certainly be designated a protected foreign official under 22 U.S.C. § 254d - particularly during a U.N. appearance - prohibiting his arrest or legal process while in the U.S.

Arresting a foreign leader under these circumstances would likely violate, 18 U.S.C. §1201 (federal kidnapping), 18 U.S.C. § 242 (Deprivation of Rights Under Color of Law); 18 U.S.C. § 241 (Conspiracy Against Rights); 18 U.S.C. §112 (Protection of Foreign Officials), and potentially the Logan Act, which bars unauthorized interference with U.S. foreign relations. These last two statutes exist precisely to prevent rogue actors (local or otherwise) from hijacking U.S. foreign policy. These are all very serious crimes.

Mamdani appears to understand that what he’s proposing is illegal. He’s compared his plan to Gavin Newsom’s 2004 defiance of California marriage laws, a symbolic stand with no legal foundation. That comparison probably gives the game away. It’s likely just ill-advised campaign rhetoric.

But there’s still a real risk that he means it. And if Mamdani ever attempts to act on this pledge and directs the NYPD to detain a foreign head of state, the Commissioner should refuse the unlawful order, and the Justice Department should immediately intervene. Federal agents should arrest Mamdani along with anyone involved in the conspiracy, swiftly, discreetly, and without turning it into a spectacle. The United States cannot permit rogue politicians to undermine our systems of justice, criminal or civil, by imposing their own preferred model. If he goes through with his pledge, the federal government must make an example of him.

This entire episode is a gift to every skeptic of the International Criminal Court. It confirms what critics have warned all along: that it can be hijacked by ideologues to pursue their political ambitions or beliefs. And whether Mamdani’s pledge is a stunt or a sincere threat, the message is the same: this candidate will promote lawlessness to reach his voters.

This case started in 2017, when an FBI SWAT team broke into the wrong house. A flashbang grenade went off. Guns were drawn. A woman, her partner, and her young son were terrified. The officers apologized and left. The family was left with a damaged home and no real explanation. The team had relied on a personal GPS and misread the street. The actual suspect lived a block away.

The family sued the federal government under the Federal Tort Claims Act, the law that allows people to sue the United States for certain kinds of harm caused by federal employees. They claimed assault, false arrest, emotional trauma, and negligence. But the lower courts in Georgia threw the case out, applying a rule from the Eleventh Circuit that gave the federal government a unique kind of constitutional immunity using the Supremacy Clause. The rule said if a federal officer’s actions had a connection to federal law enforcement duties, the government could not be sued, even if things went terribly wrong.

The Supreme Court disagreed. The justices ruled that the Constitution’s Supremacy Clause does not give federal officers a special shield in cases like this. Congress already laid out the rules in the FTCA. It allows lawsuits if a private person would be liable under state law. The Court said that’s the standard, and the Supremacy Clause immunity defense is legally inapplicable.

So federal officers cannot use the Supremacy Clause to block lawsuits in wrong-house raids or similar cases. That defense is off the table, not just in the Eleventh Circuit, but everywhere.

But the ruling doesn’t mean officers are suddenly exposed to lawsuits every time a decision turns out badly. The Court also confirmed that the FTCA still includes what’s called the discretionary-function exception. That part of the law protects federal officers from being sued when they make reasonable, judgment-based decisions, especially in situations involving planning, tactics, or the exercise of professional discretion. That protection still applies and will now be reviewed in this case.

This wasn’t a sweeping change. In fact, outside of the Eleventh Circuit, no other court had ever used the Supremacy Clause the way Georgia, Florida, and Alabama did. Yesterday’s ruling simply shut that door for good. But for federal officers, the discretionary-function exception remains open and intact. So does the longstanding requirement that plaintiffs prove liability under state tort law.

The case now goes back to the Eleventh Circuit. That court will decide which of the family’s claims can move forward. The negligence claim may run into the discretionary-function bar so the officers will probably not be held responsible for a reasonable mistake. But if they committed intentional torts, like assault or false imprisonment, those claims might get a closer look.

