Trump Unleashes DOJ Fraud Crackdown: Billions in Scams Face Day of Reckoning

Paul Riverbank, 1/29/2026Trump names fraud-buster Colin McDonald to lead DOJ’s high-stakes crackdown on government scams.

The choice for the job? Colin McDonald—a name that, until now, hasn’t exactly dominated cable news panels or kitchen table debates. But in prosecutorial circles, McDonald has something approaching folk-hero status. Whether you dig into his time breaking up corruption schemes in Hawaii or spot his name in old Southern California court filings, there's a through-line: a doggedness that borders on stubborn. Take 2020, for example. McDonald was front and center as federal authorities took down a web of police corruption, toppling a former Honolulu police chief, his wife, and two accomplices. The details bordered on cinematic—stacks of cash, luxury cars, an eye-popping $24,000 brunch, and vacations that would make travel bloggers jealous. Amid all that noise, McDonald’s voice cut through in court, methodical and unflinching.

Now, he's picking up the mantle as the sheriff for government fraud, stepping into a position that, by design, puts him only a few doors away (figuratively speaking) from the president and Vice President JD Vance—not tucked away deep in the DOJ’s building, but right at the nerve center of federal power. That’s not just a bureaucratic reshuffle. It’s a statement: this is no longer business as usual.

Recent reporting has painted a bleak picture—stories chronicling how programs intended to help the most vulnerable have instead become a windfall for criminals, with billions siphoned into private pockets or, in some cases, whisked overseas. California and Minnesota have emerged as poster children for this new era of heists—a tangle of welfare fraud, Medicare manipulation, and the sometimes tragic comedy of unintended consequences. The latest numbers are staggering, but numbers alone don’t tell the story. Every new revelation seems to uncover yet another scheme with more imagination and reach than the last.

Supporters of President Trump call the move everything from “long overdue” to “essential,” stressing the need not just for new watchdogs, but for watchdogs who can actually bite. Critics, meanwhile, suspect the motives—charging that it’s another chapter in politicizing the justice system. The noise is unlikely to die down anytime soon, and McDonald, for his part, has said little publicly since the nomination.

From inside the Department, however, there’s little argument about his credentials. Robert Brewer, who ran the US Attorney’s office in Southern California during McDonald’s earlier prosecution days, calls his one-time deputy “fearless, strong, and unflaggingly ethical.” Attorney General Pam Bondi, who has remained steadfastly in McDonald’s corner, credits him with the tenacity needed to plug the holes that have drained so many taxpayer dollars. JD Vance, now a heartbeat away from the Oval Office himself, told a reporter, “If there’s anyone you want rooting out fraud, it’s Colin.”

Yet, the road ahead isn’t straight. The bounds of McDonald’s new division remain, in some ways, undefined. Catching today’s fraudsters is one thing. Reinventing government processes to keep tomorrow’s scammers out? That’s an entirely different beast. More than a few insiders believe the cases we’ve heard about are just the faintest shadow of a much larger problem.

Some are already looking ahead to the next election cycles, warning that this division’s entire existence could hinge on the coming balance of power. A conservative columnist recently mused—half-joking, half-warning—that if Republicans lose in 2026 or 2028, “the department closes up shop, whether it’s worked or not.”

All of which brings us back to McDonald. What’s at stake isn’t just a line in the federal org chart—it’s the question of trust in government writ large. Will this new office become a relentless engine for transparency, or just another experiment that stumbles in the maze of Washington inertia? For now, the public waits—and perhaps, wonders if the era of “lost billions” might finally be drawing to a close.

If you blinked, you might have missed it. Amid a haze of political news this week, former President Donald Trump took to Truth Social on Tuesday, tossing a curveball at Washington with the announcement of a brand new Justice Department post: Assistant Attorney General for National Fraud Enforcement. It's the kind of move that seems both overdue and sudden—a direct volley at decades’ worth of headlines about money slipping through the cracks of the American bureaucracy.The choice for the job? Colin McDonald—a name that, until now, hasn’t exactly dominated cable news panels or kitchen table debates. But in prosecutorial circles, McDonald has something approaching folk-hero status. Whether you dig into his time breaking up corruption schemes in Hawaii or spot his name in old Southern California court filings, there's a through-line: a doggedness that borders on stubborn. Take 2020, for example. McDonald was front and center as federal authorities took down a web of police corruption, toppling a former Honolulu police chief, his wife, and two accomplices. The details bordered on cinematic—stacks of cash, luxury cars, an eye-popping $24,000 brunch, and vacations that would make travel bloggers jealous. Amid all that noise, McDonald’s voice cut through in court, methodical and unflinching.Now, he's picking up the mantle as the sheriff for government fraud, stepping into a position that, by design, puts him only a few doors away (figuratively speaking) from the president and Vice President JD Vance—not tucked away deep in the DOJ’s building, but right at the nerve center of federal power. That’s not just a bureaucratic reshuffle. It’s a statement: this is no longer business as usual.Recent reporting has painted a bleak picture—stories chronicling how programs intended to help the most vulnerable have instead become a windfall for criminals, with billions siphoned into private pockets or, in some cases, whisked overseas. California and Minnesota have emerged as poster children for this new era of heists—a tangle of welfare fraud, Medicare manipulation, and the sometimes tragic comedy of unintended consequences. The latest numbers are staggering, but numbers alone don’t tell the story. Every new revelation seems to uncover yet another scheme with more imagination and reach than the last.Supporters of President Trump call the move everything from “long overdue” to “essential,” stressing the need not just for new watchdogs, but for watchdogs who can actually bite. Critics, meanwhile, suspect the motives—charging that it’s another chapter in politicizing the justice system. The noise is unlikely to die down anytime soon, and McDonald, for his part, has said little publicly since the nomination.From inside the Department, however, there’s little argument about his credentials. Robert Brewer, who ran the US Attorney’s office in Southern California during McDonald’s earlier prosecution days, calls his one-time deputy “fearless, strong, and unflaggingly ethical.” Attorney General Pam Bondi, who has remained steadfastly in McDonald’s corner, credits him with the tenacity needed to plug the holes that have drained so many taxpayer dollars. JD Vance, now a heartbeat away from the Oval Office himself, told a reporter, “If there’s anyone you want rooting out fraud, it’s Colin.”Yet, the road ahead isn’t straight. The bounds of McDonald’s new division remain, in some ways, undefined. Catching today’s fraudsters is one thing. Reinventing government processes to keep tomorrow’s scammers out? That’s an entirely different beast. More than a few insiders believe the cases we’ve heard about are just the faintest shadow of a much larger problem.Some are already looking ahead to the next election cycles, warning that this division’s entire existence could hinge on the coming balance of power. A conservative columnist recently mused—half-joking, half-warning—that if Republicans lose in 2026 or 2028, “the department closes up shop, whether it’s worked or not.”All of which brings us back to McDonald. What’s at stake isn’t just a line in the federal org chart—it’s the question of trust in government writ large. Will this new office become a relentless engine for transparency, or just another experiment that stumbles in the maze of Washington inertia? For now, the public waits—and perhaps, wonders if the era of “lost billions” might finally be drawing to a close.