Trump’s legal conspiracy (part one)

In June 2025, Donald Trump sent thousands of ICE agents into Los Angeles to show that he could carry out mass deportations in the national stronghold of the Latinx and immigrant rights movement. But mass militant action defeated Trump, and he was forced to withdraw most of his agents from LA.

Four months later, Trump sent his thugs into Chicago, another stronghold of the Latinx and immigrant rights movement, hoping for the decisive victory that had eluded him in LA. But once again, mass, militant action stopped him, and he was forced to withdraw most of his thugs from that city.

In September, Trump’s high command, such as it was, met to assess the lessons of LA and Chicago and to prepare for an even more massive attack to win the decisive victory that they still hoped for. As part of those discussions, they discussed the legal attacks that they used in LA and Chicago to weaken the movement by arresting, prosecuting, and jailing its leaders and militants, and formulated an even more draconian policy. Using Charlie Kirk’s death as a pretext, this policy was announced in the National Security Presidential Memorandum Number 7 (NSPM-7), which Trump signed on September 25, 2025.

In words that fall somewhere between those of Joe McCarthy and Adolph Hitler, NSPM-7 declared that the “attacks” on ICE officers” and the protests against ICE and the regime were the product of “sophisticated, organized campaigns of targeted intimidation, radicalization, threats and violence.” NSPM ordered the relevant federal agencies to investigate “all participants in these terroristic conspiracies” and “the networks, entities, organizations, funding sources and predicate actions behind them.” It directed the attorney general to devise a plan to arrest and prosecute the militants and “disband and uproot” the networks and organizations that had supported the “violence.”

In words, NSPM-7 targeted antifa, but its description of antifa made clear that it targeted the Left and the entire movement:

Common threads animating this violent conduct include anti-Americanism, anti-capitalism, and anti-Christianity; extremism on migration, race and gender; and hostility towards those who hold traditional American views on family, religion and morality.

Following the dictates of NSPM-7, Attorney General Pam Bondi directed the Justice Department, the FBI, and other federal law enforcement to attack the movement with every method that had been used against organized crime. She ordered all U.S. attorneys to charge “violent” protesters with the “most serious, readily provable offenses,” to refuse to offer pleas to lesser offenses, and, if a conviction resulted, to ask the court to impose the highest sentence permitted by law.1Trump’s order also ordered Bondi and other agency heads to act against non-profit and other organizations who supposedly encouraged the “violence.” The regime has recently published proposed regulations to do that, and while that attack is important, for reasons of space, this article does not address that question.

In words, NSPM-7 was the most serious legal attack on the Left and the progressive movement since Nixon’s COINTELPRO. In fact, its objectives went far beyond COINTELPRO, because a plan for ethnic cleansing backed up by a plan to “disband and uproot” the organizations that oppose the ethnic cleansing” is a distinctly fascist plan.

The threats represented in NSPM-7 are ominous, but while we must take them seriously, we cannot be mesmerized by Trump’s words. On many occasions, labor, civil rights, and other movements have defeated unjust prosecutions and rendered unjust laws unenforceable by organizing mass action against them. We must thus examine not only the words of the decree but whether the regime has the material means and the political support needed to carry out that decree.

On that crucial point, on the day Trump signed NSPM-7, large sections of the Latinx and immigrant communities and of the working and middle class already opposed ICE and Trump. They knew that Trump’s claim to be fighting “violence” was a lie because they had seen him pardon the 1600 thugs who had marauded through the Capitol and had seen him cheer on the right-wing terrorists who had murdered and threatened their way across the country. Most of all, they had seen ICE drag immigrants from homes and cars and beat them on the streets.

Soon, they saw much worse in Minneapolis, as countless videos showed ICE agents murder Renee Good and Alex Pretti, and the growing opposition also listened as Trump slandered the victims and announced that neither the federal nor the state governments would investigate those murders. Even more importantly, people saw mass resistance and the semi-general strike that forced Trump to withdraw most of his thugs from the city.

Ten months after Trump signed NSPM-7, his political support had dropped dramatically—and as that support fell, it had a dramatic effect on the regime’s ability to sustain the legal prosecutions it had filed under NSPM-7.

Trump had hoped that his prosecutions would force protesters to submit. In most places, however, the opposite occurred. Brave protesters, facing federal indictments for the first time in their lives, stood up. Despite burdens on their finances, health, families, and personal lives, they continued to fight as the legal proceedings dragged on. Defense committees sprang up to defend them, and lawyers came forward to help. Mistakes were made, and there will be time to evaluate those mistakes, but on a national scale, the overall effort defeated Trump’s plan to disrupt and uproot the movement.

