Scott Bessent had one job on Wednesday. He chose silence.
The Treasury Secretary stonewalled Senate lawmakers, refusing to clarify if Donald Trump and his family still hold a golden ticket of immunity from IRS audits, even after the White House quietly killed a controversial $1.776 billion payout fund meant for the president’s loyalists.
The excuse? Litigation. It is the oldest shield in Washington. “There’s continuing litigation, and I’m unable to comment,” Bessent muttered to the Senate Finance Committee.
Democrats were furious. They wanted answers during a hearing meant to dissect the Treasury’s budget. Just a day earlier, acting Attorney General Todd Blanche dropped a hint. He suggested that while the payout fund was dead, the IRS audit shield for the Republican president remained very much alive.
Senator Catherine Cortez Masto lost her patience. “It’s been very clear you’re dodging this,” the Nevada Democrat snapped, calling the evasion “outrageous.” The White House stayed quiet. Trump did too.
The administration killed the payout fund—which could have funneled cash to January 6 rioters—only after a massive bipartisan uproar threatened to derail their entire legislative agenda. But the audit immunity? That is a different story. It was baked into a settlement resolving Trump’s massive $10 billion lawsuit against the tax agency. Blanche insisted “nothing has changed” on that front.
A federal judge in Florida is not amused. Kathleen Williams, who initially threw out Trump’s lawsuit, dragged it back to life last week. She ordered Trump’s legal team to explain if they dropped the suit just to hide the details of this cozy deal from public view. She previously blasted the Justice Department for keeping the court in the dark.
Critics are calling foul. Matt Platkin, a former New Jersey attorney general now representing challengers to the deal, labeled the setup “one of the greatest scams in American history.” He argues the Florida court must keep digging.
On Capitol Hill, Oregon Democrat Ron Wyden tried to corner Bessent. He asked point-blank if the tax immunity for Trump, his family, and his sprawling business empire still stands. Bessent hid behind his legal script again.
The stakes are enormous. If the IRS drops its magnifying glass, Trump saves a fortune. Reports from the New York Times and ProPublica point to a massive, years-long audit over a tax-avoidance scheme that could cost Trump upwards of $100 million if the agency rules against him.
Even some Republicans are squirming. Louisiana Senator Bill Cassidy made his feelings clear outside the chamber, noting that no American should get a special pass from the taxman.
Nina Olson, who runs the Center for Taxpayer Rights, went further. She called the deal the darkest moment for the IRS since Richard Nixon tried to weaponize the agency to protect his friends and punish his enemies in the 1970s. History repeats itself. Only the price tag gets bigger.
