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What To Do When You're Stopped By Police - The ACLU & Elon James White

What To Do When You're Stopped By Police - The ACLU & Elon James White

Know Anyone Who Thinks Racial Profiling Is Exaggerated? Watch This, And Tell Me When Your Jaw Drops.


This video clearly demonstrates how racist America is as a country and how far we have to go to become a country that is civilized and actually values equal justice. We must not rest until this goal is achieved. I do not want my great grandchildren to live in a country like we have today. I wish for them to live in a country where differences of race and culture are not ignored but valued as a part of what makes America great.

Sunday, May 31, 2026

Georgia town’s novel strategy to fight ICE jail plan impresses legal experts | ICE (US Immigration and Customs Enforcement) | The Guardian

Georgia town’s novel strategy to fight ICE jail plan impresses legal experts

"Town of Social Circle’s complaint invokes ‘public nuisance’ law that scholars say could have impact for other localities

people stand outside
A group of canvassers opposed to the Ice detention facility proposal in Social Circle, Georgia.Photograph: Dustin Chambers/The Guardian

A small Georgia town’s federal lawsuit opposing the Trump administration’s plans to turn a warehouse into one of the largest immigration detention centers in the US has the potential to create a wide impact as it uses novel legal arguments, experts said.

The town of Social Circle’s complaint goes further than other recently filed lawsuits around the same issues, which assert that the US federal government has not carried out environmental impact assessments for proposed detention centers, as required by the National Environmental Policy Act (Nepa).

The town’s lawsuit goes on to allege that the homeland security department and ICE have also violated the federal Administrative Procedures Act (APA) – which “requires reasoned decision-making by federal agencies, including consideration of adversely affected interests and any reasonable alternatives”, according to the complaint.

Additionally, the complaint asserts that locating what ICE has called “megacenters” in the small town of about 5,000 residents would violate Georgia’s “public nuisance” law – meaning it would “harm their health, safety, and wellbeing”.

The approach shows that Social Circle “is willing to pursue a new legal theory to defend their rights, to defend their town”, said Adam Lauridsen, one of the plaintiff’s attorneys.

The innovation may prove important. “It’s significant that this is not just an environmental claim, but also raises the two other types of claims,” said Timothy D Lytton, law professor at Georgia State University. “This can frame placing these facilities in these towns in a different way.”

Samantha Hamilton, senior staff attorney at Asian Americans Advancing Justice – Atlanta, an organization that opposes ICE’s plans, agrees. “Other claims are focusing on Nepa – ‘They skipped a step and need to do an environmental review,’” she said. But the town’s decision to invoke state public nuisance law “reminds the court that communities are part of this discussion. It reminds of the humanity of the people behind this, and is more in step with what the public is saying.”

The complaint, filed in mid-May, is also the first to come from a local jurisdiction and not a state attorney general. Additionally, the small town sits in a county where nearly 75% voted for Trump. States that have sued over the issue in recent months – New Jersey, Michigan, Maryland and Arizona – are all led by Democrats.

Eric Taylor, city manager for Social Circle, told the Guardian “we went the route we had to go”, given that the proposed plans for his town would triple the local population, putting strains on drinking water and sewage, as well as on local police and ambulances.

a building exterior
The exterior of what is said will be a future ICE holding facility in Social Circle. Photograph: Dustin Chambers/The Guardian

“It’s pretty rare for a 5,000-person town to go up against the federal government in such a high-profile matter,” Lauridsen said.

“It shows that towns have the power to resist ICE and DHS coming in and building detention centers that will hurt the town and its people,” he added.

Lauridsen pointed to the town’s interactions with the agencies after it became clear that the federal government had purchased a warehouse for $128m in early February – nearly five times its assessed value of $29m last year, Taylor told the Guardian shortly after the sale went through.

The Guardian’s earlier reporting, which is cited in the lawsuit, went on to detail the frustrations of Taylor, the city manager, with obtaining answers from the federal government about his concerns over the proposed project’s impacts on the town.

Taylor said he has only spoken with federal officials once, by phone, for less than an hour – and the concerns remain.

A DHS spokesperson wrote in response to a query: “As with any transition, we are reviewing agency policies and proposals. As Secretary Mullin said in his confirmation hearing: ‘I will work with the community leaders and make sure that we are delivering for the American people what the president set out … We want to work with community leaders. We want to be good partners.’”