Uneven outcomes

There were different outcomes in individual cases and in different areas. Since it is impossible to review each case and each area, this article will review the prosecutions in   Prairieland, Texas, where the movement was weak, and in LA, Chicago, and Minneapolis, where the movement was exceptionally strong.

As we will see, in Prairieland the policies of NSPM-7 led to one of the greatest legal outrages in U.S. history. In the main Prairieland trial, the federal government convicted ten people and sentenced them to a total of 450 years in prison for a ten-person demonstration in which common fireworks were set off, a few cars were vandalized, and a single protester may or may not have shot and wounded a police officer who was aiming his gun at another fleeing protester. Prairieland is the true face of Trumpism, and while it has not been exposed as fully as it should be, we will show the lies and the extreme brutality that the regime used to attack the movement.

As we will also see, there were very different results in LA, Chicago, and Minneapolis. In those cities, the regime arrested and indicted hundreds of protesters on various felony charges, but the movement against ICE and Trump in those cities penetrated deeply into the middle and working classes and thus into the overwhelming majority of those who served as grand jurors and jurors. As Trump bellowed out his usual threats, a silent rebellion grew in which the grand jurors, jurors, and even some judges rejected indictments, acquitted defendants, or dismissed the charges. That, in turn, led to prosecutors dismissing cases that they could not win. There were some convictions, but as defendant after defendant walked free, Trump’s threat to disrupt and uproot the movement turned into mere words.

The movement2In this article, the term “movement”  describes the more-or-less open protests and opposition to ICE. It is critical to recognize that there is another and much larger movement against ICE among the Latinx and other immigrant communities and specifically among the undocumented immigrants in those communities. That movement resists ICE in many ways, but it’s not possible to  record here the regime’s persecution of it because it is largely subsumed in the ICE arrests and deportation campaign which is shrouded in secrecy. needs to understand how the regime won its brutal victory in Prairieland and how it lost in LA, Chicago, and Minneapolis because the lessons learned are vital in the struggle against the pending indictments against anti-ICE protesters in Minneapolis and pro-Palestinian protesters in Detroit, and in what the movement must do to prevent and defend against the prosecutions that are yet to come.

While the defense of the movement is the key focus of this article, if one looks closely at these events, one can see Marx’s Old Mole at work as actions by jurors and grand jurors reflect the growing hatred and militance from key sections of the working class and the oppressed and their desire action to end all of Trump’s attacks and of the system that gave birth to those attacks.

The tools of repression

In her Memo, Bondi provided a list of 22 specific crimes that federal law enforcement and the U.S. attorneys must consider for any individual who fell within the sweeping scope of NSPM-7.

The most common of those charges were federal felonies for interference with federal agents and destruction of federal property. For decades, state and local governments have used comparable charges to attack various movements, but Bondi directed the U.S. attorneys to file federal charges because she and Trump wanted to inflict as much punishment as possible on activists who dared to fight against ICE and Trump.

In addition to those charges, Bondi’s list included three federal crimes that had been enacted in the past specifically to punish militants and other opponents of the regime.

The first such crime is “riot,” which carries a maximum sentence of five years, and which Congress had enacted in the dying days of the Johnson Administration to prosecute Black activists who had supposedly incited the great urban rebellions of the 1960s. As with most reactionary statutes, it was written broadly so that it could be used to prosecute anyone who incited and took an overt step towards creating a riot in any assembly where three or more people were present. As we will see, Bondi stretched that crime beyond its limit in the Prairiewood prosecutions.

The second such crime is “providing material support to a terrorist act,” which carries a maximum sentence of 15 years. Enacted after September 11, it was aimed at those who assisted in sending the jets into the Pentagon and the World Trade Center. As we will see, Bondi has stretched that crime beyond all recognition by charging the Prairieland protesters who set off fireworks—which contained about two tenths of a gram of gunpowder—with assisting a terrorist attack.

The third such crime is “conspiracy,” which has a reactionary history that stretches back to the early nineteenth century when it was used to prosecute labor unions and their officials. In essence, it says that if two or more persons agree to commit an unlawful act and one of them takes an act to further that agreement, any person in the conspiracy may be found guilty of any later unlawful act taken by another member of the conspiracy even if the person charged (a) had no role in that act (b) did not know the person who had committed that act, and (c) was not even present when that act occurred.

The three charges vastly increase the penalties that can be exacted for particular events, and all three of them authorize the regime to use informants, search warrants, grand juries and much else to rummage through public statements and private conversations to find random statements—including statements about a person’s political beliefs—that can be stitched together to prove intent to incite a riot or to provide aid to terrorism or a conspiracy to obstruct ICE.

