A Revised Trump Indictment Tries To Overcome the 'Presumption' of Presidential Immunity
In charging the former president with illegal election interference, Special Counsel Jack Smith emphasizes the defendant's personal motivation and private means.
When the Supreme Court endorsed broad presidential immunity from criminal charges last month, it raised troubling questions about whether and how former occupants of the White House can be held accountable for abusing their powers. In an initial attempt to answer those questions, Special Counsel Jack Smith this week unveiled a superseding indictment in the federal election interference case against former President Donald Trump—the same case that prompted the Court's ruling.
The viability of United States v. Trump is unclear at this point. The Supreme Court charged U.S. District Judge Tanya Chutkan with reviewing the charges against Trump in light of its ruling, and any decisions she makes will be subject to appeal. There is no chance that the case will go to trial before this year's presidential election, and if Trump wins, we can be sure he will find a way to make it disappear. Smith's revisions nevertheless suggest what it might take to successfully prosecute a former president despite the obstacles that the Supreme Court has erected.
The most notable change from the original indictment is the excision of any reference to Trump's interactions with the Department of Justice (DOJ). The government initially portrayed those conversations, in which Trump pressured DOJ officials to investigate his baseless claims of systematic election fraud, as part of a criminal scheme to overturn President Joe Biden's victory. But the Supreme Court explicitly ruled out criminal liability based on such contacts.
Trump was exercising his "conclusive and preclusive" authority as president when he urged the DOJ to validate his stolen-election fantasy, Chief Justice John Roberts wrote in the majority opinion. The executive branch has "'exclusive authority and absolute discretion' to decide which crimes to investigate and prosecute," he wrote, "including with respect to allegations of election crime."
As Justice Sonya Sotomayor noted in a dissent joined by Justices Elena Kagan and Ketanji Brown Jackson, that holding seems to give presidents a lot of leeway to wield the federal government's daunting prosecutorial powers against their political or personal enemies. Under the majority's "view of core powers," she said, "even fabricating evidence and insisting the [Justice] Department use it in a criminal case could be covered."
Sotomayor also noted other possible implications of the majority's position. When a president "uses his official powers in any way, under the majority's reasoning, he now will be insulated from criminal prosecution," she warned. "Orders the Navy's Seal Team 6 to assassinate a political rival? Immune. Organizes a military coup to hold onto power? Immune. Takes a bribe in exchange for a pardon? Immune. Immune, immune, immune."
Roberts faulted Sotomayor for "fear mongering on the basis of extreme hypotheticals." But we do not need imaginary scenarios to understand the perils of assuring presidents that they need not worry about the threat of criminal prosecution as long as they are exercising their "core powers."
The proposed articles of impeachment against Richard Nixon alleged, among other things, that he made "false or misleading statements to lawfully authorized investigative officers and employees of the United States" and that he interfered with "the conduct of investigations by the Department of Justice of the United States, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, [and] the office of Watergate Special Prosecution Force." The issue of whether Nixon could have faced criminal charges based on those allegations was never litigated, because he resigned before he could be impeached, and his successor, Gerald Ford, granted him a pardon that covered any federal offenses he might have committed in office. But according to the Supreme Court's reasoning in Trump v. United States, Nixon's corrupt interactions with the DOJ would have been off limits for federal prosecutors.
Beyond that specific instruction, the Court was hazy about the extent of presidential immunity. "We conclude that under our constitutional structure of separated powers, the nature of Presidential power requires that a former President have some immunity from criminal prosecution for official acts during his tenure in office," Roberts wrote. "At least with respect to the President's exercise of his core constitutional powers, this immunity must be absolute. As for his remaining official actions, he is also entitled to immunity. At the current stage of proceedings in this case, however, we need not and do not decide whether that immunity must be absolute, or instead whether a presumptive immunity is sufficient."
What about Trump's interactions with Vice President Mike Pence? Trump persistently pressured Pence, in private and in public, to intervene on his behalf during the congressional ratification of the election results by rejecting electoral votes for Biden. Citing the "contingent" electors that his campaign had recruited in several battleground states, Trump urged Pence to send both sets of slates "back to the states" so that legislators could resolve a nonexistent controversy about the actual results. Pence repeatedly resisted, saying he had no authority to do what Trump asked.
The original indictment portrayed those interactions as a key part of a criminal conspiracy to change the outcome of the election. That aspect of the indictment presented "difficult questions," according to the Supreme Court. "Whenever the President and Vice President discuss their official responsibilities, they engage in official conduct," Roberts wrote. "Presiding over the January 6 certification proceeding at which Members of Congress count the electoral votes is a constitutional and statutory duty of the Vice President. The indictment's allegations that Trump attempted to pressure the Vice President to take particular acts in connection with his role at the certification proceeding thus involve official conduct, and Trump is at least presumptively immune from prosecution for such conduct."