For federal officers, the message is clear: the law doesn’t protect everything, but it still protects reasonable decision-making. What it won’t cover anymore, at least in any federal court, is the idea that constitutional authority alone can cancel out responsibility. But outside of the Eleventh Circuit, it never really did.

This is not a major loss for law enforcement. It appears the officers in this case made a mistake, but if the evidence shows they didn’t commit any intentional bad conduct, the discretion afforded officers should protect them.

The decision appears to be a reasonable balance between keeping professional discretion protected and keeping courts focused on what the law actually says.

At the center of the case is a 2023 Texas law that requires porn sites to verify the age of every user using government-issued ID, or some other method, almost all of which will require self-identification in some manner.

Everyone involved agrees that states have a compelling reason to protect kids from sexually explicit content. Even the porn industry agrees on that, or so they say. The real fight is about how far the government can go to do so. And particularly whether the government can protect kids in a way that impedes the right of adults to view the material.

The Court’s technical job is to decide what level of Constitutional scrutiny applies to laws like this. If Texas’s law gets the strict scrutiny treatment, the highest level, the state has to effectively prove there is no other way to protect the kids. If it gets rational basis, the lowest level of scrutiny, it just needs to show the law is a reasonable way to address the issue. The difference could determine whether the law, and perhaps the porn industry, stands or falls.

Texas wants rational basis. The porn industry says this is a classic content-based restriction and deserves strict scrutiny, just like the Court applied in Ashcroft v. ACLU and United States v. Playboy Entertainment Group. Back then, the Court rejected age-verification laws that burdened adults’ rights in the name of protecting kids, pointing instead to parental content filters.

But 2004 was a long time ago. As Justice Amy Coney Barrett pointed out during oral argument, technology has exploded since then with iPhones, gaming consoles, and endless apps. Today’s kids are often more tech-savvy than their parents. Filtering isn’t cutting it anymore, she said. Justice Alito agreed: “Come on, be real,” he told the porn industry’s lawyer. “There’s a huge volume of evidence that filtering doesn’t work.”

Justice Sotomayor, meanwhile, was focused on the legal framework. She reminded everyone that burdening adult access to legal speech means strict scrutiny. “For us to apply anything else,” she said, “would be overturning at least five precedents.”

What’s at stake isn’t just one law. It could be the future of the American porn industry. For years, it’s operated in a legal gray zone online, unregulated, globally hosted, and instantly accessible. But this case could flip the switch. If Texas wins, expect a flood of similar laws, both state and federal. Age verification could become the norm, and the U.S. adult content market could deteriorate fast.

Already, Pornhub has withdrew from Texas. The site literally went dark in the state rather than comply. If more states follow, American-based porn platforms could collapse under the cost and privacy risks of mandatory ID checks. And while users will certainly find workarounds - VPNs, offshore sites, encrypted apps - the days of anonymous universal access could be numbered.

Meyer Lansky, the mob accountant who understood markets better than most politicians, famously said: “People will always pay for sex, booze, and funerals. That’s why we get into those businesses.” The porn industry has long operated on that logic, spending years rebranding itself as mainstream entertainment. But the truth is messier. Organized crime helped build the industry, and its fingerprints remain. Many performers work in murky conditions where the line between consent and coercion blurs. Drugs are common. And the specter of human trafficking still looms large.

If the Court upholds laws like Texas’s, it won’t end porn, it’ll drive it further underground. Hidden. Unregulated. Black market. In trying to sanitize the space, the Court may make it darker, riskier, and harder to monitor. Porn won’t vanish. It will just mutate.

