The factual bullshit from Trump-administration officials about Minnesota is, at least, easily detected: Hear claim, watch video, reject claim.
DHS Secretary Kristi Noem declares that Alex Pretti “brandished” a firearm. (He did not.) White House Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller tells us Pretti was “an assassin” who “tried to murder federal agents.” (Pretti never drew his weapon, got pepper-sprayed, and wound up at the bottom of an ICE dogpile.) Donald Trump proclaims that Renee Good “violently, willfully, and viciously ran over the ICE officer.” (Glancing contact, yes; “ran over,” no.)
But these flagrant fabrications about what happened on the streets rest on a latticework of subtler but similarly insidious falsehoods about the law. The administration’s serial legal misstatements support the garbage it’s spewing about the facts. So let’s address and correct some of the most egregious examples.
“Domestic terrorist” (used by Miller, Noem, and Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche to describe, at various points, Good, Pretti, Minnesota Governor Tim Walz, and Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey).
Beyond the pure barbarity of publicly branding any recently deceased person a “domestic terrorist,” the administration’s habitual knee-jerk invocation of this term makes zero legal sense. For starters, there is no crime called “domestic terrorism.” Rather, federal law defines the term and then (curiously) does nothing with it, leaving the concept floating out there as an academic curiosity.
Even if the term had real meaning, applying it to Good or Pretti underscores the ridiculousness of the administration’s name-calling. Under the federal definition, a person engages in “domestic terrorism” if he (1) commits an illegal act “dangerous to human life,” (2) intends to “intimidate or coerce a civilian population” or to influence government policy by “intimidation or coercion” or “mass destruction, assassination, or kidnapping.” Good and Pretti were no more “domestic terrorists” than they were space travelers.
Even if the “domestic terrorism” label somehow fit, it would not follow that the cops could then open fire. It is settled in the law (and DOJ policy) that the police may use lethal force only when it is reasonably necessary to neutralize an imminent threat of death or serious bodily injury to an officer or another person. The law does not permit the killing of a person based merely on their suspected (or even confirmed) status as “domestic terrorist,” absent some immediate lethal threat.
Surprisingly, given his own tendency toward inflammatory accusations, Blanche disavowed the administration’s rhetoric around Pretti: “I don’t think anybody thinks that they were comparing what happened on Saturday [relating to Pretti] to the legal definition of domestic terrorism.” He’s right. Now somebody needs to tell Miller, Noem, and the rest of the crew. And Blanche himself should stop misusing the term to describe elected officials like Walz and Frey when they engage in First Amendment–protected political speech.
“The precedent here is very simple. You have a federal law enforcement official engaging in federal law-enforcement action — that’s a federal issue. That guy is protected by absolute immunity” (Vice-President J.D. Vance).
Vance has already retreated from this one. Days after his initial false pronouncement, Vance claimed he “didn’t say, and I don’t think any other official within the Trump administration said, that officers who engaged in wrongdoing would enjoy immunity.” (He did, of course, say that.)
Here’s the reality. Federal officers have “qualified immunity,” which is (absolutely) not “absolute.” Rather, courts apply a two-part test: (1) Was the officer acting in the course of his official duties? And (2) did the officer violate a clearly established constitutional or statutory right? The first answer in the Good and Pretti cases is an easy “yes,” but the second is far more complicated and could break against the law-enforcement officers. It’s accurate, then, to say that federal law-enforcement officials enjoy broad immunity — but that protection is certainly not “absolute,” as Vance initially claimed (and then denied he had ever said).
Pretti “resisted” arrest (DHS Spokesperson Tricia McLaughlin) and “obstruct[ed]” law enforcement (Bovino) (similar to Trump’s prior commentary attributing Good’s death to Minnesota Democratic officials who “are actually encouraging Leftwing agitators to unlawfully obstruct their operations”).
Anyone who resists arrest or obstructs law enforcement can, indeed, be indicted and prosecuted by the federal government. Had DHS officials simply arrested Good and Pretti and charged them with obstruction, we’d never have heard their names (and they’d both be alive). But — though this shouldn’t need to be said aloud, let’s err on the side of caution — a person who resists or obstructs law enforcement cannot be summarily put to death.
“You cannot bring a firearm, loaded, with multiple magazines to any sort of protest that you want. It’s that simple” (FBI Director Kash Patel, echoing a prior statement by Noem, later reiterated by Bovino).
This one is so off-base that the president of the Gun Owners Caucus of Minnesota labeled it “fundamentally wrong.” (The National Rifle Association — yes, the NRA — rebuked a similar statement by a Trump-appointed U.S. attorney that “if you approach law enforcement with a gun, there is a high likelihood they will be justified in shooting you” as “dangerous and wrong.”)
First, Pretti had no prior criminal record and was properly licensed to own and carry his firearm in Minnesota. Second, like it or not, a person who lawfully possesses and carries a gun absolutely can bring it to a protest. (It may not be a great idea, but it’s legal.) Third, even if it was somehow unlawful to possess a firearm at a protest, the police are not entitled to use lethal force unless (as we saw above) it is reasonably considered necessary to prevent imminent death or serious bodily injury.
It’s plain that, when it comes to the fatal shootings in Minnesota, the Trump administration cares little for the finer points of law — you know, like “getting it right” and “applying it accurately.” It’s less clear why it’s so bad at this. Maybe it’s incompetence, maybe it’s malignance, or maybe it’s both. Whatever the underlying cause, the administration sabotages its own credibility when top officials fabricate the facts. And while distortions of the law are less detectable, they’re just as corrosive. The law, more than the facts, allows for flexible interpretation. But there’s only so far it can bend.