ICE did not reply.

“The federal government needs to plan things out and explain what its doing – it can’t just shoot first, explain later,” said Lauridsen, referring to the lawsuit’s APA claim.

Lauridsen said the APA’s “protections are now even more significant and relevant”, and that other local jurisdictions “can invoke their rights under the APA to force the government to follow the law – even in other areas outside immigration”.

Allison Gill, a former high-level official at the Department of Veterans Affairs who became known for her podcast Mueller, She Wrote, invoked the APA in a lawsuit she filed against the Department of Justice, over the Trump administration’s $1.776bn “anti-weaponization fund”.

As for public nuisance claims, Lauridsen noted that they are more commonly filed against corporations, and that he expects the federal government to assert it has immunity against such a claim.

Still, he said, the law exists for “people to protect themselves from someone coming in and hurting their environment and way of life”.

Lytton of Georgia State noted that while the case may take a while to be resolved in the courts, its overall approach may have a more immediate impact. “People file lawsuits to change government policy or decisions,” he said. “So it’s not just a matter of winning – if it attracts public interest, that can help [plaintiffs] meet their goals in other ways.”

Taylor pointed to localities around the nation where similar plans for detention centers are afoot.

“We’re all in the same boat … and we need to be learning from each other. If we’re successful, I hope it helps other communities down the line,” he said."

Georgia town’s novel strategy to fight ICE jail plan impresses legal experts | ICE (US Immigration and Customs Enforcement) | The Guardian

Trump Administration Sees Striking Exodus of Legal Talent

Trump Administration Sees Striking Exodus of Legal Talent

"The departure of more than 10,000 federal lawyers has left some agencies without sufficient staff and has boosted the ranks of state attorneys general offices and advocacy groups.

Phil Weiser, the Colorado attorney general, with some of the 22 lawyers from across the federal government that he has hired since May of last year.Rachel Woolf for The New York Times

By Eileen Sullivan and Andrea Fuller

Eileen Sullivan covers the federal government. Andrea Fuller analyzes data sets of public interest, including federal employment records.

President Trump’s upheaval of the federal government has led to an exodus of more than 10,000 lawyers since the beginning of 2025, a striking loss of legal talent that has left some agencies pushing to find attorneys to carry out his agenda.

Roughly one in five lawyers who worked in the government at the end of 2024 had left by March of this year, according to a New York Times analysis of federal employment data.

Along with the usual retirements and turnover in the federal work force, the last year saw deep staffing cuts and the resignations of some staff members who objected to Mr. Trump’s policies. Their departures show how rapidly the president has eroded the image of the federal government as the gold standard for lawyers seeking public service roles.

Instead, many of those looking for such work are flocking to the offices of Democratic state attorneys general and nonprofits that are challenging administration policies in the courts, boosting Mr. Trump’s opponents with seasoned lawyers.

“There’s all this awareness that people in the federal government are dissatisfied, are angry, are frustrated, and want no part of it,” said Phil Weiser, Colorado’s attorney general, who has hired 22 lawyers from across the federal government in the last year. “That’s translating directly to people saying, ‘I want to be part of organizations that actually operate with integrity, that people want to be a part of, that people feel good about doing the right thing.’”

Wariness of the Trump administration is also palpable inside law schools, where many aspiring lawyers who would have once jumped at the chance to hold a federal government job are seeking alternative paths, according to faculty members and students.

“A lot of people my age are asking, ‘Is it worth getting a job, and will that help career wise — having one year of Trump administration experience on your résumé?’” said Matthew Duray, who described himself as a conservative Republican and just finished his first year at George Mason University’s Antonin Scalia Law School. “Or will that hurt? And that’s the question I guess everyone’s asking, and that’s the bet you have to make ahead of time. But it’s hard to know long term.”

Departures Outpace Hires

While federal agencies brought on about 3,200 lawyers since the beginning of 2025, departures still outpaced hiring, data shows. Lawyers also exited the government at a faster rate than turnover in the overall work force. All told, the federal government employed about 37,000 civilian lawyers at the end of March, 17 percent fewer than it did at the end of 2024.