And here’s the kicker: the law and its precedents give the Court room to do almost anything here. Strict scrutiny, rational basis, even intermediate scrutiny, each is plausible, depending on how the Justices frame the issue. Stare decisis? They could follow past rulings, distinguish them, or just overturn them based on the dramatic changes in technology. What’s likely really happening here is that the Court is deciding whether it wants to be the final arbiter of pornography in America. Because no one’s buying smut in seedy bookstores anymore. If the Court greenlights ID requirements for online access, it won’t just tweak the system. It could destroy the current model entirely.

At stake is the constitutionality of the Promoting Security and Justice for Victims of Terrorism Act (PSJVTA), a 2019 law designed to hold the Palestinian Authority (PA) and the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) financially accountable for terror attacks that maimed or killed Americans in Israel. The law creates a kind of legal trigger: if the PLO or PA engage in certain conduct, like paying the families of convicted terrorists or conducting activities in the U.S., they are “deemed to have consented” to the jurisdiction of American courts.

The families of terror victims, including Miriam Fuld, the widow of Ari Fuld, an American stabbed to death outside a West Bank shopping mall, argue the statute is a necessary tool to deter future violence and deliver long-delayed justice. The Second Circuit struck the law down, ruling that Congress can’t declare a defendant has “consented” to U.S. jurisdiction unless that defendant received a “reciprocal benefit.” In other words, Congress can’t just say you’re subject to U.S. courts because you mailed a check or showed up in New York; there has to be a fair exchange to constitute “consent.”

The stakes are immense, not just for terror victims, but for the scope of U.S. power in an increasingly dangerous world. The PSJVTA is about more than compensation. It’s a signal that America won’t let its citizens be murdered abroad without consequence. A ruling striking it down would signal something else: that the courts, not Congress, get the final word on how jurisdiction is defined, and in this case, how U.S. foreign policy is enforced.

That tension was on full display during oral argument. The justices probed whether the “minimum contacts” test, a standard developed under the Fourteenth Amendment to limit state overreach, should apply to the federal government acting under the Fifth Amendment.

The broader context here matters. This isn’t the only front where the Justices are being asked to referee the boundaries of presidential and congressional power over foreign affairs. Immigration, tariffs, and even military funding are in legal limbo. This term or next, the Court will likely be asked whether the President can unilaterally reshape asylum policy, or impose sweeping tariffs in the name of national security. Fuld offers a preview of how the Court may handle those questions.

If the Court affirms the Second Circuit, it risks boxing in Congress at the precise moment when flexibility is most needed. Terror networks don’t observe borders. Justice doesn’t travel easily. And Congress, acting under its foreign affairs and national security powers, tailored the PSJVTA to give victims a chance at both.

If the Court reverses, it will reaffirm a long-standing principle: Congress sets the rules of engagement when the battlefield stretches across continents. As the Petitioners point out, the Founding generation understood that foreign threats require national, not state-level, solutions, and that the Fifth Amendment was never intended to tie Congress’s hands abroad the way the Fourteenth limits states at home.

Either way, Fuld v. PLO may soon be remembered not as a terrorism case, but as a constitutional watershed. It asks whether Congress can chart the course of American justice abroad, or whether due process now means letting terror financiers off the hook, so long as they keep their business across the ocean.

In Kousisis v. United States, the Court held that misrepresentations used to induce a financial transaction can still be the basis for a criminal fraud conviction, even when the government suffers no economic loss. That seems remarkable. It means that intent to deceive alone, even without an intent to deprive anyone of any money or services, may be enough for prison time. Think about job applications and resumes.

At the heart of the case were two painting contracts awarded to Alpha Painting and Construction Co. by the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation (PennDOT). As required under federal regulations, Alpha pledged that it would use a certified minority-owned business, Markias Inc., to supply materials. That was a lie. Markias was a pass-through; the real work was done by others. Alpha made over $20 million on the jobs, and PennDOT got the work it wanted. Still, the government charged Alpha’s manager, Stamatios Kousisis, with wire fraud under 18 U.S.C. §1343, arguing that he obtained money through false pretenses. A jury agreed. The question before the Court was whether fraud without financial injury could still be prosecuted as a crime.

