By MArk R. Weaver
It's been a big week for Joe Biden's presidential pardons. He kicked it off by sparing a pair of turkeysand wrapped it up by gobbling up controversy, pardoning his son Hunter.
Biden had previously promised Americans he would not use his clemency power to shield his son from the two criminal cases against him. That pledge lasted about as long as Thanksgiving leftovers.
I've previously argued that, compared to the authority granted to all the other government actors at the federal, state, and local levels, the president's powers are limited. But the pardon power is among the strongest of a chief executive's tools.
Some founding fathers, including George Mason, worried about abuse. Mason even said a president might pardon someone just to cover up the president's involvement in that person's crimes. Given that the upcoming Hunter Biden trial for tax felonies may have included testimony about how and when the presidential son shared fees from questionable foreign sources with his father, Mason could've had a side gig as a soothsayer.
Yet the Constitutional Convention rejected those fears, and passed Article II, Section 2, which has no appeal provision for presidential pardons and the only limits are no pardons for impeachments or state crimes.
Alexander Hamilton defended the necessity of the pardon power in Federalist No. 74, calling it an essential component of justice. Yet, like a turkey carving knife, it can cut both ways. Those in blue jerseys cheering this move are likely to strongly oppose the purported pardon priorities of the next Trump term. Elections have consequences.
Pardons can unite the country. Exactly 161 years ago this week, Abraham Lincoln offered pardons to Confederates who swore allegiance to the Union and endorsed emancipation. A century or so later, President Jimmy Carter gave a blanket pardon to the draft dodgers who fled America after refusing to fight in the Vietnam War and President Gerald Ford pre-emptively pardoned his predecessor, Richard Nixon, in an effort to heal a country fraught with political animosity surrounding the Watergate scandal.
The peculiar instance of a president pardoning his son won't heal our national political wounds and might actively stoke the cynicism that's been in overdrive lately. And this pardon now means that any hope Joe Biden had of acquiring the post-presidential halo of the last Democratic one-term president, Jimmy Carter, is all but gone.
It didn't have to be this way. I was a lone voice calling on Biden to preemptively pardon former Trump to calm the roiling waters of American political opinion. I knew the idea wouldn't go anywhere, but I thought—then and now—it would have been an excellent exemplar of grace in a graceless arena.
In announcing the pardon, the president essentially claimed—without acknowledging the irony in his words—that the charges against this son were somehow trumped up by his own Justice Department. It's nonsense, of course.
In fact, rather than politically prosecuting the president's son, only an eagle-eyed federal judge reading the details of a proposed plea agreement stopped the Biden Justice Department from handing the younger Biden a creampuff deal that would have given him immunity largely similar to this pardon.
Biden was surely within his power to pardon Hunter, but the message it sends may be more dangerous than the train of presidential abuses we've come to expect from his administration. The decision suggests that being a Biden is the ultimate "get out of jail free" card.
The pardon power was meant to correct wrongs and offer hope. But hope isn't equally distributed when your last name matters. There's no national reconciliation to be had here, just a wayward son spared from the bracing legal accountability so many others have had to face.
Trust is the currency of any presidency. Break it, and your power to govern loses value faster than an indicted pyramid scheme. The founders assumed public outrage would act as a check on unjust pardons but, with the election over and Joe Biden already boxing up his things for the moving vans, angry Americans have no recourse. In an era of outrage overflow, this latest transgression will do little more than add to the disgust of those who presume the rules are different at the top.
The presidential pardon is a powerful tool, but it's tenuous. When used wisely, it rights wrongs and restores faith in government. When used poorly—as this one was—it crosses ethical lines that the Founders feared.
This reminds us that some things can be constitutional but not just. The way I heard it, when Lady Justice heard about the pardon for Hunter, she dropped the scales she'd been holding and reached for a stiff drink.
By trading credibility for kinship, the Constitution protects Biden today, but the harsh verdict of the ages will be unforgiving.
Mark R. Weaver is a prosecutor and formerly served as a Justice Department spokesman and Deputy Attorney General of Ohio. He is the author of "A Wordsmith's Work." X: @MarkRWeaver