Who is Really Weaponizing the Courts?

Donald Trump wants you to believe he’s a martyr—dragged into courtrooms by a weaponized justice system, a tragic hero persecuted by the establishment. Cue the violins. But in the real world, Trump hasn’t just been in court—he’s practically lived there. He’d have you believe that he’s a poor, persecuted soul, besieged by a cabal of leftist prosecutors, corrupt judges, and deep state saboteurs who have the audacity—the gall—to treat him like an ordinary citizen subject to laws. Every courtroom appearance is framed as a martyrdom, every legal defeat spun into some overwrought conspiracy theory. He’s not on trial—he’s the lead character in a paranoid delusion that we're all supposed to buy into, apparently.

But let’s cut the act. Trump isn’t the hunted. He’s the guy handing out ammo and aiming the legal bazooka.

This isn’t new, by the way. Long before he began cosplaying as a political messiah, Donald Trump had already gone pro in courtroom warfare. USA Today investigated Trump’s litigation history and found that he and his businesses were involved in 4,095 lawsuits over three decades. That’s not a legal track record—that’s a full-time job. The man has sued, been sued, and sued back so many times it’s a miracle he hasn’t been awarded an honorary J.D. from the Litigation Industrial Complex. As the piece put it: “The legal actions offer a window into the mind of a man who often used the courts to wage personal and professional wars.” So no, he’s not afraid of the legal system. He’s addicted to it.

And now? Now he’s pretending to be shocked—shocked!—that he’s entangled in even more legal trouble. Please. That’s like an arsonist complaining about smoke inhalation.

Trump is using maxims from the Art of War; specifically “Appear weak where you are strong, and strong where you are weak.” If Sun Tzu were alive today, he’d probably file a cease and desist. Trump performs weakness so the cameras linger, then flexes his legal muscle behind the curtain, launching lawsuit after lawsuit like he’s getting frequent filer miles at the courthouse.

These aren’t legal defenses; they’re delay grenades lobbed at the justice system. Endless appeals, procedural gymnastics, courtroom drama—all choreographed to stall, distract, and exhaust. His legal team isn’t fighting for innocence; they’re just buying time for the next rally, the next donation blitz, the next headline that doesn’t use the word “convicted.”

Even The Wall Street Journal noted in 2016 that Trump had been involved in more lawsuits than any major real estate developer in the United States. His legal strategy? File early, sue often, settle when convenient, and attack everyone who pushes back.

The Washington Post added to this chorus, describing his approach as: “If you can’t beat the case, beat the system.” Whether it’s discrediting judges, launching frivolous countersuits, or crying political conspiracy to whip his base into a legal fever dream, Trump’s goal isn’t justice—it’s disruption.

And lest we forget, he’s also a pro at the intimidation lawsuits—witness the flurry of lawsuits aimed at US law firms that have the audacity to question the Trump administration’s recent antics. The kind meant to scare off whistleblowers, reporters, ex-staffers, and even states that (gasp!) dared to count votes. The message is clear: cross Trump, and you won’t just get mean tweets—you’ll get court summonses. It’s not “lawfare”; it’s lawsuit theatre with real-world consequences.

So no, Donald, you’re not a victim of the system. You are the system—warped, bloated, and armed with a filing cabinet full of grievances.

The next time he whimpers about legal persecution or whines about “weaponized courts”, remember: this is the guy who showed up to a knife fight with a law firm. And if anyone’s keeping score, it’s not the justice system that’s under assault. It’s the idea that rules might apply to a man who’s never once believed they should.