In a trial on any of those charges, the judge will instruct the jury that an individual has the right to their own beliefs but will then say that to incite a riot, provide “material support” to terrorists, or agree with others to interfere with ICE extends beyond protected beliefs. As the line between protected beliefs and unprotected action is nebulous at best, the government will turn a trial on any of these charges into an attack upon the beliefs of the defendant and of any organization with which the defendant is associated.

The nightmare in Prairieland

The best way to describe the danger posed by NPSM-7 and the charges issued under its authorization is to tell the story of the horror that decree inflicted upon twenty-two people who were associated with a July 4 protest in front of ICE’s North Texas Detention Facility (“Prairieland”).

The ten protesters who were the central defendants in these cases did not tell their story in court because the defense decided not to call any witnesses. They believed that the prosecution’s case had been weak. The protesters, however, gave a detailed account of the events to a prize-winning reporter from the Texas Monthly. What follows is a summary of  the events based on his report and on reports from others who have reported on  the Prairieland cases.

The Prairieland facility is in Alvarado, Texas, a rural and ex-urban town of 8,000 located 35 miles south of the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex, where over 8 million people live. The ten protesters included Latinx and white people, many of whom were gay or trans. They lived in Dallas-Fort Worth; most were members of the Emma Goldman Book Club, the Socialist Rifle Association, and similar organizations; and all were part of the anarchist and left milieu.

In July 2025, they were angered by Trump’s attack on Los Angeles and discussed what they could do to assist undocumented immigrants in Texas. They soon settled on a plan to hold a noise demonstration outside Prairieland. They purchased some Roman candles and fireworks to make noise, scheduled the protest for 10:30 P.M. on July 4, and publicized the event on a Signal chat. Because Texas is an open-carry state with a large Klan presence, they decided to bring rifles, including AR-15s, for defense, but everyone agreed that the weapons would remain in the cars unless there was an armed threat.

After a short stop for some target practice and instructions on what to do in the event of an attack, they arrived at an assembly point near the ICE facility at about 10:00 P.M. Leaving the weapons in the cars, they walked towards Prairieland carrying the fireworks in a cooler. Unknown to most of the protesters, however, Benjamin Song, a former Marine reservist, remained behind and stood outside the grounds of the facility with an AR-15, which he planned to use if there was an attack on the protest.

At about 10:30 p.m. some of the other protesters began to set off Roman candles and other fireworks outside the security fence around the building. Not surprisingly, ICE officials in the facility called the local police. Two ICE employees also came out, saw the protesters, and asked them to leave. Many did just that. While most would agree that the entire event was an ill-advised and risky plan, to this point, no one had violated any state or federal law other than perhaps an unenforced local ordinance on the use of fireworks.

At some point, however, two protesters broke into a parking lot and began to spray-paint anti-ICE slogans on a guard shack and a few vehicles. As the two ICE agents outside the building pursued the two spray painters, a local police officer arrived. Knowing nothing about what had occurred, he immediately saw the smoke and two unknown individuals running by his car, one of whom wore a mask and was dressed in black. As he got out of his car, he drew his Glock and pointed it at the fleeing individuals, one of whom was a protester and the other of whom was an ICE employee chasing the protester. Holding his AR-15, Song appeared a distance away in the opposite direction. Suddenly, Song and the officer fired their weapons, and the officer was hit by a projectile in his upper left shoulder.

By this point, it is essentially undisputed that the two protesters  had broken federal law by damaging federal property. Far more seriously,  Song may have committed far more serious crimes if, as the prosecutor claimed, Song had shot at the officer for no reason. But if, as  Song claimed, he had shot in a different direction to distract the officer and the officer was unintentionally hit by a shot from his rifle or from the officer’s Glock, he may not have committed any federal crimes. In any event, there is no claim that any of the other nine people, some of whom had left the scene, had personally done anything unlawful.

But as other local, state, and federal police officers arrived at the scene, they arrested the protesters who were still on foot, those who had reached their cars, and those who had driven a short distance away from the scene. As the officers searched the cars, they found other weapons, bulletproof vests, and anarchist literature. In the following days, the local police and the FBI searched the homes of those who had been arrested, and they arrested and searched the homes of anyone who had communicated with those who had been arrested. Six days later, the police arrested Song. In total, the FBI, ICE, and the state and local police arrested and charged 22 people with various state and federal offenses.

From the initial arrest forward, the local police, the FBI, most of the media, the governor, and the Justice Department claimed that the ten protesters had used fireworks to lure ICE officials out of the building where the protesters could ambush them. Acting on the ambush theory, the state charged all ten people at the scene with assault on a police officer, organized criminal activity, and aiding in the commission of terrorism. The federal government charged all ten with attempted murder of two ICE officers and of the local police officer. And the Department of Homeland Security issued and widely publicized a statement that said that “On Independence Day, a group of approximately 15 rioters violently attacked and shot at the brave law enforcement operating ICE Prairieland Detention Center that houses monsters including pedophiles, human traffickers, murderers, and terrorists.”

