On August 28, 2025, the American political landscape was shaken yet again by former President Donald Trump’s escalating rhetoric about crime, his dramatic calls for federal action, and a renewed focus on billionaire philanthropist George Soros. Trump’s recent statements—delivered through social media blasts and public appearances—have not only reignited old debates about law and order but have also prompted fierce responses from political opponents and observers concerned about the direction of public discourse.
Trump’s latest campaign has centered on what he describes as a “crime wave” sweeping the nation, particularly in major urban centers like Chicago, New York, and Baltimore. According to reporting by Robert Reich, Trump has even threatened to occupy these cities, raising the specter of federal intervention in local policing. This tactic, Reich points out, puts Democrats in a tricky position. If they deny that crime is a problem, they risk alienating swing voters who, regardless of actual statistics, remain deeply worried about safety in their neighborhoods. The fear has been stoked by visible issues such as expanding homeless encampments and a rise in drug overdoses—problems that are hard to ignore, even if overall crime rates have declined.
“Crime has also been a racial dog whistle,” Reich wrote, reminding readers that Republican leaders from Richard Nixon to Ronald Reagan have used crime as a coded appeal to white voters’ fears about Black communities. The strategy is as old as modern American politics, and Trump’s approach fits neatly into that tradition.
But Reich and other critics argue that Trump’s tough talk on crime masks a much softer approach when it comes to his own interests and allies. The facts bear this out. Since returning to the White House, Trump has granted clemency to a host of high-profile criminals. Among them is Lawrence Duran, a health care executive convicted of leading a massive Medicare fraud and money laundering operation. Then there’s Jason Galanis, whose 14-year sentence for defrauding investors—including a Native American tribe and a teachers’ pension fund—was commuted by Trump. Even reality TV stars Julie and Todd Chrisley, found guilty of bank fraud and tax evasion, received presidential pardons.
Perhaps most controversially, Trump pardoned 1,500 individuals involved in the January 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol—a violent event that led to the deaths of four police officers. According to Reich, “Trump has pardoned the 1,500 criminals who violently attacked the United States Capitol and caused the deaths of four police officers — and for then firing the federal prosecutors who held them accountable.” This move, critics say, sends a chilling message about the consequences of political violence and the rule of law.
The pattern continues with Trump’s Department of Justice, now led by Attorney General Pam Bondi. The Wall Street Journal reported that Bondi has been “swapping out and sidelining career supervisors who were responsible for charging crimes such as corruption, price fixing and securities fraud.” This reshuffling has coincided with the dropping of charges against figures like New York City Mayor Eric Adams, who had previously been indicted on bribery charges during the Biden administration. Reich argues that those who “try to get on Trump’s good side” often see their legal troubles vanish, especially if they have made donations to Trump’s initiatives and political action committees.
Big Tech corporations, once the target of federal investigations and enforcement actions, have also seen their cases quietly disappear after contributing to Trump’s causes. Earlier this year, the Department of Justice dropped its criminal case against Boeing, which had been tied to two fatal plane crashes that claimed 346 lives. This, despite Boeing previously agreeing to plead guilty in the case. The decision to let Boeing off the hook raised eyebrows and further fueled allegations that Trump’s administration is “soft on crime as long as the crime serves his own purposes,” as Reich put it.
Adding to the controversy is Trump’s own legal predicament. He was found guilty on all 34 counts of falsifying business records in the first degree, related to hush money payments made to Stormy Daniels before the 2016 presidential election. The conviction marked a historic first for a former U.S. president and has only intensified the partisan rancor surrounding Trump’s every move.
Yet, even as Trump faces his own legal challenges, he has gone on the offensive against other high-profile figures. On August 28, 2025, Trump publicly demanded the criminal prosecution of billionaire George Soros and his son Alexander under the federal RICO Act, a law designed to combat organized crime. In a fiery Truth Social post, Trump labeled Soros and his allies as “psychopaths” who have caused “great damage” to America. He accused their network of fueling violent protests, riots, and unrest across U.S. cities, vowing that they “will not be allowed to rip apart America.”
Trump’s accusations against Soros are nothing new, but the intensity and specificity of his recent claims mark a notable escalation. He tied Soros to the funding of Black Lives Matter and even linked him to the Russiagate narrative, suggesting a vast network of influence working against American interests. “Trump called George Soros and his allies 'psychopaths' and accused their network of causing great damage to America,” reported OneIndia on the day of Trump’s statement.
These attacks have drawn condemnation from a wide range of voices. Critics argue that Trump’s rhetoric not only stokes division but also distracts from his own record of pardons, commutations, and dropped prosecutions. Supporters, on the other hand, see Trump’s actions as a necessary counterbalance to what they perceive as left-wing lawlessness and elite impunity.
At the heart of the matter is a fundamental debate about justice, accountability, and the proper role of the federal government. Should the president wield the power to pardon and commute sentences as a tool for rewarding allies and punishing enemies? Is it appropriate for a former president found guilty of serious crimes to accuse others—without evidence—of being criminal masterminds responsible for unrest and violence?
For Democrats and others opposed to Trump, the answer is clear. They argue that the best response is not to simply recite crime statistics or deny that problems exist, but to emphasize the importance of local solutions and to spotlight Trump’s own record. “Say safety is critically important, but local police rather than federal troops are best at dealing with it,” Reich advised. He urged his party to “hammer Trump for pardoning the 1,500 criminals who violently attacked the United States Capitol” and for “opening the floodgates to white-collar crime.”
As the 2025 election cycle heats up, these issues are unlikely to fade. With Trump doubling down on his law-and-order persona while simultaneously shielding allies and targeting adversaries, the battle lines are drawn not just over crime policy, but over the very meaning of justice in America. The coming months will test whether voters buy into Trump’s narrative or see through what critics call a dangerous double standard.
Amid the noise and fury, one thing is certain: the fight over crime, justice, and political accountability will remain front and center in American life for the foreseeable future.