The Justice Department, which employs more than a quarter of all government lawyers, saw the largest decline in raw numbers. But other agencies — including the Department of Education, the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau and the Department of Housing and Urban Development — lost an even greater share of attorneys.

The only major agency to gain lawyers was the Department of Homeland Security, which saw its legal ranks grow by 21 percent as it drove Mr. Trump’s immigration crackdown.

These cabinet agencies lost a greater share of lawyers than overall staff

AgencyNumber of lawyers
Dec. 2024March 2026Change

Education

645

303

–53%

Housing

448

271

–40

Interior

542

394

–27

Labor

609

446

–27

Energy

721

530

–26

Agriculture

231

170

–26

Health

1,147

866

–24

Transportation

622

477

–23

Justice

12,975

10,310

–21

Veterans Affairs

1,935

1,640

–15

Defense

4,576

3,880

–15

It is difficult to assess the scope of the impact the legal departures have had on government functions. In some ways, it has meant fewer internal obstacles for a president who saw career lawyers as an impediment to much of his first-term agenda.

But the deficit of lawyers has also meant that there are fewer of them available to defend the administration’s policies in court, and to enforce laws across the government.

“There are a lot of things that just can’t get done without lawyers — appearances in court, reviewing of regulations,” said Erik Heins, a former lawyer at the Department of Housing and Urban Development who was fired last year after raising concerns internally about fair housing lawyers being reassigned to other offices. As of March, the agency employed 40 percent fewer lawyers than it did at the end of 2024.

The Education Department, which shed more than half of its lawyers since the end of 2024, now needs more attorneys for its civil rights division to clear a backlog of discrimination cases, Linda McMahon, the education secretary, recently told Congress.

The Justice Department, which saw its attorney ranks shrink by a fifth, has relaxed its hiring requirements for some positions.

“We are fast-tracking applications to bring talented professionals on board,” Harmeet K. Dhillon, the assistant attorney general for the Justice Department’s civil rights division, declared in a recruiting ad posted on social media this spring.

But the overt political pressure inside the Justice Department to carry out Mr. Trump’s retribution agenda has turned off some potential candidates.

Are you a federal worker? We want to hear from you.

The Times would like to hear about your experience as a federal worker under the second Trump administration. We may reach out about your submission, but we will not publish any part of your response without contacting you first.

Scott Bourque, who just finished his first year at Georgetown University Law Center, said he declined a Justice Department internship this summer.

“A lot of people I’ve spoken to just in the last few months have said that they would look down on a person if they had a federal job on their résumé that they started during this administration,” he said. “And some people have explicitly said they would see a person willing to go to work at this D.O.J. as somebody they couldn’t trust.”

To bring in more lawyers for the entire government, the Office of Personnel Management recently launched a legal talent recruiting network for people to learn about openings, and to put them on the radar of hiring managers. So far, that outreach has drawn the interest of just 300 people, the agency’s spokeswoman said.

The White House did not respond directly to questions about the climate that has led so many lawyers to leave, or about whether the administration is struggling to hire new ones.

Abigail Jackson, a White House spokeswoman, said in a statement that the administration “remains totally dedicated to empowering and hiring hard-working Americans who are committed to public service and delivering on the president’s many promises to the American people.”

“The individuals who are hired are extremely qualified and talented,” she added.

‘Not a Sustainable Situation’

Mr. Trump’s willingness to blow through traditional guardrails and upend the mission of federal agencies has created a volatile environment far different than what many career lawyers said they experienced in his first administration.

“I was pretty blindsided by Trump 2.0,” said Brandon Jones-Cobb, a former Environmental Protection Agency Clean Air Act lawyer.

“All of the enforcement cases I’ve been developing for years were just on permanent pause,” Mr. Jones-Cobb said. He left the agency during the summer of 2025 to go work for a nonprofit organization, the Center for Biological Diversity. He recently sued the E.P.A. over not enforcing air pollution controls.

The E.P.A.’s legal ranks shrank by about a quarter between the end of 2024 and this March.

Brandon Jones-Cobb, a former Environmental Protection Agency Clean Air Act lawyer, left the agency last summer to go work for a nonprofit organization, the Center for Biological Diversity.Grant Hindsley for The New York Times

Some young lawyers looking to launch their careers are acutely aware of the federal government's shift in enforcement priorities, particularly on the environment.

“It didn’t seem to be the right mesh of what I, and perhaps others, ideologically believed in doing,” said Stanley Shaw, a recent graduate of the University of California, Irvine School of Law. He said he was also worried that if he took a job as an environmental lawyer at the Justice Department, he could be reassigned to conduct civil immigration enforcement. He, too, has turned his focus to looking for work with state and local governments and nonprofits. 

For lawyers committed to a particular enforcement mission, the federal government may not be the right place for them to work, said Cara Petersen, a former lawyer at the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau.

“At least not right now,” said Ms. Petersen, who works at Protect Borrowers, an advocacy group focused on student debt and predatory lending.

The agency had fewer than 200 lawyers in March, a loss of more than 50 percent from the Biden administration. It currently has just two openings posted on its website.

Some prospective applicants have also been rattled by the departures of high-profile attorneys inside the administration.

Earlier this month, the general counsel of the Treasury Department, Brian Morrissey, resigned hours after the government announced it was creating a $1.8 billion fund expected to benefit Mr. Trump’s allies, a maneuver the administration said resolved the president’s pending lawsuit against the Internal Revenue Service over the leaking of his tax records. (On Friday, a federal judge reopened the case, saying she wanted to examine allegations that the deal was based on “deception.”)

“We’re seeing a lot of alarm about the recent damage to the tax system and the rule of law,” said Chye-Ching Huang, the executive director of the Tax Law Center at New York University. “And people who want to be part of making things right, but they’re looking for guidance on whether there’s even a viable path to doing that.”

George Washington University’s law school, which is about a 15-minute walk from the White House, is now helping students who want to go into public service find opportunities with state legislatures or city councils.

“What we have done, in response, and we have to move nimbly because of our focus on public service, is we broaden the net of the kinds of public service jobs we can prepare and place our students in,” said Dayna Bowen Matthew, the dean of the law school.

Andrew Mergen, the director of the Emmett Environmental Law and Policy Clinic at Harvard Law School, said that he recognizes more people from his government career when he is doing video calls with nonprofit organizations and environmental advocates.

“I know two-thirds of the people, because they were my colleagues at D.O.J.,” said Mr. Mergen, who spent more than 30 years at the Justice Department. “This is a remarkable shift in talent out of the federal government to other places.”

Mr. Weiser, the Colorado attorney general and another Justice Department veteran, said the changes were both an opportunity for attorneys general like him and a painful reality.

“We’re getting talent we wouldn’t have gotten, and we’re getting expertise that’s valuable,” Mr. Weiser said. He noted that Colorado and other states successfully obtained a verdict against the concert giant Live Nation after the federal government backed out of the case mid-trial and settled.

“The states are able to pick up some of the slack, but this is not a sustainable situation,” he added. “We need a Justice Department with high-quality legal talent that operates with integrity.”

Michael C. Bender and Andrew Duehren contributed reporting.

Eileen Sullivan is a Times reporter covering the changes to the federal work force under the Trump administration.

Andrea Fuller is a data journalist at The Times, using data analysis to make sense of complex topics."

Inside the Deal to Drop Trump’s $10 Billion Suit Against the I.R.S.

 

Inside the Deal to Drop Trump’s $10 Billion Suit Against the I.R.S.

"Discussions among a group of lawyers with allegiance to the president were closely held. Some senior White House officials were said to have felt blindsided as the agreement took shape.


People walking outside the I.R.S. building.
An agreement to set up a $1.8 billion fund to pay people deemed to have been harmed by government “weaponization” and to grant tax benefits to President Trump, his family and businesses was brokered by a tight-knit group of lawyers.Jason Andrew for The New York Times

Time was running out.

President Trump had sued the I.R.S. for $10 billion, and a federal judge was pressing the Justice Department to explain how it could muster an independent defense of the agency against the man who ultimately controlled it.

Behind the scenes, the job of addressing the vexing problem of how to settle the suit fell to a tight-knit group of lawyers, all of whom had allegiance to Mr. Trump.

On one side of the talks was a Justice Department run by Todd Blanche, the acting attorney general who once served as Mr. Trump’s criminal defense lawyer.

