politics

Trump’s DOJ is trying to erase the convictions that proved January 6 was organized

Trump already pardoned or commuted the January 6 defendants he cared about. Now his Justice Department wants the record cleaned up too.

On Tuesday, Trump’s DOJ asked a federal appeals court to vacate the seditious conspiracy convictions of Proud Boys and Oath Keepers leaders and send the cases back so prosecutors can dismiss them with prejudice. That means for good. The motion, signed by U.S. Attorney Jeanine Pirro, says continuing these cases is “not in the interests of justice.” A pardon leaves the crime in the history books and forgives it anyway. Vacating the conviction goes further. It tries to make the crime disappear from the books.

I keep coming back to that difference. On Trump’s first day back in office, he commuted the sentences of 14 named January 6 defendants and issued a blanket pardon for everyone else convicted in the attack. That already told every future right wing thug that loyalty to Trump comes with an insurance policy. What the administration is doing now is even uglier. It is trying to erase the legal findings that some of the most important January 6 cases were not random crowd chaos. They were acts of organized political violence.

These were the cases that proved planning

The defendants in these appeals were not nobodies who wandered into the Capitol because the mob carried them along. AP reports the DOJ is trying to wipe away convictions for Oath Keepers founder Stewart Rhodes and Proud Boys leaders including Ethan Nordean, Joseph Biggs, and Zachary Rehl, along with others tied to those cases. Rhodes had been sentenced to 18 years after Judge Amit Mehta said he remained a danger to the country and to democracy itself. Kelly Meggs got 12 years. Nordean got 18 years. Biggs got 17. Rehl got 15. Enrique Tarrio, the Proud Boys chairman who had already received a full pardon rather than a commutation, got 22 years after a jury convicted him and three lieutenants of seditious conspiracy.

Those sentences existed because prosecutors did the work and juries believed it. In the Oath Keepers case, the government showed that Rhodes and his circle organized “quick reaction force” teams and stockpiled weapons at a Virginia hotel in case they decided to move guns into Washington. In the Proud Boys case, prosecutors showed jurors encrypted chats, coordination, and leadership decisions that helped drive the attack forward. AP reported that Tarrio, even from outside Washington, egged the operation on with messages like “Do what must be done,” then “Do it again,” and finally “We did this.”

That is why these convictions mattered so much. January 6 injured more than 100 police officers and grew into the largest investigation in Justice Department history, with more than 1,500 arrests and over 170 people accused of using deadly or dangerous weapons against police. But the deeper point of the seditious conspiracy cases was always that the violence had organizers. Trump and his movement have spent years trying to sell January 6 as an overexcited protest, a tourist visit, a “day of love,” anything except what it was. These verdicts were the factual rebuttal. They put into the court record that key parts of the attack were planned.

The strongest defense still collapses on contact with the evidence

The best defense argument goes like this: seditious conspiracy is an extreme charge, the government stretched it too far, and Trump was the real instigator anyway. You can hear pieces of that argument across the January 6 cases. Rhodes’ lawyers said there was no plan to storm the Capitol. Tarrio’s lawyer argued Trump’s words and Trump’s anger caused the attack, not Tarrio himself. Proud Boys and Oath Keepers defense teams leaned hard on the claim that prosecutors were turning swagger, bluster, and ugly rhetoric into a treason case. Trump being guilty does not make Rhodes and Tarrio innocent. It means the plot had both an instigator and field commanders.

That argument still lost in front of juries for a reason. These were not convictions built on vibes or guilt by association. They came after long trials, large evidence records, and detailed findings about who planned what. Rhodes was convicted after a nearly two month trial. Tarrio and the other Proud Boys defendants were convicted after more than three months of testimony. The evidence was not a single overheated speech. It was the accumulation of chats, operational roles, logistics, breach leadership, weapons staging, and defendant statements before, during, and after the attack.

You can think sedition charges should be used sparingly and still understand why these cases fit. In fact, that is part of what made them so important. The federal government had not been winning this kind of charge every other week. These convictions landed because prosecutors showed juries something more serious than ordinary riot behavior. They showed organized efforts to stop the transfer of power.

Jeanine Pirro is the tell

What gets me almost as much is who is signing these motions.

Pirro is not some neutral caretaker trying to tidy up loose ends. NPR noted that Trump installed Fox host Jeanine Pirro as interim U.S. attorney in Washington after dropping his earlier failed pick, and that Pirro had pushed false 2020 election fraud claims while acting as one of Trump’s loudest media loyalists. This is the person now telling a federal court that vacating these convictions serves justice.

Of course it serves Trump, which is the whole point.

The administration is not satisfied with mercy. Mercy still implies wrongdoing. Trump wants vindication for his foot soldiers and humiliation for everyone who investigated them. After the pardons and commutations came the language about January 6 defendants as “hostages” and the White House effort to recast the attack as persecution of patriots. Now comes the legal cleanup stage, where the government itself tries to pull the findings out of the record.

That is how authoritarian politics treats political violence committed on its own behalf. The people who attack democracy are recoded as victims. The prosecutors become the villains. The history itself gets edited until the next mob knows exactly what lesson to take: hold on long enough, get your side back in power, and the state will try to make your criminal record evaporate.

What this teaches the next group

That is the real danger here. Trump’s DOJ is telling every future militia freak, every street gang in a tactical vest, every wannabe coup tourist with a Telegram channel that the consequences are temporary.

Do a little time, wait for your boss to win the next election, then hope for a pardon or a friendly prosecutor who comes along later and asks a court to erase the conviction itself. That is the lesson.

And once that lesson settles in, every future election becomes more dangerous. Judge Mehta warned when he sentenced Rhodes that Americans may now “hold our collective breaths every time an election is approaching.” He was right then. He is even more right now.

A justice system captured by a would be strongman does not only protect the leader. It teaches his followers that violence in his service will look survivable. That is where this ends if people keep pretending these are just paperwork moves.

The paperwork is the point. Trump wants the country to forget that January 6 had planners, leaders, and men who treated stopping the peaceful transfer of power like an operational mission. These convictions proved otherwise. That is exactly why his Justice Department wants them gone before the next loyal mob takes notes.