Crime and Punishment

The Trump administration has finally clarified its theory of law and order.

Touch a loose flap of paint in the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool? Potentially ten years in prison.

Storm the U.S. Capitol, assault police officers, smash windows, force lawmakers into hiding, and attempt to overturn a presidential election? Here’s a pardon. And perhaps, if things had gone according to plan, a chance to apply for compensation from the administration’s controversial $1.776 billion “Anti-Weaponization Fund.”

The contrast would be hilarious if it weren’t so revealing.

After Trump’s $14 million “American Flag Blue” renovation of the Reflecting Pool turned green with algae and began shedding paint almost immediately, the president declared war on imaginary vandals. National Guard troops appeared at the site. Surveillance cameras were deployed. Federal prosecutors promised aggressive enforcement. Trump warned that offenders could face up to ten years in prison for damaging federal property. Among those swept up in the crackdown was a former Olympic canoeist whose alleged crime appears to have involved touching a piece of material that was already peeling away from the bottom of the pool.

Meanwhile, many January 6 defendants received something quite different: presidential pardons. Some have since explored avenues for government compensation. Earlier this year, the administration announced a $1.776 billion Anti-Weaponization Fund intended to compensate people who claimed they had been victimized by government “lawfare.” Reports indicated that January 6 defendants and Trump allies were among those interested in seeking payouts before the fund ran into legal and political backlash.

Think about the message being sent. One group entered the Capitol during one of the darkest days in modern American democracy. The other group allegedly touched some paint. One group received mercy, and even praise. The other gets Jeanine Pirro.

In Trump’s America, the severity of the punishment appears inversely proportional to the embarrassment caused to Donald Trump personally. If you vandalize the Capitol while supporting him, you’re a patriot. If you expose the failure of a vanity project by poking a loose piece of liner in a reflecting pool, you’re apparently a threat to civilization itself.

The Reflecting Pool has become a perfect metaphor for the administration. A rushed, expensive project begins falling apart. The problems are obvious to everyone. Responsibility is denied. Blame is shifted. Law enforcement is mobilized. Political enemies are accused. And somehow the people pointing at the peeling paint become the villains while the people who created the mess become the victims.

There may be no better illustration of modern Trumpian American politics than this: the administration that pardoned January 6 rioters is now threatening decade-long prison sentences over a malfunctioning decorative pond.

The Capitol, apparently, was forgivable. The paint is where they draw the line.