In Donald Trump’s Washington, no slight is too small, no grudge too old, and no law firm too sacred to escape the blast zone. Over the past weeks, the former president has issued a string of executive orders zeroing in on top-tier legal powerhouses—Jenner & Block, Paul Weiss, Perkins Coie, Covington & Burling—each one with a not-so-coincidental link to someone who once crossed him.
Forget institutional policy. This is personal.
At the heart of the latest move: Andrew Weissmann, a former prosecutor with Robert Mueller’s team and ex-partner at Jenner & Block. Trump’s order, signed with a flourish at the White House, came paired with a simple declaration: “He’s a bad guy.”
Paul Weiss was previously in the crosshairs too, thanks to former partner Mark Pomerantz—an attorney tied to investigations into Trump’s finances. That order was later dropped, reportedly after behind-the-scenes maneuvering. But the warning shot was clear.
Perkins Coie caught heat for its connections to the infamous Fusion GPS dossier and Hillary Clinton’s 2016 campaign. Trump hasn’t let go of that narrative. At a court hearing earlier this month, a federal judge noted the former president’s fixation: “He really has a bee in his bonnet about it.”
These aren’t idle swipes. Trump’s orders come with teeth—revoking security clearances, locking firms out of government contracts, and restricting access to federal officials. It’s a chilling message to the broader legal world: Back me, or beware.
Twenty Democratic attorneys general have fired back in an open letter, slamming the orders as a direct assault on the legal system. They warn that Trump’s tactics are meant to intimidate and silence anyone willing to challenge him in court.
“This isn’t about policy differences,” said Pomerantz in a statement. “It’s about crushing dissent.”
Trump, meanwhile, insists he’s simply evening the score with a legal establishment he claims has been weaponized against him. In a recent Fox News interview, he promised more action: “We’ve got a lot of law firms we’re going after.”
Marc Elias, a former Perkins Coie partner and longtime Democratic lawyer, was also singled out—accused in a Trump memo of “grossly unethical misconduct” tied to the dossier. Elias didn’t flinch. “I wear his scorn like a badge of honor,” he posted online.
Even Jack Smith, the special counsel prosecuting Trump in two federal criminal cases, has become legal collateral. Smith’s representation by Covington & Burling prompted another narrowly targeted order.
Behind closed doors, Big Law is on high alert. Lawyers with even tangential links to Trump’s myriad legal entanglements are scattered across nearly every major firm in D.C. and beyond. And the message from the top is unmistakable: loyalty has consequences, and so does defiance.
Richard Primus, a constitutional law professor and former Jenner & Block lawyer, puts it bluntly: “This is a revenge campaign. He’s using the presidency to punish perceived enemies.”
Trump’s critics say his aim isn’t justice—it’s submission. To Trump, opposition isn’t part of a functioning democracy. It’s treason.
And in his second term, it seems, the courtroom isn’t just where Trump defends himself—it’s where he plans to settle old scores.
