California Governor Gavin Newsom announced Wednesday that his state will seek to impose a 100 percent tax on any money distributed to California residents from President Trump's $1.776 billion anti-weaponization fund, a move that amounts to confiscating every dollar before it reaches the people the fund was designed to help.

Newsom made the announcement at a news conference where he also signed Senate Bill 73, an emergency election measure that makes it a felony for law enforcement to seize ballots from county elections offices. The bill takes effect immediately, six days before California's June 2 primary.

The twin actions represent Newsom's latest broadside against the Trump administration, and they raise serious questions about whether a governor can lawfully zero out a federal compensation fund through state tax policy, or whether this is political theater dressed up as governance.

The fund and the tax threat

The anti-weaponization fund emerged from Trump's settlement of his $10 billion lawsuit against the IRS. Trump dropped that suit in exchange for a formal apology and the creation of a $1.776 billion fund, the figure a deliberate nod to the year of the nation's founding, to compensate victims of federal government weaponization. Among those potentially eligible: individuals who participated in the January 6, 2021 Capitol riot. Trump, his sons Don Jr. and Eric, and the Trump Organization are not entitled to any compensation from the fund but will receive the formal apology.

Newsom wasted no time labeling the money a "slush fund." At his news conference, the New York Post reported, he laid out his intent plainly:

"Anyone from California that receives any of those funds, we want to tax 100% of those proceeds. And that's an action the state of California can take, it's an action we look forward to taking."

What Newsom did not explain, and what the announcement conspicuously omits, is the legal mechanism. No specific bill has been identified as the vehicle for the proposed tax. Newsom framed it as something California "can take," but whether a state can constitutionally impose a 100 percent levy on distributions from a federally established compensation fund is far from settled. The announcement reads more like a press release than a policy blueprint.

It is also unclear whether any California resident has actually received a distribution from the fund yet. If not, Newsom is taxing money that hasn't arrived, to people who haven't been identified, under a law that doesn't yet exist.

Blue-state pile-on

California is not acting alone. Just The News reported that New York state Representative Alex Bores has introduced similar 100 percent tax legislation that could see a vote as soon as the following week, while New Jersey is also drawing up comparable measures. The coordinated effort across blue states suggests this is less about sound tax policy and more about a political messaging campaign aimed at neutralizing a fund that embarrasses the prior administration's conduct.

The fund itself has drawn fire from multiple directions. Two Capitol police officers who defended the building on January 6 filed a lawsuit to block the compensation program, arguing it encourages violence by "rioters, paramilitaries and their supporters." And even within Republican ranks, the fund has generated friction. Senate Republicans have clashed internally over the fund's scope and structure, with roughly 45 senators attending a meeting with Acting Attorney General Todd Blanche to air their concerns.

Senator Ted Cruz, R-Texas, described the mood in that room bluntly:

"At least half of them were blasting the attorney general. They were p***ed."

That kind of intraparty tension is real. But it is a debate about how to structure compensation for people who may have been treated unjustly by their own government. It is not an argument for letting a hostile governor confiscate every penny through a punitive state tax.

Senate Bill 73 and the Riverside County seizure

The second half of Newsom's announcement, the signing of SB 73, targets a different controversy but carries the same political charge. The emergency bill, authored by state Senator Sabrina Cervantes, D-Riverside, and co-authored by Assemblymember Gail Pellerin, D-Santa Cruz, responds directly to an incident in Riverside County earlier this year.

In February, Riverside County Sheriff Chad Bianco obtained a search warrant and seized more than 650,000 ballots from the Riverside County Registrar of Voters office. Bianco launched the investigation after the Riverside Election Integrity Group alleged that the November 2025 election, specifically Proposition 50, a redistricting measure, was marred by a 45,000-vote overcount.

Local and state election officials pushed back, saying the group's claims were based on a flawed reading of raw ballot data. Proposition 50 passed by more than 82,000 votes in Riverside County alone and by 3.3 million votes statewide. Newsom said the seizure "broke basic election safeguards."

