Come, let’s meet the “deep state.” You know, the one Donald Trump wants his attorney general to rein in, dismantle or just plain nuke.
By day, they are the lawyers of the Justice Department, putting bad guys behind bars, foiling domestic terrorists and drug dealers, cybercrooks and corporate criminals. They’re government workers who still go into the office, keeping Metro rolling. But we visit them now in their native habitat, in suburban Northern Virginia, in such places as Springfield and Mantua, Arlington and Alexandria.
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They’ve stayed with the government for decades because in good times, they are on the cutting edge of progress, helping the country expand rights and freedoms while ensuring that there are meaningful consequences for those who abuse their neighbors. And in tough times, they are the bulwark, the last line of defense against decay and decline.
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Right now, their worries at home focus on what to do when Trump’s gang of rogues takes the reins of power. Like other federal workers, the lawyers at Justice are often portrayed these days as a skittish bunch, especially so because the next president of the United States, a felon, first chose Matt “I’m a representative, not a monk” Gaetz to be their boss, and then, when his nomination blew up in a sleaze storm, replaced him with former Florida attorney general Pam Bondi, who was an outspoken advocate for Trump’s pernicious fantasy about winning the 2020 election.
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In their living rooms, safe for the moment from the wrath of the Republican renegades, these civil servants say they are not ready to flee Justice’s granite heap on Pennsylvania Avenue. A few are sniffing around at big D.C. law firms, but the attorneys I talked to — people who investigate violent gangs, drug cartels, tax cheats and hatemongers — are not quivering in their loafers (though they did speak on the condition of anonymity to protect themselves from new bosses who might be on the hunt for early trophies.)
They have seen political interference before, from Democrats and Republicans alike, though it was often more subtle than what Trump threatens. In past administrations, they say, lawyers pursuing politically dicey cases might (rarely) find themselves transferred to a less prominent position or encouraged to find employment elsewhere.
For the most part, though, the political passions of past attorneys general and presidents have proved to be fleeting storms. The deep state is the permanent government, which can be slow and frustrating but is also a bedrock; these are the experts politicians turn to for reliable counsel when the TV cameras are off.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/opin...d=mc_magnet-optrumpadmin_inline_collection_18
One Justice veteran says most colleagues will stay on, both because civil service rules protect them from cavalier cashiering and because the first Trump term “did not have a significant impact on our work. His people came in with some general distrust of us, like, ‘You are the deep state.’ Then they got to know us and saw that we were good Americans who want to do the right thing.”
They expect Trump II to be more intrusive. “Career DOJ lawyers must be fully committed to implementing President Trump’s policies or they should leave or be fired,” Mark Paoletta, a lawyer for the Trump transition, tweeted last week.
Paoletta said Justice lawyers during Trump I told their bosses they were “too busy” to work on a civil rights case against Yale University alleging discrimination against Asian and White people in admissions decisions. He said political appointees then shifted attorneys from other divisions to move the case forward.
Such tension has existed for decades, career lawyers say, but, as one told me, “lawyers at Justice have always enjoyed the leeway to avoid working on cases they don’t believe in, such as capital punishment cases.”
“It almost doesn’t matter who’s at the top if things are allowed to operate properly,” another attorney said. When they’re not, career staffers can and will resist. If a new boss tells lawyers, “‘You will prosecute this person even though there’s no evidence against them,’ everyone knows that people here just wouldn’t do that,” this lawyer said.
Career prosecutors remain in the department knowing they’re never going to make big money. They prefer government’s mission. They’re determined not to let one four-year patch of trouble change their career plans, but they’re steeling themselves for confrontations, especially if they work on public corruption and other inherently political matters.
They know the new administration’s threats could get serious. After all, Vice President-elect JD Vance suggested in 2021 that Trump should “fire every single mid-level bureaucrat, every civil servant” and defy court orders that seek to protect career workers.
In democracies, the rule of law depends on trust that people will obey legal authorities. In contrast, “In absolute government, the King is law,” as American revolutionary Thomas Paine wrote in 1776.
In this city, where laws are the primary product, our main protectors don’t live in the White House. They live in the burbs, getting by on salaries they could triple or more in the private sector. Democracy, as Yale historian Timothy Snyder has written, depends on laws “implemented by civil servants. We might find bureaucracy annoying; its absence, though, is deadly.”
