Inside
the Deal to Drop Trump’s $10 Billion Suit Against the I.R.S.
Discussions
among a group of lawyers with allegiance to the president were closely held.
Some senior White House officials were said to have felt blindsided as the
agreement took shape.
An
agreement to set up a $1.8 billion fund to pay people deemed to have been
harmed by government “weaponization” and to grant tax benefits to President
Trump, his family and businesses was brokered by a tight-knit group of lawyers.
Alan
Feuer Andrew
Duehren Glenn
Thrush Ben
Protess Maggie
Haberman
By Alan
FeuerAndrew DuehrenGlenn ThrushBen Protess and Maggie Haberman
May 30,
2026
https://www.nytimes.com/2026/05/30/us/politics/trump-irs-lawsuit-deal.html
Time was
running out.
President
Trump had sued the I.R.S. for $10 billion, and a federal judge was pressing the
Justice Department to explain how it could muster an independent defense of the
agency against the man who ultimately controlled it.
Behind
the scenes, the job of addressing the vexing problem of how to settle the suit
fell to a tight-knit group of lawyers, all of whom had allegiance to Mr. Trump.
On one
side of the talks was a Justice Department run by Todd Blanche, the acting
attorney general who once served as Mr. Trump’s criminal defense lawyer.
On the
other were the president’s private lawyers, among them Boris Epshteyn, who was
a former client of Mr. Blanche’s. Mr. Epshteyn played a significant role in
moving forward the deal to end the suit, coordinating and holding discussions
with all of the sides involved: Mr. Trump, the president’s personal lawyers and
Justice Department officials, according to multiple people familiar with the
matter.
The
discussions were so closely held that some senior White House officials told
others that they were blindsided, learning of them only once the agreement was
nearly complete.
In the
end, the lawyers’ solution did not give Mr. Trump what his lawsuit had
demanded, which was simply to move funds from the Treasury Department into his
own pocket. But the agreement that was reached was still a big victory for the
president and his allies: It set up a $1.8 billion fund to pay people deemed to
have been harmed by so-called government “weaponization” — possibly including
hundreds of rioters charged with storming the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021 — and
released Mr. Trump and his businesses from potentially costly I.R.S. audits.
This
article is based on interviews with more than a dozen people who discussed
internal deliberations about the I.R.S. suit on the condition of anonymity.
The White
House did not respond to requests for comment. Mr. Epshteyn declined to
comment.
A
spokeswoman for the Justice Department said that anyone who believed they were
a victim of government weaponization could apply for money from the fund,
claiming that many people had been victimized by the Biden administration.
Much is
still unknown about how the arrangement came about. But the plan drafted by a
group of Trump allies posed conflicts of interest that are remarkable, even for
an administration riddled with them.
As
questions have mounted about the nature of the deal, the federal judge who
oversaw the lawsuit, Kathleen M. Williams, took the extraordinary step on
Friday of revisiting the case, asking whether the parties had deceived her.
When the
details of the agreement were first revealed two weeks ago, Democrats and
former government officials lodged accusations of corruption and self-dealing,
and even some Republicans reacted with scornful disbelief. Some G.O.P. senators
were so angry they abandoned plans to approve a measure to finance the
administration’s immigration crackdown.
Within
days of the agreement becoming public, and before the judge raised questions
about it, senior administration officials began preparing to get rid of the
fund amid the intense blowback. Those discussions were reported earlier by The
Wall Street Journal.
But while
the agreement appeared to have emerged abruptly, it fused two ideas that had
been kicking around in Mr. Trump’s circle for years: a desire by him and his
family to avoid extensive tax audits, and a longing by his allies to obtain
financial restitution for legal wrongs they claimed to have suffered during the
Biden administration.
In its
broad strokes, the plan was in keeping with other maneuvers by Mr. Trump. As
president, he has often used the levers of power at his command to serve
himself at a moment when he still maintains control over the government,
including having the United States accept a $400 million luxury jet from Qatar
that he could fly as president and intend to take later. But in establishing a
fund that would involve billions in taxpayer money, the deal stands alone.
The
president himself has said little about how the agreement came together or who
played a role in resolving the suit, which faulted the I.R.S. for the leak of
his tax information to The New York Times during his first term. The closest he
has come in recent days was a post on social media in which he declared that he
had given up “a lot of money” by “allowing” the fund to be created.
“I could
have settled my case, including the illegal release of my Tax Returns and the
equally illegal BREAK IN of Mar-a-Lago, for an absolute fortune,” Mr. Trump
wrote. “Instead, I am helping others, who were so badly abused by an evil,
corrupt, and weaponized Biden Administration, receive, at long last, JUSTICE!”
Trump v.
Trump
Mr.
Trump’s lawsuit against the I.R.S. landed at the Justice Department with a thud
in late January.
