The End of the Trump Prosecutions

Four criminal cases. One sentencing. A whole lot of justice denied.

Donald Trump during his hush-money trial in Manhattan in May 2024. (Photo by Justin Lane / Pool / AFP via Getty Images)

AS DONALD TRUMP’S RETURN TO THE PRESIDENCY draws near, all four criminal cases against him are going out not with a bang but with a whimper.

The federal case relating to Trump’s mishandling of classified documents was stuck in an appeals court after the trial judge, Aileen Cannon, tossed it out last summer on specious grounds. The other federal case, arising from the 2020 election aftermath and January 6th, had been slowed to a halt by various procedural motions. But after Trump won November’s election, Special Counsel Jack Smith asked the courts to dismiss both cases. Smith last week submitted his required final report on the cases, and while it remains unclear whether the report will be published, Smith’s work is done, and he has quietly resigned from the Department of Justice. [Update: The first volume of Smith’s report, covering the 2020 election investigation, was published early on the morning on January 14, 2025.]

The Georgia prosecution of Trump for his actions following the 2020 election, which never moved at more than a snail’s pace, came to a standstill last year when Trump’s co-defendants challenged the participation in the case of Fulton County District Attorney Fani Willis because of a personal relationship she had had with a colleague. Last month, an appeals court removed Willis from the case, and unless her effort to appeal her removal succeeds, the case will probably be over. In theory, another prosecutor could be appointed, but given the fact that Trump will be the sitting president, it’s more likely to end here.

Only one of the four criminal cases against Trump ever reached the trial stage, the Manhattan hush-money case. It culminated on Friday, when New York Justice Juan Merchan sentenced Donald Trump to an “unconditional discharge” following the May 2024 jury verdict finding him guilty of 34 felony charges. Merchan called it the “only lawful sentence” available to protect “the office of the president . . . not the occupant of the office.” The ruling was tightrope-walking at its finest. Merchan held firmly to the jury verdict—a triumph given Trump’s unique ability to outmaneuver the rule of law—while also acknowledging that the defendant is days away from assuming the highest office of the land.

Since Merchan made public his plans to impose a slap on the wrist, there’s been a lot of chatter about how Trump got off “penalty-free.” But this saga’s finale did accomplish some things.

Given his track record of judicial wins, it’s kind of amazing that Trump did not evade sentencing altogether. His lawyers had argued in multiple courts—including in the U.S. Supreme Court—that a stay of sentencing was necessary in light of his presidential victory. They also argued that the verdict was tainted because evidence presented to the jury at trial included “official acts” under the criminal immunity test created in Trump v. U.S.

In a 5–4 ruling on Thursday, with Chief Justice John Roberts and Justice Amy Coney Barrett joining the progressives in the majority, the Court denied Trump’s application for a stay. Its brief order reasoned that he could raise his “official acts” arguments in his routine appeal of the conviction. (Now that the sentence has been handed down, the clock for that appeal is ticking.)

The Court also stated that “the burden that sentencing will impose on the President-Elect’s responsibilities is relatively insubstantial in light of the trial court’s stated intent to impose a sentence of ‘unconditional discharge’ after a brief virtual hearing.” This phrase is a doozy.

By signaling that he would not impose any meaningful sentence on Trump, Merchan dodged a Supreme Court stay. Recall that the immunity decision in Trump v. U.S. was premised in part on the notion that presidents need free rein to make hard decisions, unencumbered by the potential threat of criminal prosecution down the road, which could chill their ability to exercise the kind of discretion needed to be effective. Had Trump managed to delay sentencing until after January 20, his posture as a sitting president undoubtedly would have prompted a different outcome in the Supreme Court—meaning a stay of at least four years, after which it’s hard to imagine the Manhattan hush money case resuscitating in any meaningful way.

The brief order also stands as a teensy legal constraint on the scope of immunity ruling: We now know that presidents-elect don’t qualify. It’s better than nothing.

The unconditional discharge also means that, unless the conviction is reversed on appeal, Trump will live out his days with a 34-count felony record. (Presidents cannot pardon state or local crimes, so that won’t help him.) Although a handful of states ban convicted felons from voting, Trump’s places of residency—Florida and New York—are no longer among them, at least for the types of crimes on his record.

It’s true that a felony record can prevent individuals from entering certain countries and restrict their access to gun possession, and there’s no bar on employers requiring disclosure of felony convictions on a job application. But all this is, of course, beside the point for presidents—they don’t even undergo standard background checks for government security clearances. As for firearms possession, Trump will soon have control of federal law enforcement and the military at his fingertips.

There’s irony in this case being the only of the four criminal indictments of Trump to reach a verdict, as it was considered the weakest of the four, and even now some court-watchers continue to insist that Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg grossly overreached. It may be true, as the critics suggest, that the notion that lying during a campaign constitutes misconduct for which one should be held accountable seems downright quaint. This is just one of the many ways that Trump has distorted the rule of law and reshaped the foundational charter of American government. And he’s only getting started.