The Capitol Rioters Who Think America Owes Them More Than a $1.8 Billion Check
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On Jan. 6, 2021, Larry Rendall Brock Jr. marched on the Capitol and became one of the riot’s most indelible figures. Many remember him as one of the “zip-tie guys”—he was photographed crossing the Senate floor in tactical gear, white flex-cuffs dangling from his fingertips. Before actually showing up in Washington, the retired Air Force lieutenant colonel had discussed, over Facebook, seizing members of Congress. He also floated applying the same interrogation techniques he once used against al-Qaida to “gain evidence on the coup” he thought the members were perpetrating.
As Brock told us, the five years since have not been kind. He was convicted on six federal counts and served two years in prison. Even after his release, his combat-gear-clad image, zip ties in hand, became a visual he couldn’t outrun. “I gave the Left a beautiful optic for that day, and I never meant to do that,” he said. “Trust me, you have no idea how much I wish I had never picked them up, but I did.”
So, when Brock heard about the Justice Department’s new “Anti-Weaponization Fund”—a $1.776 billion program to compensate purported victims of a “weaponized” justice system, including prosecuted Capitol rioters—he felt something like relief. “I’m very thankful to President Trump for actually doing something about it,” he said, calling the fund “long overdue.”
Other Jan. 6 defendants we spoke with shared in Brock’s gratitude, maintaining that, far from being criminals, they are in fact the victims of overzealous prosecutions tied to the Capitol riot. Treniss Evans, a Texan who drank a shot of Fireball whiskey in the speaker of the House’s conference room, also praised Trump for the creation of the fund. Leo Kelly—a devout Christian Iowan who was seen ascending the Senate dais, leafing through sensitive documents, and praying in the chamber—described it as “a blessing.” Brian Mock, a Minnesota man filmed shoving an officer to the ground before later boasting that he “beat the shit” out of him, believes the fund could finally allow him to retreat into a quieter life: “I think I’ve earned my peace.”
To many of these defendants, the fund is a long-awaited recognition of the “weaponized” justice they suffered. “It will mean everything to a lot of people,” Brock said. In some corners of the Jan. 6 community, the only question that remains is whether it will be enough to compensate for everything they claim to have lost.
Much of the country feels different. Since its announcement last week, the fund has faced mounting skepticism over its legal standing. Just last Wednesday, two police officers who defended the Capitol on Jan. 6 filed a federal lawsuit against the fund on the basis that it violates several federal statutes and even the 14th Amendment, which prohibits the use of public funds in aid of insurrection. A coalition of nonprofits and individuals, including a fired Jan. 6 prosecutor, followed suit—filing a similar complaint against the fund in the Eastern District of Virginia. Republicans in Congress, too, have departed from the president on the “slush fund,” with members like Kentucky Sen. Mitch McConnell calling it “stupid” and “morally wrong.”
The hot-button initiative was established to settle President Donald Trump’s $10 billion lawsuit against the IRS over leaked tax returns, along with administrative claims stemming from the FBI’s 2022 search of Mar-a-Lago for classified documents and investigation into Russian collusion in his 2016 campaign. Drawn from the Treasury Department’s Judgment Fund—a permanent pool of taxpayer dollars typically used to settle government lawsuits—its mandate is to provide financial compensation and formal apologies to those who claim they were victims of DOJ-dubbed “lawfare.” The........