The question, Roberts said, is "whether that presumption of immunity is rebutted under the circumstances." He noted that the vice president is acting "in his capacity as President of the Senate," part of the legislative branch, when he oversees the electoral vote count. The government therefore "may argue that consideration of the President's communications with the Vice President concerning the certification proceeding does not pose 'dangers of intrusion on the authority and functions of the Executive Branch.'"
Would that argument be correct? Maybe not, Roberts suggested: "The President may frequently rely on the Vice President in his capacity as President of the Senate to advance the President's agenda in Congress. When the Senate is closely divided, for instance, the Vice President's tiebreaking vote may be crucial for confirming the President's nominees and passing laws that align with the President's policies. Applying a criminal prohibition to the President's conversations discussing such matters with the Vice President—even though they concern his role as President of the Senate—may well hinder the President's ability to perform his constitutional functions. It is ultimately the Government's burden to rebut the presumption of immunity."
The new indictment tries to do that in several ways. It notes that Pence was Trump's "own running mate," meaning the intervention that Trump demanded would personally benefit both of them. It adds that "all of the conversations between [Trump] and [Pence] described below focused on [Trump] maintaining power." The indictment points out that Trump "had no official responsibilities related to the certification proceeding, but he did have a personal interest as a candidate in being named the winner of the election." It later reiterates that Trump "had no official role" in the certification process.
The indictment also emphasizes the private character of other conduct that might be construed as "official acts." Regarding Trump's pressure on state officials to reverse Biden's victories, for example, the indictment notes that Trump "had no official responsibilities related to any state's certification of the election results." Discussing Trump's "fake electors" scheme, the indictment likewise notes that he "had no official responsibilities related to the convening of legitimate electors or their signing and mailing of their certificates of vote."
Like the original indictment, the revised version describes the notorious telephone conversation in which Trump leaned on Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger to "find" the votes necessary to reverse the election outcome in that state. But the indictment makes a point of noting that the participants in that call included "private attorneys" and White House Chief of Staff Mark Meadows, who "sometimes handled private and Campaign-related logistics" for Trump.
The indictment still relies on Trump's social media posts to make the case that he pushed a phony grievance aimed at preventing Biden from taking office. But it argues that such communications should not be viewed as "official acts."
Although Trump "sometimes used his Twitter account to communicate with the public, as President, about official actions and policies," the indictment says, "he also regularly used it for personal purposes—including to spread knowingly false claims of election fraud, exhort his supporters to travel to Washington, D.C. on January 6, pressure the Vice President to misuse his ceremonial role in the certification proceeding, and leverage the events at the Capitol on January 6 to unlawfully retain power." And when Trump riled up his supporters that day, stoking their outrage at the prospect that Congress was about to recognize Biden's supposedly fraudulent victory, he was speaking at "a privately-funded, privately-organized political rally."
The indictment lists five alleged co-conspirators, "none of whom were government officials during the conspiracies and all of whom were acting in a private capacity." It describes four as "private attorney[s]" and one as "a private political consultant."
You get the idea. Smith's general approach is apparent in the opening paragraph of the indictment, which describes Trump as "a candidate for President of the United States in 2020." By contrast, the original indictment described him as "the forty-fifth President of the United States and a candidate for re-election in 2020," which Smith evidently thought sounded too "official."
In substance, the indictment remains essentially the same. Trump is still charged with four felonies: conspiracy to defraud the United States, conspiracy to obstruct an official proceeding, obstruction of an official proceeding, and conspiracy to deprive Americans of their voting rights.
Those two obstruction charges could prove problematic. In June, the Supreme Court ruled that an alleged Capitol rioter could not be charged with obstructing an official proceeding by interfering with the electoral vote tally. Writing for the majority, Roberts said proving that the offense requires "establish[ing] that the defendant impaired the availability or integrity for use in an official proceeding of records, documents, objects," or "other things used in the proceeding, or attempted to do so."
After that decision, University of Richmond law professor Riley Keenan noted that Trump's lawyers were sure to cite it in seeking dismissal of the similar charges against him. But Keenan suggested that they "may not succeed," because "the obstruction charge against him is based in part on the allegation that he organized slates of electors to certify false election results to Congress," which "may amount to impairing the integrity of the evidence used in the certification proceedings."
Either way, the gist of the case is that Trump illegally sought to remain in office after he lost the 2020 election, and Smith cites two other statutes to support that argument. If Trump loses again this year and the case proceeds, it will help elucidate the limits that the Supreme Court has imposed on criminal charges against former presidents.
Assuming that prosecutors can avoid or overcome the presumption of immunity by emphasizing the defendant's personal motivation and/or private means, it may still be possible to hold former presidents accountable for crimes they committed in office even when they manage to avoid impeachment and removal for political or practical reasons (as Nixon and Trump both did). But if the Supreme Court ultimately concludes that saying "private" and "personal" a lot does not cut it, or if it decides that absolute immunity is the only way to adequately protect presidential prerogatives even when "core powers" are not implicated, it will create the sort of impunity that rightly worries Sotomayor.
