Donald Trump has created a slush fund of nearly $2 billion in taxpayer money to hand out to his friends, according to a Guardian US column by Moira Donegan. The so-called 'Anti-Weaponization Fund' stems from a $10 billion lawsuit Trump brought personally against the IRS, an agency he oversees, over leaked tax return documents. To resolve the suit, the Justice Department will establish a fund of approximately $1.8 billion—a wildly disproportionate sum relative to Trump's alleged injuries—that can be distributed to Trump allies. The fund is described as 'loosely controlled and secretive,' and administration officials have not ruled out payments to January 6 insurrectionists.
How the Fund Works
The fund will be administered by four commissioners appointed by Trump's attorney general and one appointed 'in consultation' with congressional leadership. Trump, who can fire the commissioners, retains ultimate control. The fund has authority to issue formal apologies for alleged mistreatment of conservative political actors by previous administrations—specifically those prosecuted or sued during the Biden era. Any remaining money upon Trump's departure will revert to the federal government, but Donegan doubts any will remain. There is no requirement for public disclosure of the fund's work, and required reports to the attorney general are confidential. Additionally, the agreement mandates that the IRS drop all audits of Trump and his family.
Legal and Ethical Concerns
Acting Attorney General Todd Blanche stated, 'The machinery of government should never be weaponized against any American,' a comment Donegan notes is ironic given politically motivated prosecutions under Trump. The president sued an executive agency he controls, with the IRS represented by Justice Department lawyers also under his control. The federal judge questioned the conflict of interest and commissioned an independent group of lawyers, who filed a brief indicating 'reason to believe that the president is, in fact, exercising his control over the defendants.' The agreement was reached just before a May 20 deadline demanding explanation of the conflict.
Donegan calls this an 'extraordinary incident of bald self-dealing,' even in an administration where blatant corruption has become routine. Trump's second term has been marked by conflicts of interest and use of public office for personal enrichment. The nation's interests are being subverted to the president's financial interests and those of his cronies, as the federal government's buying and regulatory power is bent toward those who pay off the administration.
Why Hasn't This Been a Bigger Story?
Donegan questions why Trump's corruption hasn't dominated media coverage. She suggests it may be less lurid than his attacks on democratic institutions, mass deportation efforts, ties to Jeffrey Epstein, or alleged sexual assaults—all of which he denies. Alternatively, the brazenness may evade notice because the press and public mistakenly believe a cover-up is worse than the crime itself. The corruption, she argues, is likely one of Trump's most enduring legacies, setting a precedent for future administrations, degrading federal projects and policy, transferring wealth to allies, and fostering cynicism among bureaucrats, politicians, and voters.
Political Implications
Donegan asks whether Americans care about being scammed. She believes they would if the extent of corruption were made clear. Democrats have been poor at messaging and unable to dominate public conversation on platforms controlled by Trump's allies. However, the issue is worth seizing on ahead of midterms for its simplicity. Americans are suffering from high prices, poor job prospects, and a president who mocks them. They do not like being stolen from or played for fools. The column concludes that Trump's self-dealing is a scandal that should be front and center in political discourse.
