In 1857, the U.S. Supreme Court rendered an infamous decision, Dred Scott v. Sandford. By declaring that Black Americans could never be citizens and stripping Congress of the power to restrict slavery in the territories, Chief Justice Taney both misinterpreted the Constitution and kindled a conflagration. Abraham Lincoln, still years away from the presidency, saw the danger immediately. But instead of rejecting the Court’s authority outright, he responded with a strategy rooted in public persuasion, electoral politics, and institutional patience.
That response offers more than a historical footnote—it could serve as a guide for Donald Trump as he prepares for another round of battles with the federal judiciary in 2025.
Lincoln’s reaction to Dred Scott was sharp but measured. He condemned the ruling as a betrayal of the nation’s founding ideals. Taney’s assertion that African Americans had “no rights which the white man was bound to respect” blatantly contradicted the Declaration of Independence’s promise that “all men are created equal.” In a speech just weeks after the decision, Lincoln challenged the ruling’s historical basis, pointing out that free Black men were able to vote in several states at the time of the Constitution’s adoption. He understood that the Court’s opinion was not merely a stand-alone mistake, but part of a broader effort to nationalize slavery.
Lincoln didn’t call for rebellion. While the judiciary was not beyond criticism, neither was it to be discarded. Instead, he called on voters to elect leaders who would appoint judges loyal to the Constitution’s moral foundations and warned that unchecked judicial authority would erode individual liberty and democratic governance.
Today, that mindset could aid President Donald Trump, who has seen key parts of his agenda—especially on immigration enforcement, environmental policy, and administrative reform—stymied by federal court rulings. Many of those judges were appointed by previous administrations and now function as formidable gatekeepers to policy change.
President Trump doesn’t need to attack the courts directly. Like Lincoln, he can challenge judicial outcomes through political channels: legislative coalitions, public messaging, and strategic appointments.
Lincoln didn’t simply denounce Dred Scott—he made it a rallying cry. During the 1858 Lincoln-Douglas debates, he turned the decision into a test of national character. He framed it not as a legal technicality, but as a fundamental threat to liberty. He used it to draw a moral contrast with his opponents, warning that if the Court could dictate slavery policy today, what would stop it from undermining other rights tomorrow?
President Trump has a similar opportunity. If courts block his initiatives, he can use those moments to spotlight judicial overreach. However, his argument must go beyond legalese and persuade Americans that certain rulings are not just wrong in law, but wrong for the country—that they conflict with the will of the people who elected him. In doing so, he can build a case for judicial reform, whether through legislative clarification or long-term shifts in judicial appointments.
Lincoln’s restraint is an equally important lesson. He never advocated ignoring the Supreme Court. He recognized that undermining the judiciary’s authority would set a dangerous precedent. Instead, he worked within the system—organizing, debating, campaigning—with the belief that democratic pressure could, over time, correct the Court’s mistakes.
President Trump would be wise to follow that lead, employing legal appeals, revised executive orders, and legislation that clarifies gray areas of the law. As Lincoln did, he can focus on the long game—reshaping the judiciary by appointing judges who reflect his constitutional philosophy.
In the end, Lincoln’s bet paid off. His election in 1860 and the cataclysm of the Civil War rendered Dred Scott a dead letter, both legally and morally. It was a triumph not of rebellion, but of persistence and principle.
President Trump’s battles are less existential, but no less pressing. To prevail, he’ll need a strategy grounded in persuasion, policy, and political vision.
Historical comparisons are never perfect. Lincoln fought against the expansion of slavery; President Trump is battling regulatory constraints and judicial resistance. But both faced courts that appeared to many as out of step with the electorate. Lincoln showed how to resist with dignity, channel public opinion, and ultimately win—not by tearing down institutions, but by working through them.