Donald Trump’s lawyers have a difficult job, and occasionally that job gets up in the morning, opens Truth Social, and posts the evidence.
The latest installment concerns East Potomac Golf Links in Washington, D.C., where the administration has been explaining that its renovation plans are still conceptual. In an October 9 court filing, a National Park Service official stated: “Plans for renovating the East Potomac Golf Course remain in the conceptual stage.”
A concept. A possibility. Something being gently considered by responsible adults who would certainly complete the appropriate steps before proceeding. Then Trump posted a map and announced the course would close November 15 for approximately 15 months.
You can almost hear a Justice Department attorney quietly taking off his glasses and wondering whether his dental insurance would cover chewing through the desk.
Imagine spending your entire Friday carefully explaining that there is no final plan, only to spend Sunday watching your client announce the conceptual closing date for his theoretical construction project, accompanied by a hypothetical map. Somewhere in Washington, a lawyer is staring at a document named DEFINITE_PLANS_FINAL_FINAL.jpg and experiencing a headache that qualifies for federal disaster assistance.
The trouble began well before Trump decided to serve as his own surprise witness. According to NPR, officials notified the court shortly before 5 p.m. on Friday, October 9, that they intended to remove up to 529 trees in phases beginning Saturday. At least 430 were cut down by the end of that day. Judge Ana Reyes subsequently halted further tree removal through October 26.
That is a remarkably energetic concept. When I have a concept for a garden project, I generally stand outside holding a shovel, reconsider the location six times, and eventually come inside because I need to look something up. The federal government apparently conceptualizes with a chainsaw.
There is also something exquisitely familiar about announcing an enormous undertaking just before 5 p.m. on a Friday. That’s when you send an email about a missing timesheet because you hope nobody will respond until Monday. It’s an ambitious time to introduce several hundred trees to the afterlife.
When a government lawyer said officials had done their best to notify the court, Reyes responded: “You did not do your best. You did your absolute worst.”
There are judicial rebukes, and then there’s being spoken to like a golden retriever discovered standing in the Thanksgiving stuffing. The administration has maintained that the tree removal was separate from the golf redevelopment. At Monday’s hearing, Reyes expressed deep skepticism about the suggestion that the two things had coincidentally occurred together.
Of course. The trees just happened to disappear where the new golf course was being contemplated. A spontaneous clearing. Perhaps they migrated. It is autumn, after all. The maples are heading south, and the oaks have booked a connecting flight through Atlanta.
Into this delicate legal situation strode the president, carrying a map. There must be a special terror in representing a man whose understanding of attorney-client privilege appears to be that the attorney has the privilege of finding out what the client is doing at the same time as everybody else.
You prepare an argument. You review the filings. You develop a strategy. Then your phone vibrates, and the president has announced a construction timetable to several million people.
Law school should offer a course specifically for this. Three credits, no textbook, just a professor periodically entering the room to announce that your client has purchased a billboard. Trump also addressed the judge Monday morning, calling her a “crazed lunatic.”
A useful intervention. Judges famously become more receptive to your position after learning that your client has publicly reviewed their mental fitness like a disappointed guest describing a Hampton Inn. One star. Asked questions. Wouldn’t let me chainsaw.
Beneath the spectacle are hundreds of actual trees and a public place people use. Whatever one thinks of the proposed redesign, the stumps are already there. A court can order a pause, but it can’t tell a mature tree to please disregard the administration’s landscaping decisions and stand back up.
The administration’s courtroom account deserves scrutiny, especially when the president is outside enthusiastically advertising the project his officials are describing with such exquisite caution. Still, I keep thinking about the lawyers. There they are, trying to convince a federal judge that the situation is less definite than it looks, while their client is effectively waving from a bulldozer with a commemorative opening date.
Ordinarily, opposing counsel has to work to undermine your argument. They research, depose witnesses, and spend months seeking documents. With Trump, they can simply enable notifications.
The golf course may remain conceptual. The lawyer’s ulcer has entered construction.
I just looked at Google maps of the golf course. It is not as if it had many trees in the first place. It now must look desolate.
Oh those poor trees ☹️