SB 73 now makes it a felony for anyone, including law enforcement, to seize ballots from a county elections office, punishable by up to three years in prison, a $1,000 fine, and possible civil penalties. It also bars law enforcement from searching or taking custody of voter rolls or voting machines without a signed warrant or an agreement with the election official overseeing the election. And it expands an earlier California ban on military or law enforcement personnel at polling places, giving the state attorney general and secretary of state power to overrule local officials who request such a presence.

Pellerin framed the bill's logic in straightforward terms:

"Ballots can be subject to inspection. They have to remain in the custody of the elections official."

That sounds reasonable on its face. But read the fine print. The bill does not merely regulate how ballot evidence is handled in a criminal investigation. It strips local law enforcement of the ability to act on a valid search warrant without the blessing of the very election officials whose work is under scrutiny. It centralizes override authority in Sacramento, with the attorney general and secretary of state empowered to block even a locally requested law enforcement presence at polling places.

In other words, if a county sheriff suspects election irregularities, the state can now shut the investigation down before it starts. That is not election security. That is election insulation.

Newsom's broader posture

Newsom used the news conference to position himself as the leading edge of state-level resistance to the Trump administration. His language was sweeping. He accused the president of not believing in "fair and free elections" and of "attacking truth and trust." He warned that Trump is "just winding up" and said California should "expect the worst."

"There's no rules anymore with the Trump administration. We have to be prepared for everything."

He also took a shot at Sheriff Bianco without naming him directly. "You had a guy desperate for attention, wants me to use his name today. I won't," Newsom said. Bianco, who is currently running for governor and polling in fifth place, did not respond to the New York Post's request for comment.

Newsom's rhetoric tracks a familiar pattern. He frames every confrontation with the federal government as a defense of democracy, civil rights, or the rule of law. But the actual policies he signs often concentrate more power in Sacramento, reduce local discretion, and make it harder, not easier, for citizens to hold their own election systems accountable.

Consider the incentives. A governor who signs a bill preventing local sheriffs from investigating ballot irregularities, just days before a primary election, is not protecting voters. He is protecting the system from scrutiny. And a governor who proposes taxing a federal compensation fund at 100 percent is not pursuing sound fiscal policy. He is sending a political signal that California will punish anyone who accepts help from an administration Sacramento opposes.

What remains unanswered

Several questions hang over both announcements. On the tax proposal: Has any California resident actually received money from the fund? What is the legal vehicle, a bill, an executive order, a revenue department directive? And can a state constitutionally impose a confiscatory tax on a specific federal program without running afoul of the Supremacy Clause or equal protection principles?

On SB 73: What happens if genuine ballot fraud occurs in a county whose election officials refuse to cooperate with law enforcement? Does the warrant requirement in the new law differ meaningfully from existing Fourth Amendment protections, or does it add a second layer of bureaucratic approval designed to slow investigations? And does centralizing override power in the attorney general's office create a conflict of interest when the attorney general is a political appointee with his own electoral considerations?

None of these questions were addressed at the news conference. Newsom offered slogans. The bill offers penalties. The tax proposal offers a number, 100 percent, designed for a headline. With Washington already locked in its own battles over spending priorities and legislative leverage, Sacramento appears content to wage a parallel campaign built more on spectacle than statute.

Newsom closed his remarks with a line that was clearly meant to inspire:

"We're pretty measured here in California, but we're resolved. We're drawing the line, we're holding the line, we're winning, and we are trying to inspire other states to do similar efforts."

Measured is one word for it. Another word is calculated. When a governor proposes a tax that may never survive a courtroom and signs a bill that shields election offices from the very investigators empowered to check them, the audience isn't the public. It's the primary electorate, and the national press corps.

Governing is harder than grandstanding. California's taxpayers, who live with the consequences of Sacramento's choices every day, already know the difference.