A sentence without punishment ensures that Trump will take office as a felon

A sentence without punishment ensures that Trump will take office as a felon

With his arms folded and a scowl on his face, President-elect Donald J. Trump avoided prison but became a felon.

Mr. Trump appeared virtually for his sentencing hearing on Friday from his Mar-a-Lago estate in Florida, more than 1,000 miles from the chilly Manhattan courtroom where his case was heard one final time. Projected on a 60-inch screen, his image loomed over the gallery as a prosecutor recounted his crimes and a judge handed down his sentence.

Mr. Trump once faced up to four years in prison for falsifying business records to cover up a sex scandal, but on Friday he received only a so-called unconditional discharge. The sentence, a rare and lenient alternative to prison or probation, reflected the practical and constitutional impossibility of sending an elected president to prison.

Still, it had symbolic significance, capping a years-long ordeal that engulfed Mr. Trump as a weary nation reckoning with the prospect of a criminal president. Once the conviction was complete, it cemented his status as the first felon to occupy the Oval Office.

“Never before have such unique and remarkable circumstances been presented to this court,” said trial judge Juan M. Merchan, who has felt the brunt of Mr. Trump’s anger over the case for the past two years. “This was a truly extraordinary case.”

It was also “a bit paradoxical,” he said, since the somber ritual of condemnation testified to both the supremacy and the limits of the president’s power.

The fact that the trial took place at all — despite Mr. Trump’s desperate efforts to end it — showed that the man preparing to retake the highest office in the land was not entirely above the law. The machinery of the New York justice system briefly embarrassed him, albeit in the comfort of his Florida mansion.

But nearly every detail of the highly scripted session demonstrated the defendant’s uniqueness: the months-long delays, the virtual appearance and the largely inconsequential verdict. His critics were denied the catharsis of seeing a handcuffed former president heading to Rikers Island.

Judge Merchan explained the leniency by recognizing Mr. Trump’s inauguration in 10 days and concluding that an unconditional dismissal was the only way to avoid “interference with the highest office in the land.”

A conditional discharge would have required Mr. Trump to meet certain conditions, such as maintaining employment or paying compensation, but that sentence is unconditional. No other Manhattan defendant convicted of Mr. Trump’s crime has received unconditional release in the past decade or so, court records show.

“It is the legal protections afforded to the office of president of the United States that are exceptional, not whoever holds the office,” said Judge Merchan, wearing a gold tie and his usual judicial robe, adding that these protective measures were a… “legal mandate” that he had to respect.

It was Mr. Trump’s final courtroom argument as a private citizen, a final example of the legal problems that have plagued him since he left the White House.

The verdict paved the way for Mr. Trump to formally appeal his conviction, an effort that will coincide with the start of his second term as president.

The president-elect, sitting next to one of his lawyers in front of two towering American flags, was relatively subdued, occasionally staring at the screen and shaking his head.

“This was a very terrible experience,” Mr. Trump said during a six-minute speech. “The fact is that I am completely innocent,” he added, describing the case as “an injustice to justice.”

He reiterated the primacy of his election victory over the jury’s verdict, telling Judge Merchan that voters “followed the case in your courtroom, saw this firsthand, and then voted.”

But in reality, the trial was not easily accessible to the general public. Instead, it was disseminated by reporters to a bipartisan electorate in a fragmented media environment. Voters’ views of the process often reflected their political leanings.

The case arose in connection with a 2016 hush-money payment to a porn star, Stormy Daniels, who sold her story of a sexual encounter with Mr. Trump. Had she gone public, Ms. Daniels might have sparked a scandal in the final days of Mr. Trump’s presidential campaign.

The jury concluded that Mr. Trump reimbursed his fixer, Michael D. Cohen, for the hush money and then ordered records to be falsified to keep the payment secret.

Mr. Trump sought to downplay the significance of the allegations, calling them a “pathetic” waste of taxpayer money. Nevertheless, he fought vigorously to prevent the conviction. His lawyers pleaded with Judge Merchan, rushed to an appeals court and pleaded with the Supreme Court to intervene.

