Donald Trump doesn’t concern himself with laws. He never has. His rhetoric and actions aren’t based on what’s written, but on how it can be interpreted. That’s precisely where his power lies—because no law can fully capture every situation, every emotion, every manipulation in words. Trump knows this. And he uses it skillfully. He bends the law to suit his needs, his audience, and his immediate goals.
In 2024, he was found guilty of 34 felony counts of falsifying business records, specifically in the case of hush money payments to adult film actress Stormy Daniels before the 2016 election. A New York court ruled that Trump deliberately manipulated accounting records to conceal politically sensitive expenses. This made him the first elected president of the United States who is also a convicted criminal. Of course, even a criminal has rights. That’s the beauty of democracy and the rule of law.
What Trump said:
In his speech before the Capitol attack, he said, among other things:
- “We will march to the Capitol.”
- “We must fight like hell, or we won’t have a country anymore.”
- “Peacefully and patriotically make your voices heard.”
The U.S. Congressional committee investigating the events of January 6, 2021, concluded that Trump knowingly incited the crowd, spread false information about the election, and failed to intervene when violence began. It wasn’t a direct call to “attack,” but rather a rhetorical dance on the edg. Strong enough to inflame, vague enough to be legally defensible.
Across the Atlantic stands the BBC. A public broadcaster caught in a trap. One word, one edit, one tone and either the left accuses it of bias, or the right erupts in outrage over “progressive propaganda.” In the case of the Panorama documentary, where Trump’s speech was edited in a way that could be interpreted as inciting violence, it was the latter camp that responded. Loudly.
The resignation of BBC Director Tim Davie and Head of News Deborah Turness reveals a growing power struggle within the BBC. The conservative wing of the political spectrum is pushing for changes that would limit independence and increase control. The BBC is under enormous pressure—from within and without.
Trump is demanding one billion dollars in damages from the BBC. One billion! From the pockets of British citizens. No reasonable person could voluntarily grant him that. But it’s not just about money. It’s about precedent. About whether a public broadcaster will yield to political pressure.
This entire case shows how thin the line is between a call to action and incitement, between information and manipulation, between independence and submission. Trump crosses that line with the ease of a seasoned criminal, systematically violating laws including the Constitution. The BBC cannot afford such behavior, and so it walks this legal tightrope with all its strength. The question remains: how long can it survive this unequal fight?