Editorial: Trump's Santos commutation is typically contemptuous of 'law and order'

St. Louis Post-Dispatch Editorial Board, St. Louis Post-Dispatch on Oct 23, 2025

Published in Op Eds

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The pantheon of problematic presidential pardons has always cut across partisan lines.

Former President Joe Biden’s pre-emptive pardon of his son, Hunter Biden, was among the most brazen examples ever of a president putting family loyalty above presidential duty. Barack Obama’s commutation of the prison sentence of Army private and document-leaker Chelsea Manning was widely condemned as a live threat to national security. Bill Clinton’s pardon of major Democratic donor Marc Green was so suspect that it spawned a federal investigation.

As is so often the case in the Trump era, our current president has managed to take one of the most historically abused elements of presidential power and turn it up to 11. Then to 12, then to 13.

President Donald Trump’s commutation last week of the prison sentence of former U.S. congressman and prodigious fraudster George Santos is by no means this president’s most appalling abuse of clemency. Not even close. But it does stand as yet another reminder that to Trump, the old Republican mantle of “law and order” means nothing — that slavish fealty to Trump’s political movement, and to himself personally, is all that matters.

Santos was the Republican political novice who shocked everyone by winning a House seat in a traditionally Democratic New York district — and who was then promptly revealed as having fabricated virtually his entire personal, educational and business history.

No, Santos wasn’t a wealthy real estate mogul. No, he didn’t work at top-flight Wall Street banking firms. No, his parents didn’t flee the Holocaust. No, his mother didn’t die as a result of the 9/11 attacks. And, yes, this compulsive fabulist did in fact embezzle campaign funds from his own donors to fund a lavish lifestyle, did commit identity theft and did fraudulently collect pandemic unemployment benefits.

After being expelled from the House on a strongly bipartisan vote, Santos pleaded guilty to defrauding his donors. He was sentenced to more than seven years in prison. Case closed.

Or, at least, it should have been. Trump on Friday commuted Santos’ sentence with what included bluntly, crassly partisan reasoning.

Don’t take our word for it. The president’s announcement on Truth Social specified that part of his rationale was that Santos “had the Courage, Conviction, and Intelligence to ALWAYS VOTE REPUBLICAN!” As if one’s party affiliation should be a factor in whether one stays incarcerated.

Presidential pardons have at times been used in noble ways: Jimmy Carter’s mass pardons of Vietnam War draft evaders come to mind, as does Obama’s mass pardon of nonviolent drug offenders. Gerald Ford’s pardon of Richard Nixon was controversial, but its stated purpose of helping America move on from the national trauma of Watergate wasn’t unreasonable.

Contrast that with Trump’s blanket pardon of the more than 1,500 supporters who stormed the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021. Many of them physically attacked police officers and directly threatened members of Congress; all of them were attempting to prevent the peaceful transfer of presidential power.

In short, this was undoubtedly the most deplorable abuse of presidential pardon power in America’s history.

Trump’s use of that power was typically corrupt even before that grotesque stunt. From cronies like Roger Stone, Steve Bannon and Paul Manafort to fellow shysters like former Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich (a self-described “Trump-o-crat”), the lengthy list of mercy from Trump reads like a who’s-who of the worst of the worst in American politics.

Trump’s mercy extends not just to political supporters but to those who share his most dehumanizing instincts. They include former Arizona Sheriff Joseph Arpaio, best known for tormenting Latinos in his jurisdiction, and four U.S. service members convicted in relation to the killing of 14 unarmed Iraqi civilians.

In the case of Santos, Trump’s misdirected mercy will be expensive for Santos’ fraud victims. Trump’s order specifies that Santos will no longer have to make restitution — meaning he’s off the hook for some $370,000 the courts had ordered him to pay up.

A key issue in clemency for those who are clearly guilty of their crimes should be whether they are contrite. In Santos’ case, that question was answered starkly when he was asked whether he would attempt to make restitution anyway: “If it’s required of me by the law, yes,” Santos told CNN. “If it’s not, then, no.” Meaning, thanks to Trump, Santos’ victims won’t be getting one red cent.

Even some of Trump’s GOP congressional supporters are voicing disappointment at Santos’ commutation — but don’t expect more than a little grumbling. That they are willing, again and again, to accept this politicized abuse of mercy and move on should banish them forever from uttering the phrase “law and order.”

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