On the other were the president’s private lawyers, among them Boris Epshteyn, who was a former client of Mr. Blanche’s. Mr. Epshteyn played a significant role in moving forward the deal to end the suit, coordinating and holding discussions with all of the sides involved: Mr. Trump, the president’s personal lawyers and Justice Department officials, according to multiple people familiar with the matter.

The discussions were so closely held that some senior White House officials told others that they were blindsided, learning of them only once the agreement was nearly complete.

In the end, the lawyers’ solution did not give Mr. Trump what his lawsuit had demanded, which was simply to move funds from the Treasury Department into his own pocket. But the agreement that was reached was still a big victory for the president and his allies: It set up a $1.8 billion fund to pay people deemed to have been harmed by so-called government “weaponization” — possibly including hundreds of rioters charged with storming the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021 — and released Mr. Trump and his businesses from potentially costly I.R.S. audits.

This article is based on interviews with more than a dozen people who discussed internal deliberations about the I.R.S. suit on the condition of anonymity.

The White House did not respond to requests for comment. Mr. Epshteyn declined to comment.

A spokeswoman for the Justice Department said that anyone who believed they were a victim of government weaponization could apply for money from the fund, claiming that many people had been victimized by the Biden administration.

Much is still unknown about how the arrangement came about. But the plan drafted by a group of Trump allies posed conflicts of interest that are remarkable, even for an administration riddled with them.

As questions have mounted about the nature of the deal, the federal judge who oversaw the lawsuit, Kathleen M. Williams, took the extraordinary step on Friday of revisiting the case, asking whether the parties had deceived her.

When the details of the agreement were first revealed two weeks ago, Democrats and former government officials lodged accusations of corruption and self-dealing, and even some Republicans reacted with scornful disbelief. Some G.O.P. senators were so angry they abandoned plans to approve a measure to finance the administration’s immigration crackdown.

Within days of the agreement becoming public, and before the judge raised questions about it, senior administration officials began preparing to get rid of the fund amid the intense blowback. Those discussions were reported earlier by The Wall Street Journal.

But while the agreement appeared to have emerged abruptly, it fused two ideas that had been kicking around in Mr. Trump’s circle for years: a desire by him and his family to avoid extensive tax audits, and a longing by his allies to obtain financial restitution for legal wrongs they claimed to have suffered during the Biden administration.

Sign up to get Maggie Haberman's articles emailed to you.  Maggie Haberman is a White House correspondent reporting on President Trump.

In its broad strokes, the plan was in keeping with other maneuvers by Mr. Trump. As president, he has often used the levers of power at his command to serve himself at a moment when he still maintains control over the government, including having the United States accept a $400 million luxury jet from Qatar that he could fly as president and intend to take later. But in establishing a fund that would involve billions in taxpayer money, the deal stands alone.

The president himself has said little about how the agreement came together or who played a role in resolving the suit, which faulted the I.R.S. for the leak of his tax information to The New York Times during his first term. The closest he has come in recent days was a post on social media in which he declared that he had given up “a lot of money” by “allowing” the fund to be created.

“I could have settled my case, including the illegal release of my Tax Returns and the equally illegal BREAK IN of Mar-a-Lago, for an absolute fortune,” Mr. Trump wrote. “Instead, I am helping others, who were so badly abused by an evil, corrupt, and weaponized Biden Administration, receive, at long last, JUSTICE!”

Trump v. Trump

Mr. Trump’s lawsuit against the I.R.S. landed at the Justice Department with a thud in late January.

By early spring, lawyers there were already wrestling with the legal dilemma the president’s pleading had created.

After all, to defend the I.R.S. against Mr. Trump, the department would have to fight a sitting president who was technically in charge of the agency and who demanded total loyalty from his subordinates.

Department lawyers were not the only ones who had identified this problem. Judge Williams, an Obama appointee who sits in Miami, had also homed in on it, wondering whether there was actually a conflict to adjudicate, given that Mr. Trump was effectively on both sides of the suit.

The suit contended that the I.R.S. had not done enough to prevent a contractor for the agency, Charles Littlejohn, from leaking to the news media reams of Mr. Trump’s tax information, along with the returns of hundreds of other very wealthy Americans during the president’s first term in office. Even though Mr. Littlejohn was prosecuted by the Biden administration and sentenced to five years in prison, Mr. Trump argued he was owed $10 billion by the I.R.S.