By early
spring, lawyers there were already wrestling with the legal dilemma the
president’s pleading had created.
After
all, to defend the I.R.S. against Mr. Trump, the department would have to fight
a sitting president who was technically in charge of the agency and who
demanded total loyalty from his subordinates.
Department
lawyers were not the only ones who had identified this problem. Judge Williams,
an Obama appointee who sits in Miami, had also homed in on it, wondering
whether there was actually a conflict to adjudicate, given that Mr. Trump was
effectively on both sides of the suit.
The suit
contended that the I.R.S. had not done enough to prevent a contractor for the
agency, Charles Littlejohn, from leaking to the news media reams of Mr. Trump’s
tax information, along with the returns of hundreds of other very wealthy
Americans during the president’s first term in office. Even though Mr.
Littlejohn was prosecuted by the Biden administration and sentenced to five
years in prison, Mr. Trump argued he was owed $10 billion by the I.R.S.
At first,
there was a hope inside the Justice Department that lawyers would respond to
the suit with a procedural maneuver to side step or delay the case. One option
department lawyers quietly discussed was to ask Judge Williams to put the suit
on hold until after Mr. Trump left office.
But that
never happened. And it left Mr. Blanche and his team in a tight spot: They did
not want the Justice Department to go into court and fight the suit, as it
normally would, but also did not want to settle it by paying Mr. Trump
directly, according to people familiar with their thinking.
Ending
the case by funneling taxpayer money straight to the president struck them as
politically untenable. Some department officials even worried that doing so
could, under a future Democratic administration, expose them to a criminal
investigation of conspiracy to defraud the government.
Inside
the I.R.S., the suit was treated more or less as business as usual, even though
the plaintiff was the president. Lawyers at the agency followed normal
procedures for responding to claims and prepared a 25-page memo for the Justice
Department, outlining their views of the case.
In the
memo, the I.R.S. recommended that the department move to dismiss the suit,
pointing to two main problems: It had been filed too late and had wrongly
blamed the I.R.S. for the actions of Mr. Littlejohn.
I.R.S.
officials sent the memo to colleagues in the Treasury Department but it remains
unclear whether those Treasury officials ever passed it on to the Justice
Department. In fact, no Trump administration lawyer responded to the
president’s suit at all — or even made an appearance on the court docket.
What
finally pushed Judge Williams into action was a request on April 17 from one of
Mr. Trump’s private lawyers, Alejandro Brito — not from a government lawyer —
to delay all proceedings in the case for three months. A week later, the judge
effectively ordered the Justice Department to tell her whether it intended to
defend the I.R.S., giving the department until May 20 to provide an answer.
The
pressure of that deadline set off a scramble, as lawyers on both sides of the
suit started looking for a way to resolve the case and avoid further scrutiny
from the judge.
Central
in the negotiations was Trent McCotter, Mr. Blanche’s senior deputy and a
rising star in the department, according to people familiar with the talks. He
served as one of the administration’s chief interlocutors with personal lawyers
in Mr. Trump’s orbit, including Daniel Epstein, who often works with Mr.
Epshteyn and once served as a special assistant to Mr. Trump during his first
term in the White House.
Ultimately,
the discussions about settling the I.R.S. suit were combined with talks about
ending two other unusual claims previously filed by Mr. Epstein, who works for
America First Legal, the outside group co-founded in 2021 by Stephen Miller,
Mr. Trump’s powerful White House adviser. Those claims demanded that the
Justice Department pay the president about $230 million in compensation for the
investigation into possible ties between Russia and his 2016 campaign, as well
as the well-publicized F.B.I. search of Mr. Trump’s Mar-a-Lago estate for
classified documents in 2022.
The idea
that emerged was a global settlement of all of the claims that would push Mr.
Trump away from the politically damaging effort to take money for himself.
Instead it would create a fund for his allies and supporters — including the
pardoned Jan. 6 rioters — who believed they had been wronged in the courts by
previous Democratic administrations.
Mr.
McCotter proposed a patriotic marketing gimmick, setting the fund’s amount at
the symbolic sum of $1.776 billion, according to people familiar with the idea.
Still, it
was not entirely a new idea.
In
mid-2025, Ed Martin, a longtime advocate for the Jan. 6 rioters who was leading
the Justice Department’s pardon office and a special working group intended to
counteract government weaponization, had proposed a plan to address what he
believed was mistreatment of Trump supporters by the legal system, according to
people familiar with the matter. Mr. Martin envisioned a “truth commission” of
sorts that would assess accusations of misconduct by the Justice Department and
possibly make payouts to worthy claimants.
He even
floated the idea to senior administration officials like Robert F. Kennedy Jr.,
the health and human services secretary who has long complained that Americans
were harmed by the government’s response to Covid-19, according to a person
with direct knowledge of the exchange.