This case was almost tailor-made for NSPM-7. In October, the federal government obtained an indictment that charged all ten protesters with inciting a riot, providing material support to terrorists, conspiring to use an explosive in a criminal act (i.e., the fireworks), and using that explosive in the commission of that crime.The case went to trial in February before an extremely conservative judge who had been appointed by Trump. To prove its case, the U.S. attorney paraded across the stand every officer who had been near the scene and introduced into evidence every AR-15 and bulletproof vest that had been found. Snatching every stray remark that it could find, the government said the ten protesters had all been part of the plot to ambush ICE officers and local police.From the beginning, however, there were significant holes in the heart of the government’s case. How could this all have been a plot to assassinate officers when the protesters had almost cordial conversations with the two ICE officers who had left the building? And why did many protesters leave due to that conversation? Likewise, how could this event have been a plot to ambush officers, when all but one of the protesters left their weapons in their cars, and none had even attempted to retrieve those weapons? And how could all ten be guilty of inciting a riot when the only persons whom they could “incite” were two ICE officers and a local police officer? And how could any protester other than Song be guilty of attempted murder of the two ICE officers or the local police officer when they had not even been near Song when he shot his rifle? As to Song himself, there were other questions, but to all of them the prosecution had only one answer.

These defendants, it said, were all anarchists. Even though none of the literature or the chats had ever mentioned the name “North Texas Anti-Fascist Cell”—and even though there was no evidence that a group by that name even existed—the prosecutors insisted that every protester was a member of that group. In any event, all of them  (or at least most of them) wore black, used an encrypted messaging service (Signal), and used various names on that service. And if that was not enough to show that they planned serious breaches of the law, all (or maybe most) of them were members of the Emma Goldman Book Club.

To fill in any blanks left by that presentation, the prosecution called as an “expert” an individual who worked for a security center which the Southern Poverty Law Center had called an anti-Muslim hate group. The judge allowed the “expert” to read inflammatory passages from Goldman, similar passages from various anarchist zines found in the defendants’ cars or homes, and from stickers with headlines like “Make America Not Exist Again” and “Fight ICE with class war.” The judge also allowed the expert to testify to what other “anarchists” had done in other anti-ICE protests elsewhere in the county and to read to the jury the definition of anarchism and terrorism from NSPM-7, which the President himself had signed.

If all that was not enough, the prosecution sprinkled in references that some of the protesters were gay and others were transgender, and that was why some of the defendants used “aliases.”

While the judge let all that in, he rejected key claims on behalf of Song. As stated, Song claimed that he had shot in a different direction and that the officer must have been hit by a ricochet. But when it was revealed in testimony that an officer had found ballistic evidence that suggested that a shot had ricocheted off a nearby pavement, the judge refused to dismiss the case against Song even though the prosecution had not revealed that crucial fact to the defense until the middle of the trial.

Despite those rulings, as a matter of logic, the government had presented an exceptionally weak case against Song but even more so against the other nine people. But the problem was that the prosecution’s multi-faceted political diatribe—which amplified what the media, the police, the governor, and the president had long been saying—overrode logic. The jury found everyone who had been at the protest guilty of inciting a riot, providing material support to terrorism, and conspiracy to use an explosive device during a crime. It also found Song guilty of attempted murder of the local officer, although it acquitted him of the charge that he had attempted to murder the two ICE officers, and significantly, acquitted the other nine defendants of the charge that they had aided or abetted Song in shooting at the officer.

At the prosecution’s request, the court sentenced Song to 100 years in prison, the other persons who had been present to 50 years, and a person who had not been present but who had removed a box of zines from a home to 30 years. Following the sentencing, the U.S. Attorney issued a public statement praising Trump’s NSPM and bragging that his office had convicted a total of “15 Prairieland terrorists” who were sentenced to a total of 556 years in prison.

The Prairieland trials were held in Fort Worth, Texas, but they should have been held in Salem, Massachusetts, a  city historically associated with convicting people because of who they supposedly were and what they supposedly believed.

The Prairieland trial was a poster child for NSPM-7 and showed what the Trump regime would do to destroy opposition to its program of mass deportations and to maintain Trump’s power and money. Freeing the Prairieland defendants must be a key task of our movement.

Part two of this article will take up Trump’s reversals in Southern California and the Midwest.

Opinions expressed in signed articles do not necessarily represent the views of the editors or the Tempest Collective. For more information, see “About Tempest Collective.”
Featured Image credit: U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement; modified by Tempest.