The defendant’s argument was based on his claim that he was, in fact, above the law. His lawyers argued that Mr. Trump was entitled to immunity from prosecution after being elected president. They pointed to a Supreme Court ruling last year that granted presidents broad immunity for official acts.

None of it worked. Late Thursday, the Supreme Court refused to intervene.

For Manhattan District Attorney Alvin L. Bragg, law enforcement was a career-defining endeavor. Mr. Bragg, who has spoken little publicly about the trial since a post-conviction news conference, was present at the sentencing but made no comment.

But even though it was Mr. Bragg who prosecuted Mr. Trump and Judge Merchan who convicted him, they did not convict him. Mr. Trump’s trial in May culminated in one of the country’s oldest democratic traditions: a jury of his fellow officials decided his fate. Twelve New Yorkers voted guilty on all 34 counts.

On Friday, the judge said that regardless of Mr. Trump’s power and celebrity, “once the courtroom doors were closed, the trial itself was no more special, unique or extraordinary than the other 32 trials taking place in this courthouse at the exact same time.” ” Time.”

A prosecutor, Joshua Steinglass, summarized the “overwhelming evidence” presented at the trial and said that formalizing Mr. Trump’s criminal status would respect the jury’s verdict.

Even though prosecutors had recommended unconditional dismissal, Mr. Steinglass still criticized Mr. Trump. “Rather than express any kind of remorse for his criminal conduct, the defendant intentionally fomented contempt for our institutions and the rule of law,” Mr. Steinglass said.

Mr. Trump, he added, “has done lasting damage to the public’s perception of the criminal justice system and put the court’s officials in danger” – a reference to his relentless attacks on prosecutors and judges.

The rebuke marked a sharp contrast to Trump’s experience at the always-sunny Mar-a-Lago, where he has basked since his election victory and lined up a parade of supporters to vie for his favor.

And it was a notable exception to his legal stroke of luck. A year ago he was faced with 91 crimes in four criminal cases. Two of these cases have now disappeared and one is in disarray.

The federal special counsel who brought two of the cases dropped both after the election, bowing to a long-standing Justice Department policy that prohibits the prosecution of sitting presidents.

Those cases raised some of the most serious allegations a president can face: One in Florida accused Mr. Trump of mishandling classified documents, while the other in Washington focused on his efforts to disrupt the president’s peaceful transfer of power.

And in Georgia, where Trump is accused of trying to overturn the state’s 2020 election results, an appeals court has disqualified the local prosecutor and postponed the case indefinitely.

The Manhattan case was the only one of the four to make it to trial, a seven-week trial packed with intimate details of a sex scandal and tearful testimony from a former top aide.

The 33-minute condemnation was a muted epilogue. Judge Merchan had signaled in advance that he intended to grant an unconditional discharge, removing much of the tension from the proceedings.

A former prosecutor known for his law-and-order bent, he had steered the case through political and legal minefields, dangerously balancing the competing demands of the country’s first criminal trial of a former president.

Before and during the trial, he noted that he was keenly aware of and protective of Mr. Trump’s rights, but also committed to “impartially applying the rules of law.”

Ultimately, these principles collided in sentencing, providing a measure of accountability without inflicting much pain.

The judge had repeatedly delayed sentencing to give Mr. Trump a chance to appeal his conviction and complete his presidential campaign. After Mr. Trump won the election, Judge Merchan froze the ruling again.

Last week, Judge Merchan put an end to the delays and scheduled sentencing for Friday, although there was no threat of jail time or the requirement to appear in person.

Despite the special treatment, Mr. Trump and his lawyers have railed against Judge Merchan and his family since the trial began. In the past two years, Mr. Trump tried three times to oust the judge, claiming he couldn’t be fair because his daughter was a Democratic political adviser.

He repeated that line of attack on social media Friday, calling Judge Merchan a “very conflicted judge.”

But Judge Merchan did not use the sentencing to respond immediately. Instead, he simply said goodbye to Mr. Trump after calmly explaining the reasoning behind the ruling.

“Sir, I wish you every success in your second term,” he said and left the bench.

Wesley Parnell, Maggie Haberman And Nate Schweber contributed to reporting.

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