At first, there was a hope inside the Justice Department that lawyers would respond to the suit with a procedural maneuver to side step or delay the case. One option department lawyers quietly discussed was to ask Judge Williams to put the suit on hold until after Mr. Trump left office.

But that never happened. And it left Mr. Blanche and his team in a tight spot: They did not want the Justice Department to go into court and fight the suit, as it normally would, but also did not want to settle it by paying Mr. Trump directly, according to people familiar with their thinking.

Ending the case by funneling taxpayer money straight to the president struck them as politically untenable. Some department officials even worried that doing so could, under a future Democratic administration, expose them to a criminal investigation of conspiracy to defraud the government.

Todd Blanche walking in a blue suit with others down a Capitol Hill hallway.
Mr. Trump’s lawsuit against the I.R.S. forced the Justice Department, led by the acting attorney general Todd Blanche, to wrestle with the legal dilemma of potentially fighting a sitting president who has demanded total loyalty from his subordinates.Kenny Holston/The New York Times

Inside the I.R.S., the suit was treated more or less as business as usual, even though the plaintiff was the president. Lawyers at the agency followed normal procedures for responding to claims and prepared a 25-page memo for the Justice Department, outlining their views of the case.

In the memo, the I.R.S. recommended that the department move to dismiss the suit, pointing to two main problems: It had been filed too late and had wrongly blamed the I.R.S. for the actions of Mr. Littlejohn.

I.R.S. officials sent the memo to colleagues in the Treasury Department but it remains unclear whether those Treasury officials ever passed it on to the Justice Department. In fact, no Trump administration lawyer responded to the president’s suit at all — or even made an appearance on the court docket.

What finally pushed Judge Williams into action was a request on April 17 from one of Mr. Trump’s private lawyers, Alejandro Brito — not from a government lawyer — to delay all proceedings in the case for three months. A week later, the judge effectively ordered the Justice Department to tell her whether it intended to defend the I.R.S., giving the department until May 20 to provide an answer.

The pressure of that deadline set off a scramble, as lawyers on both sides of the suit started looking for a way to resolve the case and avoid further scrutiny from the judge.

Central in the negotiations was Trent McCotter, Mr. Blanche’s senior deputy and a rising star in the department, according to people familiar with the talks. He served as one of the administration’s chief interlocutors with personal lawyers in Mr. Trump’s orbit, including Daniel Epstein, who often works with Mr. Epshteyn and once served as a special assistant to Mr. Trump during his first term in the White House.

Ultimately, the discussions about settling the I.R.S. suit were combined with talks about ending two other unusual claims previously filed by Mr. Epstein, who works for America First Legal, the outside group co-founded in 2021 by Stephen Miller, Mr. Trump’s powerful White House adviser. Those claims demanded that the Justice Department pay the president about $230 million in compensation for the investigation into possible ties between Russia and his 2016 campaign, as well as the well-publicized F.B.I. search of Mr. Trump’s Mar-a-Lago estate for classified documents in 2022.

The idea that emerged was a global settlement of all of the claims that would push Mr. Trump away from the politically damaging effort to take money for himself. Instead it would create a fund for his allies and supporters — including the pardoned Jan. 6 rioters — who believed they had been wronged in the courts by previous Democratic administrations.

Mr. McCotter proposed a patriotic marketing gimmick, setting the fund’s amount at the symbolic sum of $1.776 billion, according to people familiar with the idea.

Still, it was not entirely a new idea.

In mid-2025, Ed Martin, a longtime advocate for the Jan. 6 rioters who was leading the Justice Department’s pardon office and a special working group intended to counteract government weaponization, had proposed a plan to address what he believed was mistreatment of Trump supporters by the legal system, according to people familiar with the matter. Mr. Martin envisioned a “truth commission” of sorts that would assess accusations of misconduct by the Justice Department and possibly make payouts to worthy claimants.

He even floated the idea to senior administration officials like Robert F. Kennedy Jr., the health and human services secretary who has long complained that Americans were harmed by the government’s response to Covid-19, according to a person with direct knowledge of the exchange.

Mr. Blanche, who has often clashed with Mr. Martin, rejected the idea, the person said. But with the May 20 deadline quickly approaching, the Justice Department, at Mr. McCotter’s urging, came up with its own plan to redress the supposed past wrongs suffered by the president’s supporters.