The Court, in a 7–2 decision by Justice Barrett, said yes. Fraud, they held, is about wrongful acquisition, not just economic harm. Deception-induced transactions violate the statute even when the deceived party gets what it paid for. “Fraudulent inducement has long been considered a species of actionable fraud,” Barrett wrote. Even if the government received full value, what mattered was that it was tricked into the contract in the first place.

The majority contends that the ruling aligns with historical tort doctrine: at common law, courts often allowed rescission of contracts based on fraud, even without monetary loss. And, as Barrett noted, the wire fraud statute never says anything about economic loss, it simply requires a scheme to obtain money or property through deceit.

Justice Gorsuch wasn’t so sure. While concurring that this particular defendant should be held accountable, he warned that untethering fraud from financial injury risks turning the statute into “a weapon for punishing victimless crimes.” That warning may not have been aimed at anyone in particular, but it certainly echoes arguments raised in former President Donald Trump’s civil fraud trial in New York.

In that case, Trump was accused of fraudulently inflating the value of his assets to secure favorable loan terms. Like Alpha Painting, he argued there were no victims: the banks got repaid, the deals worked, and no money was lost. And yet, a court found Trump liable anyway.

The parallel is striking. Both cases hinge on the premise that fraud can occur even when there’s no financial harm. In both, the defense pointed to the absence of injury; and in both, the courts said that didn’t matter.

But Kousisis may prove even more consequential, not for what it decided, but for what it didn’t. Justice Thomas, like Gorsuch agreed with the outcome in this case, but did not agree with all aspects of the reasoning. Specifically Justice Thomas took aim at the materiality of the misrepresentation – i.e. was the falsehood significant enough for the public to care about? In his view, it was questionable whether failing to use a “disadvantaged” business actually mattered to the core of the contract. After all, the work was completed and done well. Thomas went further, casting doubt on whether the federal affirmative action program at issue here was even Constitutional; indicating that a contract term that requires unconstitutional conduct may make the term immaterial. In essence he argues that that it would be perverse to convict a person for not engaging in unconstitutional conduct. This may foreshadow future challenges to minority contracting requirements.

Yet materiality was never contested at trial in this case, so the majority of the Court dodged it. That omission leaves defense lawyers a playbook going forward: argue that the lie was immaterial. It’s a subtle but important shift. Prosecutors may now lean on fraudulent inducement to charge conduct that would have once been considered effectively inconsequential. And with a politicized prosecutor’s office that could be a real problem. But if the defense can show that the misrepresentation didn’t go to the “essence of the bargain,” they may still prevail.

Still, the big takeaway is this: The Supreme Court just confirmed that you can commit criminal fraud without cheating anyone out of a dime.

The plaintiffs, Venezuelan migrants, asked a federal judge for an emergency order to halt their removal. The judge gave the Trump administration 24 hours to respond. Not wanting to wait, the migrants bypassed the judge and went directly to the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, which quickly dismissed their case. They then appealed to the Supreme Court, which not only agreed to hear it—but went even further.

In a 7–2 ruling, the Supreme Court granted the Venezuelans’ request for an emergency injunction. Normally, before a party can appeal a ruling, there has to be a ruling. Here, the District Court had not yet decided whether to issue the injunction, so there was technically nothing to appeal. That’s when the Supreme Court squinted a bit.

To get the outcome they wanted, the seven Justices treated the 24-hour response window the District Court had given the governement as a “constructive denial” of the Venezuelan’s request. Referencing the Abrego Garcia case from March where the President was criticized by some for whisking illegal aliens out of the country before a court order took effect, the Supreme Court here reasoned that giving the government 24 hours to respond allowed the administration enough time to try to do that again. (Previous thoughts on Abrego Garcia below)

So, the court decided to view the District Court’s 24 hour window as an actual ruling in favor of Trump – thereby allowing them to decide the appeal. The Court then gave the Venezuelans what they wanted and issued the injunction.

