In a ruling that could reverberate across the federal justice system, Chief U.S. District Judge Matthew Brann of Pennsylvania—an Obama appointee—delivered a serious legal blow to the Trump administration on Thursday, declaring that Alina Habba has been unlawfully serving as the U.S. Attorney for the District of New Jersey since late July. The decision not only throws Habba’s tenure into question, but also casts a long legal shadow over every action taken by her office since July 28.
This saga, born from the unlikely appeal of a low-level drug defendant, spiraled into a complex standoff between the judiciary, the executive branch, and the obscure but significant nuances of federal appointment law. At the center of it all is Habba, a well-known Trump lawyer turned federal prosecutor whose status has now been legally invalidated—at least for the moment.
Let’s unravel the timeline, because understanding how we got here is key.
When Biden-appointed U.S. Attorney Philip Sellinger resigned in January, Vikas Khanna stepped in as Acting U.S. Attorney. Then came a carousel of interim appointments until, in late March, Trump—newly reinstated as president—used his Truth Social account to name Habba as the Interim U.S. Attorney. Pam Bondi swore her in on March 28.
But under federal law, interim U.S. Attorneys can only serve for 120 days without Senate confirmation. Habba’s window closed on July 26. Trump didn’t even nominate her until June 30, giving the Senate virtually no time to confirm—an outcome that, perhaps not coincidentally, ensured the issue would land in legal limbo.
On July 22, the judges of the District of New Jersey exercised their authority under 28 U.S.C. § 546(d) and appointed Habba’s First Assistant, Desiree Grace, to the position. The Trump administration bristled. Bondi promptly fired Grace. And the next day, Trump’s legal team executed a series of rapid-fire maneuvers that can only be described as either brilliant strategy or procedural whiplash—depending on your view.
Trump withdrew Habba’s nomination, Bondi appointed her as “Special Attorney to the Attorney General,” and made her First Assistant U.S. Attorney again. For added measure, Trump re-fired Grace, citing executive authority under Article II.
Meanwhile, Grace gamely announced on LinkedIn (yes, LinkedIn) that she would comply with the judges’ order and begin serving. In what read like a mix of legal realism and bureaucratic satire, she claimed the moral high ground while the Trump team removed the ground entirely from beneath her feet.
Then came the inevitable court challenge. The drug defendant, whose case sparked this entire episode, argued that if Habba was not lawfully serving, his indictment was tainted. Since the original judge in the case had voted to install Grace, the Third Circuit reassigned the matter to Judge Brann.
Brann’s ruling? Habba’s tenure, post-July 28, is legally invalid. He’s pausing his order pending appeal, but the message is clear: no matter how many chess pieces you move, the board still has rules.
And now? The ruling potentially compromises every indictment, plea deal, and motion filed under Habba’s name since the statutory deadline expired. Legal chaos is in the air, and the implications could snowball across other interim offices, where similar timelines are creeping toward collapse.
Much of this legal bottleneck stems from the Senate’s dysfunction, particularly Majority Whip John Thune’s failure to clear the path for confirmations. The result? A judiciary forced to step into an executive vacuum—one of the stranger constitutional contradictions on display.
The political optics here are impossible to ignore. The Trump administration’s attempt to fortify its prosecutorial team through a web of appointments, resignations, and reappointments looks, to critics, like an end-run around the law. To supporters, it’s a masterstroke—using every tool available to prevent hostile judicial interference.
