Selective Federal justice under Trump defines the new normal: the law that was waived for rioters who beat police at the Capitol on January 6, 2021, is now weaponized against a guy who tossed a sandwich at a federal officer. Justice, apparently, is a matter of political perspective.
On August 14, 2025, Sean Charles Dunn, a mid‑level Justice Department specialist, found himself splashed across headlines after tossing a sub‑style sandwich at a Customs and Border Protection agent during a street encounter in Washington, D.C. on the night of August 10. On August 14, he appeared in U.S. District Court and was charged by federal prosecutors under 18 U.S.C. § 111(a)(1) for assaulting a federal officer. Trump‑aligned officials blasted the case across social media and cable news as proof that assaulting law enforcement would not be tolerated.
Just seven months ago, on his first day back in the Oval Office, Trump signed a sweeping clemency proclamation erasing the convictions and pending prosecutions of nearly every January 6 defendant, including hundreds charged under that very same statute for striking, shoving, or attacking officers at the Capitol. The move was hailed in Trump’s statement as an act of “national reconciliation,” and in some cases, those pardoned were later welcomed into government roles.
One sandwich, one mob, one law. And two radically different visions of law and order. As I wrote in The Myth of the Lone Strongman, “Dissent isn’t discouraged. It’s punished.” This is a post about how a statute in the U.S. Criminal Code became both a hammer against dissent and a hall pass for insurrectionists.
Side-by-Side Case Table
| Aspects | Sean Charles Dunn | January 6 Defendants |
|---|---|---|
| What happened | Threw a sub style sandwich at CBP Agent Gregory Lairmore during a street encounter in D.C. | Stormed the U.S. Capitol; hundreds assaulted or obstructed officers, many using dangerous weapons |
| Law applied | 18 U.S.C. § 111(a)(1) – assaulting/resisting/impeding certain officers | Multiple charges, including 18 U.S.C. § 111(a)(1) |
| Public message | “Assault a law enforcement officer and you’ll be prosecuted.” – Jeanine Pirro | “Grave national injustice… national reconciliation.” – Presidential proclamation |
| Job consequence | Fired from DOJ the same day charges went public | At least one pardoned participant hired into a senior DOJ role |
| Outcome | Arrested; federal case pending | Nearly all pardoned on Jan 20, 2025; 14 sentences commuted |
The Dunn Sandwich Case
The confrontation between Sean Charles Dunn and the Customs and Border Protection (CBP) agent appears to have been politically charged and spontaneous. According to multiple reports and the criminal complaint, Dunn reportedly crossed the street and approached the officer while shouting “f— you! You f—— fascists! Why are you here? I don’t want you in my city!” The confrontation ended when Dunn forcefully threw a sub-style sandwich at the officer’s chest.
Unlike many who were charged in the aftermath of the January 6 insurrection, Dunn didn’t deny it.
“I did it. I threw the sandwich,” Dunn told officers after being apprehended.
That admission was enough for federal prosecutors to bring the weight of 18 U.S.C. § 111(a)(1) down on him – the statute that makes it a crime to assault, resist, or impede certain federal officers or employees. The charge carries up to eight years in prison if physical contact occurs, even in the absence of injury.
| Whoever– (1) forcibly assaults, resists, opposes, impedes, intimidates, or interferes with any person designated in section 1114 of this title while engaged in or on account of the performance of official duties; shall, where the acts in violation of this section constitute only simple assault, be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than one year, or both, and where such acts involve physical contact with the victim of that assault or the intent to commit another felony, be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than eight years, or both. 18 U.S.C. § 111(a)(1)§ 111(a)(1) |
Trump-aligned officials wasted no time turning the case into theater: a public spectacle soaked in hypocrisy.
- Jeanine Pirro, U.S. Attorney for D.C., used a press conference to deliver her now‑viral line: “Assault a law enforcement officer, and you’ll be prosecuted. Stick your Subway sandwich somewhere else.”
- Pam Bondi, Attorney General, announced Dunn’s immediate firing: “You will NOT work in this administration while disrespecting our government and law enforcement.”
The message was unmistakable: today a single thrown object, with no weapon, no injury, can trigger felony prosecutions on the streets of D.C.
The Jan. 6 Mass Clemency
Selective Federal justice under Trump reached its apex on January 20, 2025. Mere hours after taking the oath for a second term, he signed a sweeping clemency order that upended the largest criminal investigation in U.S. history. The proclamation granted full pardons to nearly every person charged in connection with the January 6 Capitol attack, erasing convictions, dismissing pending cases and commuting 14 prison sentences, including those of high-profile leaders convicted of seditious conspiracy.
Among the charges wiped away were hundreds under 18 U.S.C. § 111(a)(1),the very statute used to prosecute Sean Charles Dunn for tossing a sandwich. In many of those Jan. 6 cases, prosecutors had presented evidence of defendants striking, shoving, spraying, or hurling objects at law enforcement officers, sometimes while armed with dangerous weapons.
Trump’s proclamation cast the move as an act of mercy and political redress:
“Ending a grave national injustice… and beginning a process of national reconciliation.”
The clemency was unconditional. It made no distinction between those who engaged in violence and those convicted solely of lesser offenses. In some cases, recipients returned not to obscurity but to positions of influence: for example, Jared Wise, recorded on Jan. 6 calling officers “Nazis” and yelling “Kill ’em!”, saw his felony case dismissed and was later appointed to a senior advisory role at the Department of Justice.
The message to Trump’s supporters was unmistakable: the administration would wield its constitutional pardon power, not as a narrow instrument of individual mercy, but as a sweeping political statement, even when it meant forgiving assaults on federal officers. It was a lesson demonstrating political bias in federal prosecutions. But for Sean Charles Dunn, there was no mercy, no nuance, no political redemption. His act, an impulsive, symbolic protest involving a thrown sandwich, was not met with understanding or proportionality, but with the full weight of federal prosecution. The same system that erased seditious conspiracy turned a minor act of defiance into a federal offense.
Dunn didn’t storm the Capitol. He didn’t wield bear spray, break barricades, or chant for executions. He shouted, he threw a sandwich and he owned it.
The contrast in how the law is applied under Trump is a moral one. It lays bare the machinery of unequal justice in America under Trump’s DOJ; a system where punishment hinges not on the act, but on allegiance. Throw a sandwich at a federal officer and you might get eight years. Throw fists, flags and fire extinguishers in defense of Trump and you get a pardon and maybe a job!
When the same law delivers a felony and a firing for a thrown sandwich, but a full pardon for violent assaults in a political riot, law and order ceases to be a principle and becomes a weapon of selective enforcement. The contrast sends a clear message to every federal employee, every participant in a demonstration and every defendant: justice will not be blind, it will be partisan. This is what federal justice under Trump has become.
Conclusion
Two episodes. One statute. Two entirely different justice systems.
In August of 2025, Sean Charles Dunn learned that a single thrown sandwich could cost a career, a public reputation and perhaps his liberty. The full machinery of federal prosecution swung into action, framed as proof that “law and order” meant zero tolerance for any assault on an officer.
But for the hundreds who clashed with police in the January 6 attack, some wielding weapons, many facing the very same assault charge, the message was inverted. With a stroke of the president’s pen, convictions vanished and sentences were commuted.
When a law is enforced with such glaring disparity, it stops being a neutral rule and starts serving as an instrument of political reward or retribution. This isn’t equal justice. It’s selective justice.