Trump Warns: ‘Radical Left’ Plotting Supreme Court Takeover

Paul Riverbank, 12/2/2025Supreme Court reform fuels fierce political battle—filibuster threats, court-packing fears, and trust on edge.

Predictably, Donald Trump, never one to let a challenge go unaddressed, came out swinging on Truth Social. He pinned Holder as a loyalist to President Obama—dredging up the well-worn “Fast and Furious” episode for good measure. Trump’s message was blunt, arguing that Holder had abandoned all moderation and was plotting a radical expansion—suggesting Democrats might blow up the bench to a jaw-dropping 21 justices, ignoring all precedent.

It wasn’t simply a procedural or academic argument. For Trump, the stakes are existential: he said such tinkering would “destroy our Constitution,” claiming Republicans had little recourse but to scrap the Senate filibuster if they hoped to hold the line. His prescription? Do away with gridlock, let the majority rule, and—true to form—promise “the most successful four years in the history of our country.” The familiar flourish of Trumpian hyperbole aside, there’s no denying that the debate over court reform now features both grand posturing and very tangible political risk.

But behind the verbal fireworks, what’s actually motivating this heated exchange? Holder insists the Court itself has drifted into dysfunction—no longer the apolitical guardian it’s supposed to be, but instead, a prize shaped by partisan maneuvering. His resentment remains focused on two pivotal moments: Senate Republicans’ refusal to give Merrick Garland a hearing in 2016, and their subsequent lightning-fast confirmation of Amy Coney Barrett just ahead of the 2020 election. To many, those moves signaled that traditional rules had—if not vanished—been bent beyond recognition.

On the reform front, Holder isn’t just talking numbers. He points to ideas like 18-year term limits for justices and efforts to diversify the bench, aiming to show that the call for change isn’t simply who sits in the majority, but how the court works and whom it serves. His underlying concern is not just about the ideological lean of the court—though that’s certainly at issue—but about a gnawing legitimacy problem that has, over recent years, transformed court confirmation hearings into high-stakes spectacles rather than sober vetting.

Adding to the anxiety are decisions from the high court itself, most notably a recent ruling extending “absolute immunity” to presidents for “official acts.” Such a stance landed with a thud among critics who read it as giving future presidents—Trump included—a wide berth for unchecked action, so long as it’s tied to their office. Some legal scholars and watchdogs have questioned whether the court has the appetite, or even the will, to rein in robust or reckless exercises of executive power.

If you talk to supporters of overhaul, the central complaint boils down to trust—or a lack thereof. Many on the left say the Court’s conservative advantage, artificially maintained by congressional delays and accelerated appointments, has soured the public’s faith. On the other hand, conservatives warn that any effort to remake the court—especially dramatic measures like “packing”—could generate chaos, and in their minds, irreparably harm the balance coded into the nation’s founding document.

Amid all this noise, Americans are left to do what they’ve always done: weigh the rhetoric, filter out the hyperbole, and grapple with what a Supreme Court reimagined—or left untouched—might mean for the fabric of their civic life. Reforms and traditions go head to head, and the arguments won’t be settled any time soon. What’s clear is that trust in the institution now sits on a knife’s edge, and every decision, every proposal, keeps turning up the pressure.

—Paul Riverbank

Supreme Court reform is once again thrust into America’s never-ending political skirmish, and this time, familiar faces like Eric Holder and Donald Trump are playing their old favorites with new intensity. In a move that gave political Twitter (and not a few cable news anchors) plenty to chew on, Holder recently revived the question of expanding the high court if Democrats find themselves in the driver’s seat after 2028.Predictably, Donald Trump, never one to let a challenge go unaddressed, came out swinging on Truth Social. He pinned Holder as a loyalist to President Obama—dredging up the well-worn “Fast and Furious” episode for good measure. Trump’s message was blunt, arguing that Holder had abandoned all moderation and was plotting a radical expansion—suggesting Democrats might blow up the bench to a jaw-dropping 21 justices, ignoring all precedent.It wasn’t simply a procedural or academic argument. For Trump, the stakes are existential: he said such tinkering would “destroy our Constitution,” claiming Republicans had little recourse but to scrap the Senate filibuster if they hoped to hold the line. His prescription? Do away with gridlock, let the majority rule, and—true to form—promise “the most successful four years in the history of our country.” The familiar flourish of Trumpian hyperbole aside, there’s no denying that the debate over court reform now features both grand posturing and very tangible political risk.But behind the verbal fireworks, what’s actually motivating this heated exchange? Holder insists the Court itself has drifted into dysfunction—no longer the apolitical guardian it’s supposed to be, but instead, a prize shaped by partisan maneuvering. His resentment remains focused on two pivotal moments: Senate Republicans’ refusal to give Merrick Garland a hearing in 2016, and their subsequent lightning-fast confirmation of Amy Coney Barrett just ahead of the 2020 election. To many, those moves signaled that traditional rules had—if not vanished—been bent beyond recognition.On the reform front, Holder isn’t just talking numbers. He points to ideas like 18-year term limits for justices and efforts to diversify the bench, aiming to show that the call for change isn’t simply who sits in the majority, but how the court works and whom it serves. His underlying concern is not just about the ideological lean of the court—though that’s certainly at issue—but about a gnawing legitimacy problem that has, over recent years, transformed court confirmation hearings into high-stakes spectacles rather than sober vetting.Adding to the anxiety are decisions from the high court itself, most notably a recent ruling extending “absolute immunity” to presidents for “official acts.” Such a stance landed with a thud among critics who read it as giving future presidents—Trump included—a wide berth for unchecked action, so long as it’s tied to their office. Some legal scholars and watchdogs have questioned whether the court has the appetite, or even the will, to rein in robust or reckless exercises of executive power.If you talk to supporters of overhaul, the central complaint boils down to trust—or a lack thereof. Many on the left say the Court’s conservative advantage, artificially maintained by congressional delays and accelerated appointments, has soured the public’s faith. On the other hand, conservatives warn that any effort to remake the court—especially dramatic measures like “packing”—could generate chaos, and in their minds, irreparably harm the balance coded into the nation’s founding document.Amid all this noise, Americans are left to do what they’ve always done: weigh the rhetoric, filter out the hyperbole, and grapple with what a Supreme Court reimagined—or left untouched—might mean for the fabric of their civic life. Reforms and traditions go head to head, and the arguments won’t be settled any time soon. What’s clear is that trust in the institution now sits on a knife’s edge, and every decision, every proposal, keeps turning up the pressure.—Paul Riverbank