The plan was closely based on an Obama-era case called Keepseagle v. Vilsack, a class-action lawsuit that gave hundreds of millions of dollars to Native American farmers to settle accusations of government discrimination. Mr. McCotter took the idea to the Office of Legal Counsel, which offers advice on the law to Justice Department leaders. The office, run by T. Elliot Gaiser, a former clerk for Justice Samuel A. Alito Jr., blessed the proposal, agreeing that Keepseagle could serve as a model.

When the plan was made public, it faced an avalanche of criticism. The Treasury Department’s top lawyer, a Trump appointee, resigned.

Among the loudest critics were former Justice Department lawyers who had worked on the Keepseagle case, who pointed out that the Keepseagle settlement was overseen by a federal judge after years of litigation and analysis of the claims and evidence.

The resolution to Mr. Trump’s suit against the I.R.S., by contrast, was reached in private by lawyers loyal to the president and without any judicial oversight.

Appearing on CNN in recent days, Mr. Blanche was asked directly who came up with the terms of the agreement and said that there had been negotiations between Mr. Trump’s “outside counsel” and the Justice Department.

But he quickly added, “Not me.”

Broad Immunity From Audits

There was more.

Even as the two sides were hashing out the contours of the fund, there were also discussions about a second agreement that would end the lawsuit: a plan to give the Trump family and their businesses broad protection from I.R.S. investigations of tax returns they had already filed.

The tax immunity agreement was more like a rescue operation than a formal legal settlement. It called for the I.R.S. to absolve Mr. Trump and his businesses of all audits they were currently facing — including a yearslong battle with the tax agency that could have cost the president more than $100 million.

That fight stemmed partly from a refund that Mr. Trump had claimed — and collected — starting in about 2010. He justified the refund by declaring huge business losses, including on his tower in Chicago.

Early in Mr. Trump’s first term in the White House, the matter was put on hold, but it came back to life before he left office.

More recently, the company had entered settlement talks with the agency, laying the groundwork for a potential resolution, according to a person with knowledge of the matter.

Now, it seemed, the audit would vanish.

Acting as a cheerleader for the overall plan, including the tax deal, was Mr. Epshteyn, Mr. Trump’s top outside legal adviser who has been close to the president for about a decade, both when he was in and out of office.

Mr. Epshteyn played a significant role in moving the proposals forward, according to multiple people familiar with the matter, discussing the issue with Mr. Trump and circulating drafts of the tax agreement to Trump advisers.

While the origins of the tax maneuver remain somewhat obscure, the Justice Department began to assess the proposal about a week before Judge William’s May 20 deadline, according to people familiar with the matter. One of the questions raised was whether giving the Trumps protection against I.R.S. scrutiny would run afoul of a law barring the tax agency from dropping audits at the direction of the president or his aides.

The tax proposal did not end up appearing in the initial document that declared the lawsuit resolved and described the details of the compensation fund. That document was signed by the Justice Department’s No. 3 official, Stanley Woodward Jr., who had worked with Mr. Blanche on Mr. Trump’s defense team and represented several of the president’s close aides in various investigations.

In a curious twist, the tax addendum was posted, without fanfare, on the Justice Department’s website one day after the terms of the main agreement were released. It was a murky piece of writing, full of long sentences stuffed with subordinate clauses and the Trumpian use of words in capital letters. Only Mr. Blanche, and no one from the I.R.S., signed it.

The details of the fund were also somewhat inscrutable. Although the Justice Department had explicitly stated that the Trump Organization and the Trump family were ineligible for the fund, one confusing clause appeared to open the door for them to file claims.

Indeed, officials at the Trump Organization briefly discussed whether to do so, according to people with knowledge of the matter. No decision was made. On Friday, a federal judge in Virginia temporarily froze the fund.

Devlin Barrett and Russ Buettner contributed reporting.

Alan Feuer covers extremism and political violence for The Times, focusing on the criminal cases involving the Jan. 6 attack on the Capitol and against former President Donald J. Trump. 

Glenn Thrush covers the Department of Justice for The Times and has also written about gun violence, civil rights and conditions in the country’s jails and prisons.

Ben Protess is an investigative reporter at The Times, covering President Trump.

Maggie Haberman is a White House correspondent for The Times, reporting on President Trump."