While the “constructive denial” doctrine is not entirely unprecedented, applying it to a mere 24-hour delay - especially after the administration assured the Court that no one would be deported in that time - was, at minimum, aggressive judging. But the Court didn’t stop there. It went on to treat the case as something more than the narrow request for a temporary injunction, which usually just garners an up or down vote on the one limited issue presented. The Court instead, without prompting from Plaintiffs’ attorneys’, gave the lower court specific instructions on how to reach a final decision. Then most astonishingly, the Court granted the Tren de Aragua members a direct path back to the Supreme Court for review of the final decision, bypassing normal procedures. Whatever the final decision is on the merits of this case, it is undeniable that the Supreme Court has abandoned normal procedure for this case.

Justice Alito, in dissent, noted the overreach:

The Court’s opinion ventures far beyond the question presented. It interprets a District Court’s silence as a refusal to act, overturns an appellate decision, and then remands the case with detailed instructions—without full briefing, a hearing, or a developed record.

And further:

The Court also purports to bless a path back to this Court that bypasses the traditional certiorari process. This kind of pre-commitment is both procedurally improper and institutionally reckless.

The Supreme Court’s decision in A.A.R.P. v. Trump is troubling on its own. But it becomes even more so when contrasted with a decision issued just one day earlier, in Barnes v. Felix. In Barnes, the Court declined to address a pressing national issue involving police use-of-force standards, despite its obvious importance. Instead, it chose procedural restraint over clarity, leaving law enforcement exposed. (Full analysis of Barnes case here)

So while American police officers remain in legal limbo, denied clarity (and safety) due to the Court’s restraint, the very next day in A.A.R.P. v. Trump, the Court stretched far beyond the limits of the appeal, creating what amounts to an unprecedented fast-track appeal process for the alleged Venezuelan terrorists. Justice Alito even warned that the majority may have already “silently decided” issues beyond the narrow injunction, calling that “doubly extraordinary.” In short, American police got judicial restraint. Suspected gang members got judicial activism. Two cases. One Court. Why the double standard?

At its core, the A.A.R.P. decision feels less like a principled ruling and more like institutional muscle-flexing - a turf war between the judiciary and the executive. On its face the decision is just the Court resisting an executive action it sees as infringing on a sacred value: the right to be heard. Fair enough. By why such an overreach?

Let’s be clear: this case isn’t about a U.S. citizen being denied fundamental justice or a landmark due process ruling with sweeping national implications. It’s a narrow immigration dispute involving a handful of suspected terrorists trying to delay deportation by a few days. Yes, they should have a chance to prove they’ve been misidentified or the like, but most of them can’t claim that (and won’t). For the vast majority of them, this is simply about buying a few extra days to sit in U.S. detention. And let’s be honest: this litigation isn’t being driven by the migrants at all. It’s being driven by their lawyers, for ideological or political reasons. The real question is this: why did the Court feel compelled to take what is fairly characterized as aggressive steps to help suspected terrorists stay in the country a few more days, while just one day earlier, it refused to offer even minimal guidance for the good guys on an issue putting them in danger?

Is it possible that seven Justices genuinely believe the Trump administration’s approach to Tren De Aragua in this particular case signals a sweeping threat to civil liberties on a broader basis? Maybe. Let’s hope it’s not simply that the President has rattled the Court’s institutional power base - or that the Justices were swept up in the media-fueled “constitutional crisis” narratives or swayed by pressure from self-absorbed and fervent legal activists. (Justice Alito did note the plaintiffs’ attorneys’ “stark departure” from “acceptable practice.”) Let’s also hope this isn’t about the Court positioning itself to be “on the right side of history.” Whatever the motive, let’s at least hope the Court’s opinion reflects a sincere effort to apply the law fairly and equally to keep everyone safe. But that’s far from clear.

