In a bold and polarizing decision, President Donald Trump pardoned Devon Archer, a former business associate of Hunter Biden, on March 25, 2025. Archer had been convicted in 2018 for his role in a fraudulent scheme that swindled over $60 million from a Native American tribe. The pardon, signed in a White House ceremony, has reignited debates about justice, political favoritism, and the tangled web of connections between the Biden and Trump families. Trump, waving the signed paperwork, declared, “Congratulations, Devon,” framing the move as righting a wrong. But the story behind this pardon is far more complicated—and compelling—than a simple act of clemency.
A Fraud Case with Deep Roots
Devon Archer’s legal troubles began with a conspiracy to defraud the Wakpamni Lake Community Corporation, a business arm of the Oglala Sioux Tribe in South Dakota. Federal prosecutors accused Archer and his partners of orchestrating a scheme involving worthless bonds. Through “lies and misrepresentations,” they lured investors into buying these bonds, only to siphon off the proceeds for personal gain—think jewelry and luxury expenses instead of the promised reinvestment. Archer was convicted alongside others, including Jason Galanis, who later pleaded guilty and admitted to masterminding the fraud. In 2022, Archer was sentenced to a year and a day in prison, ordered to forfeit $15.7 million, and to pay $43.4 million in restitution.
The case wasn’t straightforward. Archer’s conviction was overturned in 2018, only to be reinstated by a New York appeals court in 2020. His final appeal reached the Supreme Court in 2024, but the justices refused to hear it, leaving him facing prison time. Archer has consistently denied wrongdoing, calling himself a “victim of financial fraud” and pointing fingers at others, including Galanis, whom he described as a “serial fraudster.”
From Fraud to Political Spotlight
Archer’s story took a sharp turn when he became a key witness for congressional Republicans investigating alleged corruption tied to Hunter Biden, son of then-President Joe Biden, and his business dealings. In July 2023, Archer testified before the House Oversight and Accountability Committee, offering a glimpse into Hunter’s world. He claimed Hunter had put his father, then-Vice President Joe Biden, on speakerphone or invited him to dinners more than 20 times during business meetings. The goal? To flaunt the “illusion of access” to power and impress clients.
But here’s the twist: Archer insisted these interactions were casual—small talk about “geography” or “the weather,” not shady deals. When pressed, he told lawmakers, “I’m not aware of any wrongdoing by Vice President Biden.” His testimony painted Hunter as someone cashing in on the Biden “brand,” but it fell short of proving direct corruption. Still, it was enough to make Archer a Republican ally—and, in Trump’s eyes, a martyr.
Trump’s Case for the Pardon
Trump justified the pardon by claiming Archer was “treated very unfairly.” Speaking at the White House, he said he’d heard from “many people” that Archer’s prosecution intensified after he began cooperating with the GOP probe. “He was a victim of a crime, as far as I’m concerned,” Trump declared. White House staff secretary Will Scharf echoed this, noting the “tone and tenor” of the case shifted once Archer became a Biden family whistleblower. To Trump, this wasn’t just about Archer—it was personal. He told the New York Post that Archer had been “screwed by the Bidens,” a sentiment rooted in his long-standing feud with Joe Biden.
The timing adds fuel to the fire. Just months earlier, Joe Biden had pardoned his own son, Hunter, who faced convictions on tax and gun charges unrelated to Archer’s case. Trump’s move seems like a countermove—a tit-for-tat in a political chess game. Critics see it as evidence of Trump using presidential power to reward loyalty, while supporters argue it’s about correcting an injustice.
Archer’s Side of the Story
Archer, for his part, has embraced the narrative of victimhood. In a Fox News interview with Jesse Watters on March 24, 2025, he said he “never thought [he’d] need” a pardon because he “never did anything.” He recounted meeting Trump at the NCAA wrestling championships in Philadelphia, where the president offered “encouraging words.” Archer hinted at a sense of betrayal by the Bidens, telling Watters, “Once a Biden, always a Biden,” and suggesting Hunter and Joe had promised to protect him—promises that fell apart when the fraud case unraveled.
A Bigger Picture
This pardon isn’t just about one man—it’s a snapshot of a deeply divided America. On one side, Trump supporters see Archer as a casualty of a weaponized justice system, targeted for daring to expose the Bidens. On the other, critics argue it’s a blatant abuse of power, letting a convicted fraudster off the hook because he served a political purpose. The facts of Archer’s crime—defrauding a Native American tribe—get lost in the noise, raising questions about accountability and who really pays the price.
Hunter Biden, meanwhile, remains a lightning rod. Though never charged in Archer’s fraud case, his business dealings have been under scrutiny for years. Joe Biden has denied profiting from his son’s ventures, and prosecutors found no evidence Hunter swayed federal policy. Yet, the perception of influence lingers, amplified by Archer’s testimony and now Trump’s pardon.
What’s Next?
As of March 27, 2025, the fallout is just beginning. Archer avoids prison, but his resentencing (overturned on a technicality in 2022) was still looming before the pardon. The public is left wrestling with big questions: Is this justice or politics? Can a pardon erase the damage done to the Wakpamni Lake community? And where does the line fall between loyalty and law?
Trump’s decision has ensured Devon Archer’s name will stay in the headlines, a symbol of a polarized era where every move—legal or political—feels like a battle in a larger war. Whether you see it as a triumph or a travesty, one thing’s clear: this story is far from over.