Mr.
Blanche, who has often clashed with Mr. Martin, rejected the idea, the person
said. But with the May 20 deadline quickly approaching, the Justice Department,
at Mr. McCotter’s urging, came up with its own plan to redress the supposed
past wrongs suffered by the president’s supporters.
The plan
was closely based on an Obama-era case called Keepseagle v. Vilsack, a
class-action lawsuit that gave hundreds of millions of dollars to Native
American farmers to settle accusations of government discrimination. Mr.
McCotter took the idea to the Office of Legal Counsel, which offers advice on
the law to Justice Department leaders. The office, run by T. Elliot Gaiser, a
former clerk for Justice Samuel A. Alito Jr., blessed the proposal, agreeing
that Keepseagle could serve as a model.
When the
plan was made public, it faced an avalanche of criticism. The Treasury
Department’s top lawyer, a Trump appointee, resigned.
Among the
loudest critics were former Justice Department lawyers who had worked on the
Keepseagle case, who pointed out that the Keepseagle settlement was overseen by
a federal judge after years of litigation and analysis of the claims and
evidence.
The
resolution to Mr. Trump’s suit against the I.R.S., by contrast, was reached in
private by lawyers loyal to the president and without any judicial oversight.
Appearing
on CNN in recent days, Mr. Blanche was asked directly who came up with the
terms of the agreement and said that there had been negotiations between Mr.
Trump’s “outside counsel” and the Justice Department.
But he
quickly added, “Not me.”
Broad
Immunity From Audits
There was
more.
Even as
the two sides were hashing out the contours of the fund, there were also
discussions about a second agreement that would end the lawsuit: a plan to give
the Trump family and their businesses broad protection from I.R.S.
investigations of tax returns they had already filed.
The tax
immunity agreement was more like a rescue operation than a formal legal
settlement. It called for the I.R.S. to absolve Mr. Trump and his businesses of
all audits they were currently facing — including a yearslong battle with the
tax agency that could have cost the president more than $100 million.
That
fight stemmed partly from a refund that Mr. Trump had claimed — and collected —
starting in about 2010. He justified the refund by declaring huge business
losses, including on his tower in Chicago.
Early in
Mr. Trump’s first term in the White House, the matter was put on hold, but it
came back to life before he left office.
More
recently, the company had entered settlement talks with the agency, laying the
groundwork for a potential resolution, according to a person with knowledge of
the matter.
Now, it
seemed, the audit would vanish.
Acting as
a cheerleader for the overall plan, including the tax deal, was Mr. Epshteyn,
Mr. Trump’s top outside legal adviser who has been close to the president for
about a decade, both when he was in and out of office.
Mr.
Epshteyn played a significant role in moving the proposals forward, according
to multiple people familiar with the matter, discussing the issue with Mr.
Trump and circulating drafts of the tax agreement to Trump advisers.
While the
origins of the tax maneuver remain somewhat obscure, the Justice Department
began to assess the proposal about a week before Judge William’s May 20
deadline, according to people familiar with the matter. One of the questions
raised was whether giving the Trumps protection against I.R.S. scrutiny would
run afoul of a law barring the tax agency from dropping audits at the direction
of the president or his aides.
The tax
proposal did not end up appearing in the initial document that declared the
lawsuit resolved and described the details of the compensation fund. That
document was signed by the Justice Department’s No. 3 official, Stanley
Woodward Jr., who had worked with Mr. Blanche on Mr. Trump’s defense team and
represented several of the president’s close aides in various investigations.
In a
curious twist, the tax addendum was posted, without fanfare, on the Justice
Department’s website one day after the terms of the main agreement were
released. It was a murky piece of writing, full of long sentences stuffed with
subordinate clauses and the Trumpian use of words in capital letters. Only Mr.
Blanche, and no one from the I.R.S., signed it.
The
details of the fund were also somewhat inscrutable. Although the Justice
Department had explicitly stated that the Trump Organization and the Trump
family were ineligible for the fund, one confusing clause appeared to open the
door for them to file claims.
Indeed,
officials at the Trump Organization briefly discussed whether to do so,
according to people with knowledge of the matter. No decision was made. On
Friday, a federal judge in Virginia temporarily froze the fund.
Devlin
Barrett and Russ Buettner contributed reporting.
Alan
Feuer covers extremism and political violence for The Times, focusing on the
criminal cases involving the Jan. 6 attack on the Capitol and against former
President Donald J. Trump.
Andrew
Duehren covers tax policy for The Times from Washington.
Glenn
Thrush covers the Department of Justice for The Times and has also written
about gun violence, civil rights and conditions in the country’s jails and
prisons.
Ben
Protess is an investigative reporter at The Times, covering President Trump.
Maggie
Haberman is a White House correspondent for The Times, reporting on President
Trump.


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