The picture of Daniel Hodges on January 6, 2021, has an almost cinematic quality. On camera, rioters were seen screaming and pressing against him from all sides as he was crushed in a doorframe of the US Capitol. He made it out alive. He returned to his job. And now, over four years later, he’s standing in a federal courtroom attempting to prevent the individuals who placed him in that doorframe from receiving a government check.
Last week, Hodges and former Capitol Police officer Harry Dunn filed a federal lawsuit contesting the Trump administration’s nearly $1.8 billion “Anti-Weaponization Fund”—a Justice Department-announced compensation program purportedly intended for individuals who feel they were singled out by a politicized legal system. President Trump, Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent, and acting Attorney General Todd Blanche are named as defendants in the lawsuit. The fund is being referred to by Dunn and Hodges as a slush fund for insurrectionists.
The bitter irony at the heart of this tale is difficult to ignore. While some of the men who assaulted the officers are reportedly already preparing their applications to collect from that fund, the officers who held the line that day—who were beaten, maced, and crushed—are now the ones filing paperwork and hiring attorneys. Observing that kind of institutional absurdity raises questions about the government’s motivations.
Answers have not been provided by the administration. Vice President JD Vance refused to rule out the possibility of payments for violent Jan. 6 offenders, specifically those found guilty of assaulting police. “We’re just making commitments to look at things case by case,” he stated. Even though that response was cautiously noncommittal, it appeared to confirm what Dunn and Hodges had been afraid of all along. No one in this administration is prepared to make a firm decision.
Hodges, in his individual role as a D.C. When speaking with reporters, the Metropolitan Police officer didn’t hold back. “Why would you pay people who wanted to assassinate the vice president?” he inquired. Nobody in a position of authority has yet to provide a satisfactory answer to this fair question. Additionally, his concern goes beyond principle. He mentioned that he and other officers are still receiving death threats. According to Hodges, providing financial support to individuals who have already demonstrated a willingness to use violence and who have, in his words, “no ethical qualms” is truly dangerous.
According to the lawsuit, the fund would essentially legitimize political violence and violate federal law. It is somewhat of a test case because it is the first known legal challenge to the program. On issues such as these, courts have occasionally taken people by surprise. Whether a federal judge will take action to block the fund before any payments are made or if the administration will just expedite disbursements in the interim is still completely unknown.
Beyond its legal specifics, this case feels important because of what it represents about memory, particularly whose version of January 6th the government is now formally endorsing. First came pardons. Public rehabilitation comes next. Now, possibly, payment. An official rewriting of what transpired both inside and outside that building has gotten closer with each step. By bringing this lawsuit, Dunn and Hodges are demanding that someone recall it in a different way. that it was recorded by someone.
It takes a different kind of endurance to walk back into that battle with cameras and attorneys in place of shields and batons. It appears that these two men have it.