By day, they are the lawyers of the Justice Department, putting bad guys behind bars, foiling domestic terrorists and drug dealers, cybercrooks and corporate criminals. They’re government workers who still go into the office, keeping Metro rolling. But we visit them now in their native habitat, in suburban Northern Virginia, in such places as Springfield and Mantua, Arlington and Alexandria.
Sign up for the Prompt 2024 newsletter for answers to the election’s biggest questions
They’ve stayed with the government for decades because in good times, they are on the cutting edge of progress, helping the country expand rights and freedoms while ensuring that there are meaningful consequences for those who abuse their neighbors. And in tough times, they are the bulwark, the last line of defense against decay and decline.
ADVERTISING
Right now, their worries at home focus on what to do when Trump’s gang of rogues takes the reins of power. Like other federal workers, the lawyers at Justice are often portrayed these days as a skittish bunch, especially so because the next president of the United States, a felon, first chose Matt “I’m a representative, not a monk” Gaetz to be their boss, and then, when his nomination blew up in a sleaze storm, replaced him with former Florida attorney general Pam Bondi, who was an outspoken advocate for Trump’s pernicious fantasy about winning the 2020 election.
🎤
Follow Opinions on the news
In their living rooms, safe for the moment from the wrath of the Republican renegades, these civil servants say they are not ready to flee Justice’s granite heap on Pennsylvania Avenue. A few are sniffing around at big D.C. law firms, but the attorneys I talked to — people who investigate violent gangs, drug cartels, tax cheats and hatemongers — are not quivering in their loafers (though they did speak on the condition of anonymity to protect themselves from new bosses who might be on the hunt for early trophies.)
They have seen political interference before, from Democrats and Republicans alike, though it was often more subtle than what Trump threatens. In past administrations, they say, lawyers pursuing politically dicey cases might (rarely) find themselves transferred to a less prominent position or encouraged to find employment elsewhere.
For the most part, though, the political passions of past attorneys general and presidents have proved to be fleeting storms. The deep state is the permanent government, which can be slow and frustrating but is also a bedrock; these are the experts politicians turn to for reliable counsel when the TV cameras are off.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/opin...d=mc_magnet-optrumpadmin_inline_collection_18
One Justice veteran says most colleagues will stay on, both because civil service rules protect them from cavalier cashiering and because the first Trump term “did not have a significant impact on our work. His people came in with some general distrust of us, like, ‘You are the deep state.’ Then they got to know us and saw that we were good Americans who want to do the right thing.”
They expect Trump II to be more intrusive. “Career DOJ lawyers must be fully committed to implementing President Trump’s policies or they should leave or be fired,” Mark Paoletta, a lawyer for the Trump transition, tweeted last week.
Paoletta said Justice lawyers during Trump I told their bosses they were “too busy” to work on a civil rights case against Yale University alleging discrimination against Asian and White people in admissions decisions. He said political appointees then shifted attorneys from other divisions to move the case forward.
Such tension has existed for decades, career lawyers say, but, as one told me, “lawyers at Justice have always enjoyed the leeway to avoid working on cases they don’t believe in, such as capital punishment cases.”
“It almost doesn’t matter who’s at the top if things are allowed to operate properly,” another attorney said. When they’re not, career staffers can and will resist. If a new boss tells lawyers, “‘You will prosecute this person even though there’s no evidence against them,’ everyone knows that people here just wouldn’t do that,” this lawyer said.
Career prosecutors remain in the department knowing they’re never going to make big money. They prefer government’s mission. They’re determined not to let one four-year patch of trouble change their career plans, but they’re steeling themselves for confrontations, especially if they work on public corruption and other inherently political matters.
They know the new administration’s threats could get serious. After all, Vice President-elect JD Vance suggested in 2021 that Trump should “fire every single mid-level bureaucrat, every civil servant” and defy court orders that seek to protect career workers.
In democracies, the rule of law depends on trust that people will obey legal authorities. In contrast, “In absolute government, the King is law,” as American revolutionary Thomas Paine wrote in 1776.
In this city, where laws are the primary product, our main protectors don’t live in the White House. They live in the burbs, getting by on salaries they could triple or more in the private sector. Democracy, as Yale historian Timothy Snyder has written, depends on laws “implemented by civil servants. We might find bureaucracy annoying; its absence, though, is deadly.”
