The Curious Case of Trump's Confused Pardon

Ah, the twilight days of the Trump presidency. Remember that flurry of pardons, those final acts of executive clemency that always seem to generate a whirlwind of headlines? Well, amidst the expected names and the politically charged decisions, one particular pardon from January 19, 2021, quietly slipped through, leaving a rather peculiar question mark hanging in the air. It involved a man named Fred Eshelman, a wealthy pharmaceutical mogul, and a series of events that, frankly, sound like something straight out of a political satire.

Now, who exactly is Fred Eshelman? For those deeply entrenched in the post-2020 election drama, his name might ring a bell. He was the generous, or perhaps just deeply concerned, donor who coughed up a hefty $2.5 million to a pro-Trump group called True the Vote. Their mission? To unearth supposed evidence of widespread voter fraud, a narrative then-President Trump was pushing vigorously. But here’s the kicker: Eshelman wasn't exactly thrilled with their progress. Feeling his substantial investment wasn't yielding the promised results – that is, uncovering significant fraud – he took the rather bold step of suing the group, demanding his money back. A court eventually sided with him, ordering True the Vote to return a cool $2.1 million.

Now, as if that weren't enough drama for one individual, Mr. Eshelman found himself in hot water of an entirely different sort. Charges surfaced, alleging that he himself had committed voter fraud. The accusation? Illegally casting ballots in two different states – North Carolina and Pennsylvania – during the very same 2020 election. Talk about an ironic twist! The man who bankrolled an investigation into voter fraud was now facing the very same allegations himself. The charges, originating from North Carolina, were for two felony counts of casting more than one ballot in an election, quite serious indeed.

And this is precisely where our story veers into the truly head-scratching. On January 19, 2021, just a day before President Trump was set to leave office, a flurry of pardons was issued. Among them, a pardon for "Fred Eshelman." Now, the timing alone is suspicious, coming as it did around the same time Eshelman's own voter fraud charges were starting to make waves publicly. But here's where it gets really interesting, and frankly, quite confusing: the pardon itself listed a single count of "unlawful campaign contribution." Not voter fraud, mind you, but an unlawful campaign contribution. See the problem?

This is where the plot thickens considerably. First off, those serious voter fraud charges against Eshelman? They were state charges, emanating from North Carolina. Presidential pardons, as a rule, apply to federal crimes, not state ones. So, right off the bat, a presidential pardon wouldn't actually clear him of the voter fraud allegations he was facing. But then, there's the other layer of oddity: the specific crime listed in the pardon – "unlawful campaign contribution." The thing is, Fred Eshelman was never charged with such a crime. Not federally, not at the state level, nothing related to an unlawful campaign contribution.

So, what on earth was going on? It begs the question: was President Trump, in his final chaotic moments in office, attempting to pardon Eshelman for the voter fraud charges, perhaps unaware or simply ignoring the state-level jurisdiction issue, and just got the listed crime completely, bafflingly wrong? Or, was he perhaps trying to absolve Eshelman of some perceived wrongdoing related to that hefty $2.5 million donation to True the Vote – maybe seeing it as a 'campaign contribution' in his own mind, even though it wasn't an illegal one as far as charges went? It really does leave you scratching your head, doesn't it?

Given Trump's well-documented penchant for operating outside conventional norms and, at times, displaying a certain degree of... shall we say, factual fluidity, the most plausible explanation seems to be a combination of confusion and a genuine desire to reward a loyal supporter. Whether it was a botched attempt to pardon Eshelman for the voter fraud or a muddled effort to cover some other perceived transgression related to his pro-Trump efforts, it remains a truly bizarre footnote. A rich donor, embroiled in voter fraud allegations, seemingly receiving a pardon for a crime he wasn't even accused of, all from a president famous for his own claims of election malfeasance. In many ways, it's a fitting, if utterly bewildering, epilogue to the Trump era of pardons.