On an autumn week in November 2025, President Donald Trump wielded his pardon power with a flourish, granting clemency to a handful of convicted public officials and a former police sergeant ensnared in an international intrigue. The decisions, which drew both celebration and consternation, have reignited debate over the reach and intent of presidential pardons—especially when they benefit political allies or those caught in the crosshairs of complex international disputes.
Among those pardoned was Michael McMahon, a former New York Police Department sergeant whose life took a sharp turn after his involvement in an effort linked to China’s "Operation Fox Hunt." According to The Guardian, McMahon, who had once earned dozens of commendations during his 14-year NYPD career, was convicted in June 2023 of acting as an illegal foreign agent and interstate stalking. The charges stemmed from his role in a campaign to pressure Xu Jin, a Chinese dissident and former Wuhan official, to return to China—a campaign the U.S. government has characterized as "transnational repression."
McMahon, who insisted on his innocence throughout the ordeal, maintained that he believed he was working for a Chinese construction company and that he "did everything by the book as a licensed private investigator." At his sentencing, he declared, "I never thought for one minute I was working for China, stalking anyone." His attorney, Lawrence Lustberg, told The Guardian, "I will always believe that it was the Chinese government that victimized Mike, a true hero cop, whom our government should have celebrated and honored, rather than indicted."
The federal case against McMahon was the first U.S. trial targeting participants in "Operation Fox Hunt," a Chinese government initiative aimed at repatriating fugitives and dissidents. Prosecutors alleged that McMahon was paid over $19,000 to surveil Xu Jin’s family in New Jersey, including monitoring Xu’s sister-in-law’s home during a visit from Xu’s elderly father—an incident designed to pressure the dissident. The campaign escalated to the point where Xu’s wife found a chilling note on their front door: "If you are willing to go back to the mainland and spend 10 years in prison, your wife and children will be all right. That’s the end of this matter!" Xu testified that this marked the moment when "it had become a physical threat."
Despite prosecutors’ request for a seven-year sentence, McMahon was sentenced in April 2025 to 18 months behind bars. He was released to a halfway house earlier this year and returned home to New Jersey on the day of his pardon. The push for his release was championed by his wife, Martha Byrne—a veteran actress—and Republican Representatives Mike Lawler and Pete Sessions. Lawler wrote on X, "Thank you @POTUS for pardoning Mike McMahon—a decorated NYPD Officer and 9/11 First Responder who never should have been prosecuted to begin with."
White House officials, speaking anonymously to The Guardian, echoed McMahon’s defense, emphasizing that he had been "unwittingly used" and pointing to his exemplary service record. The Brooklyn-based federal prosecutors’ office declined to comment on the pardon.
But McMahon’s case was just one in a series of high-profile pardons issued by Trump in early November. On Thursday, November 6, Trump also pardoned former Tennessee House Speaker Glen Casada and his ex-chief of staff, Cade Cothren, both convicted in September 2025 on corruption charges involving wire fraud and attempted money laundering. NBC News and the Associated Press reported that Casada was sentenced to three years in prison, while Cothren received two and a half years.
Their convictions arose from a scheme to secure taxpayer-funded mail business for lawmakers through a fictitious company—"Matthew Phoenix"—created by Cothren with Casada’s support. Prosecutors said the company was a front, with Casada’s then-girlfriend even posing as an associate. The companies involved received about $52,000 in taxpayer funds in 2020. This all came after Casada resigned as speaker in 2019 following a no-confidence vote over various scandals, including the exchange of sexually explicit and racist text messages, and Cothren’s admission to cocaine use in a legislative office.
A White House official, defending the pardons, told NBC News that the Biden Department of Justice had "significantly over-prosecuted these individuals for a minor issue involving constituent mailers—billed at competitive prices, never received a complaint from legislators, and resulted in a net profit loss of less than $5,000." The official added that the prosecution involved "an armed raid, perp walk, and suggested sentences exceeding 10 years—penalties normally reserved for multimillion-dollar fraudsters."
Casada, in a statement to WSMV in Nashville, expressed gratitude: "Yes, the president called me today and granted me a full pardon. I am grateful of his trust and his full confidence in my innocence through this whole ordeal."
Trump’s pardons for Casada and Cothren are part of a larger pattern. As The Associated Press observed, Trump has repeatedly used his executive clemency powers to benefit political allies and prominent public figures convicted of defrauding the public. Past recipients include former Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich and ex-Connecticut Governor John Rowland, both of whom were convicted on corruption charges. Notably, Trump also recently commuted the sentence of George Santos, the former Republican representative from New York convicted of fraud, and pardoned convicted crypto investor Changpeng Zhao, a figure with ties to the Trump family’s cryptocurrency interests.
Public reaction to these pardons has been mixed, with many Americans expressing skepticism about the president’s motivations. An October YouGov/Economist poll cited by NBC News found that broad majorities opposed pardons for Santos and Zhao. Critics argue that the president’s actions undermine accountability for public officials and erode the integrity of the justice system, while supporters claim the prosecutions were politically motivated and excessively punitive.
All the while, the White House has maintained that these clemencies are justified corrections of overzealous prosecutions, especially in cases where the financial impact was minimal or where, as in McMahon’s case, the defendant’s intent and understanding were in question. Yet, as Trump’s second term continues, the debate over the limits and appropriateness of presidential pardons shows no sign of abating. The stories of McMahon, Casada, and Cothren highlight both the power of the presidency and the persistent tensions at the intersection of justice, politics, and public trust.
For those at the center of these legal storms, the presidential pardon has offered a dramatic turn of fate—one that leaves the nation pondering the true meaning of justice and mercy in the American political landscape.