Now flip it. A man is sitting in his car, minding his own business. An unmarked vehicle pulls up. Two plainclothes officers jump out with guns drawn but don’t identify themselves as police. One of them stands in front of the car. Thinking he’s being carjacked, the driver panics and hits the gas. The officer in front of the car shoots through the windshield and kills the driver. Justified?

Hypotheticals of these sort were analyzed during oral arguments in Barnes v. Felix, a Supreme Court case that had the potential to better define the rights and responsibilities of police officers in deadly shootings. In a decision issued Thursday however, the Supreme Court largely punted, leaving the law unsettled.

The Court agreed to hear the case to answer a fairly straightforward question: Should courts judge a police officer’s use of deadly force based only on the “moment of threat,” those final seconds before the officer fires? Or should they consider everything that led up to the confrontation?

The facts of Barnes v. Felix are not complicated. Officer Roberto Felix pulled over Ashtian Barnes near Houston, Texas, for toll violations. Felix smelled marijuana in the car, and as he questioned Barnes, the driver suddenly attempted to flee. Officer Felix jumped onto the side of the vehicle and, within seconds, fired two shots, killing Barnes.

It was later discovered that Barnes had an illegal handgun in the car. A grand jury declined to indict Officer Felix, but the Barnes family sued in federal court.

The lower court, and later the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, sided with Officer Felix, applying the narrow “moment of threat” rule. They focused solely on those final seconds, deciding Felix could have reasonably believed he was in real danger while hanging onto the side of the car. But on Thursday, the Supreme Court unanimously said that wasn’t good enough. Writing for the Court, Justice Elena Kagan ruled that the “moment of threat” test was too limited. Courts must look at the “totality of the circumstances,” including events leading up to the shooting, not just the final seconds. The Court tossed out the Fifth Circuit’s decision and sent the case back for reconsideration under that broader standard.

Here’s the twist: the Court avoided the more controversial issue that’s divided lower courts, the concept of “officer-created danger.” That’s the theory that if an officer’s own actions recklessly create a dangerous situation, they may forfeit the right to use deadly force, even if they later face a real threat. The Ninth and Tenth Circuits have embraced this theory. Other circuits have not. That split remains unresolved. At oral argument, this was clearly what Officer Felix’s lawyers were most concerned about. Felix’s attorney essentially conceded that “totality of the circumstances” was the proper standard but urged the Court to reject the “officer-created danger” doctrine. The Court declined to do so, instead leaving that question, arguably the most consequential, for another day.

Now the case returns to the lower courts, where Barnes’ attorneys will likely argue that Officer Felix created the danger by jumping onto the car and therefore forfeited his right to use deadly force. While it seems unlikely that the Fifth Circuit will adopt this theory, the question remains open. Still, even if the court did adopt that standard, Felix likely didn’t violate it. He jumped on the car to stop a fleeing suspect, which he was allowed to do. He then fired when he reasonably feared for his life, which was also permitted. In any case, Felix himself is almost certainly not in real legal jeopardy as he is likely shielded by qualified immunity and would almost certainly be indemnified by the county.

The real danger, however, isn’t to Officer Felix, it’s to police across the country, especially in the Ninth and Tenth Circuits. The “officer-created danger” rule still stands, leaving law enforcement in legal limbo. Scores of police organizations warned the Supreme Court that keeping this rule alive would lead courts to second-guess officers’ split-second decisions to use deadly force, making the job more dangerous and more difficult. It will make them, literally, gun-shy. And now, that’s exactly where things stand.

Ashtian Barnes did not need to die, and yes, we can imagine rare situations where an officer creates the risk that leads to a shooting. But this case does not appear to be one of them. Far more definitive a threat is the continued whittling away of the authority we’ve entrusted to law enforcement. Allowing courts to retroactively strip a police officer of the right to use deadly force because of an earlier mistake does not promote public safety. The Supreme Court should have eliminated the rule.