Donald Trump is facing 88 criminal counts, covering four cases across three jurisdictions. The Republican’s first trial — an unprecedented development for a former American president — is poised to get underway in a few hours in New York City, with the start of jury selection.
Does this case constitute the most important charges against the GOP’s presumptive 2024 nominee? No, that label is probably best suited for the federal case involving Trump’s efforts to overturn the 2020 election — by my estimation, the most serious scandal in American history. Is the New York case the easiest to prove? Expert opinions vary, but I’d argue that the classified-documents case is, as one GOP senator conceded last summer, a “slam dunk” for prosecutors.
But of the four criminal cases pending against the former president, this case is the most decidedly Trumpian of the quartet: It involves a cast of unfortunate characters Trump surrounded himself with; it touches on the Republican’s tawdriness and penchant for adultery; and it helps highlight a politician who doesn’t think the rules apply to him and who appears to have taken steps to disregard legal limits in order to acquire power.
Now all we need is a way to describe the case.
It was inevitable that political and legal observers would come up with a shorthand phrase to talk about the scandal, and in general, many (including me) have routinely referred to the controversy as the “hush money” case. That said, as my MSNBC colleague Jordan Rubin explained, the phrase doesn’t fully capture the relevant details.
It’s been called the hush money case, but Donald Trump isn’t charged with paying hush money. It’s been called an election interference case, but that might not fully explain it, either. A more precise, if less concise, way to describe the case is that it’s about allegedly covering up a hush money scheme — or, allegedly covering up 2016 election interference.
Based on the evidence already filed by Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg’s office, a relatively straightforward picture has emerged. As Election Day 2016 approached, Trump and his political operation were concerned about the public learning about his alleged extramarital affair with a porn star who goes by the name Stormy Daniels. With those fears in mind, the then-candidate and his team created a shell company, which Trump’s fixer, Michael Cohen, used to pay off Daniels, effectively buying her silence.
Soon after, Trump, according to prosecutors, falsified business records while incrementally making payments to Cohen, reimbursing the lawyer for the scheme.
These are the same payments that ultimately sent Cohen to prison. (Federal prosecutors could’ve pursued a related case against the fixer’s former client, though they ultimately backed off for reasons that still warrant further explanation.)
Given all of this, should we be calling this a “falsifying business records” case? Maybe, though as Slate’s Mark Joseph Stern explained, even that phrase requires some additional context:








