United States Attorney

Based on Wikipedia: United States Attorney

In 2006, Congress quietly handed the executive branch a remarkable power: the ability to install federal prosecutors indefinitely, without Senate confirmation. It took less than a year for that power to blow up into a national scandal.

The story of United States attorneys is really a story about power—who wields it, who checks it, and what happens when those checks erode. These prosecutors are among the most powerful officials most Americans have never heard of, commanding the full force of federal law enforcement in their districts while operating largely out of public view.

The Federal Prosecutor Next Door

The United States is divided into 94 federal judicial districts, and each one has a United States attorney at its helm. Think of them as the federal government's chief law enforcement officers for their geographic territory. They prosecute federal crimes—everything from drug trafficking to public corruption to terrorism—and they represent the government in civil lawsuits where the United States has an interest.

But here's what makes these positions particularly powerful: each U.S. attorney commands an army of assistant United States attorneys (often called AUSAs or simply "federal prosecutors") along with substantial support staff. The largest offices employ as many as 350 attorneys and another 350 support personnel. That's a small law firm's worth of legal firepower, all pointed in whatever direction the U.S. attorney chooses.

These assistant U.S. attorneys wield extraordinary authority. They can investigate individuals, issue subpoenas compelling testimony and documents, file criminal charges, negotiate plea deals, and grant immunity to witnesses. When you hear about someone "cooperating with federal investigators," there's almost certainly an AUSA on the other end of that conversation, deciding whether that cooperation is valuable enough to warrant leniency.

Older Than the Justice Department Itself

The office of United States attorney dates back to the very first Congress. The Judiciary Act of 1789—the same law that created the Supreme Court and established the federal court system—called for appointing in each judicial district "a person learned in the law to act as attorney for the United States."

That phrase captures something important about the original vision. These weren't just prosecutors hunting criminals. They were the government's lawyers, representing federal interests in all legal matters within their districts.

For nearly a century, U.S. attorneys operated independently. They answered to no one in Washington because there was no one in Washington to answer to. The Attorney General existed as a position, but the Department of Justice did not. Each U.S. attorney was essentially a solo practitioner representing the federal government in their corner of the country.

That changed in 1870 when Congress created the Department of Justice and brought U.S. attorneys under centralized supervision for the first time. Today, they receive oversight and support from something called the Executive Office for United States Attorneys, a body created in 1953 specifically to coordinate between Washington and the 93 U.S. attorneys scattered across the nation. (There are 93 attorneys covering 94 districts because one attorney handles both Guam and the Northern Mariana Islands.)

The Appointment Game

Here's where the politics gets interesting.

U.S. attorneys are nominated by the president and confirmed by the Senate for four-year terms. This is standard constitutional fare—the same process that applies to cabinet secretaries, federal judges, and ambassadors. The Senate confirmation requirement exists precisely to prevent presidents from installing unqualified loyalists in positions of power.

But what happens when a U.S. attorney leaves mid-term? Someone has to prosecute federal cases while the Senate considers a replacement. For over a century, dating back to the Civil War, federal courts handled these interim appointments. If a U.S. attorney position became vacant, the local district court would appoint a temporary replacement to keep the office running.

In 1986, during the Reagan administration, Congress shifted this authority to the Attorney General. But there was a crucial safeguard: the Attorney General's appointee could only serve for 120 days. After that, if the president hadn't nominated a permanent replacement (or the Senate hadn't confirmed one), the district court would step in and appoint an interim attorney. This created pressure to move the normal confirmation process forward.

Then came March 9, 2006.

The PATRIOT Act's Hidden Provision

Buried in the USA PATRIOT and Terrorism Prevention Reauthorization Act of 2005 was a provision that eliminated the 120-day limit entirely. With almost no debate—the change was part of a larger package that passed by voice vote—Congress gave the Attorney General the power to appoint interim U.S. attorneys who could serve indefinitely.

Think about what this meant. A president could simply refuse to nominate anyone for a vacant U.S. attorney position. The Attorney General would appoint an interim replacement. That replacement could serve forever without ever facing Senate confirmation. The constitutional check had been quietly removed.

Senator Dianne Feinstein of California later traced this history on the Senate floor, noting how appointment authority had migrated over time: from circuit courts in 1863, to district courts in 1898 (because "the circuit justice is not always to be found in the circuit and time is wasted in ascertaining his whereabouts"), to the Attorney General with a 120-day limit in 1986, to the Attorney General with no limit at all in 2006.

Each step concentrated more power in the executive branch.

The Scandal That Followed

Within a year, the consequences became apparent. The dismissal of U.S. attorneys controversy erupted in 2007 when it emerged that the Bush administration had fired several U.S. attorneys in circumstances that suggested political motivations. The ability to replace them indefinitely without Senate confirmation made the firings particularly troubling—there was no mechanism forcing the administration to submit replacements for congressional scrutiny.

Congress moved quickly to restore the 120-day limit. The Preserving United States Attorney Independence Act of 2007 passed both chambers and was signed into law by President Bush himself in June 2007. The episode demonstrated how even small procedural changes can have outsized consequences when they affect the balance of power between branches of government.

What U.S. Attorneys Actually Do

The day-to-day work of a U.S. Attorney's Office involves an enormous range of legal matters. On the criminal side, federal prosecutors handle drug cases, financial fraud, civil rights violations, immigration offenses, public corruption, organized crime, cybercrime, and terrorism. The federal criminal code is vast, and U.S. attorneys have wide discretion in deciding which cases to pursue.

This discretion matters enormously. Federal prosecutors can choose to make a particular type of crime a priority in their district—cracking down on gun violence, say, or white-collar fraud—and that choice shapes law enforcement throughout the region. Federal Bureau of Investigation agents, Drug Enforcement Administration officers, and agents from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives all operate under the U.S. attorney's authority within each district.

On the civil side, U.S. Attorney's Offices represent the government in lawsuits. Sometimes the government is the defendant—a citizen suing a federal agency, for instance. Sometimes the government is the plaintiff, pursuing civil penalties against companies or individuals who have violated federal law.

There's also a fascinating exception to the government's monopoly on federal litigation. Through a mechanism called qui tam (from a Latin phrase meaning "he who sues on behalf of the king as well as for himself"), private citizens can file lawsuits on behalf of the United States. These cases typically involve fraud against the government—a contractor billing Medicare for services never provided, for example. If the case succeeds, the citizen who brought it shares in the recovered penalties. It's a way of deputizing private individuals to help enforce federal law.

The District of Columbia Exception

One U.S. attorney has a job unlike any other: the attorney for the District of Columbia. Because Washington is a federal district rather than a state, it lacks a state prosecutor. The U.S. attorney for D.C. fills that gap, prosecuting not just federal crimes but also local offenses in the Superior Court of the District of Columbia.

This means that everything from murder to shoplifting in the nation's capital falls under a federal prosecutor's jurisdiction. It's a peculiar arrangement that reflects the District's unique constitutional status—neither a state nor a territory, but something in between.

The Superseded Offices

The current map of 94 judicial districts represents centuries of evolution as the country expanded and reorganized. Some districts have been abolished, split, or merged over time. There was once a United States attorney for the Panama Canal Zone, for instance, which existed until March 31, 1982, when the zone was transferred to Panamanian control.

Perhaps the most exotic defunct office was the United States Attorney for the District of China, based in Shanghai, which operated from 1928 to 1937. This peculiar position existed because of "extraterritoriality"—a legal concept from the colonial era under which American citizens in China remained subject to American law, tried in American courts operating on Chinese soil. The Japanese invasion of China effectively ended this arrangement.

Alaska had an even more complicated history, with four separate districts at one point: the First District in Juneau, the Second in Nome, the Third covering a sprawling territory from Eagle to Anchorage, and the Fourth in Fairbanks. These were eventually consolidated as Alaska moved toward statehood.

Power and Accountability

The position of United States attorney sits at a fascinating intersection of law and politics. These are political appointees—chosen by the president, confirmed by the Senate, serving at the pleasure of the executive branch. Yet they are also supposed to be independent prosecutors, making charging decisions based on evidence and law rather than political considerations.

That tension never fully resolves. Every president wants U.S. attorneys who share their priorities. Every U.S. attorney operates within a political context. But the expectation remains that individual prosecution decisions will be made on the merits, not to benefit political allies or harm political enemies.

The 2007 controversy showed how fragile this expectation can be. When U.S. attorneys were dismissed under circumstances suggesting political interference—and when the administration had tools to install replacements without Senate oversight—public confidence in prosecutorial independence eroded quickly.

The lesson extends beyond any particular scandal. Procedural rules that seem technical—who appoints interim officials, how long they can serve, what happens when terms expire—turn out to matter enormously for how power actually operates. The 120-day limit on interim U.S. attorneys was just a number in a statute. But removing it shifted the balance of power between Congress and the president in ways that had immediate, tangible consequences.

The Prosecutors in the Headlines

U.S. attorneys occasionally become household names. Rudy Giuliani made his reputation as U.S. attorney for the Southern District of New York, prosecuting organized crime figures and Wall Street executives. James Comey held the same position before rising to FBI director. Preet Bharara became nationally known for his prosecutions of public corruption and financial crimes—until he was dismissed in the 2017 removal of U.S. attorneys that echoed the 2007 controversy.

The Southern District of New York, covering Manhattan and surrounding areas, has a particular mystique. Known informally as the "Sovereign District of New York" for its independent streak, it has jurisdiction over Wall Street, major media companies, and some of the highest-profile cases in federal law. The prosecutors there have historically maintained a reputation for independence that sometimes put them at odds with Washington.

But most U.S. attorneys work far from the spotlight. They prosecute drug cases in rural districts, immigration offenses along the border, fraud schemes in mid-sized cities. The work is consequential without being glamorous—the daily machinery of federal law enforcement grinding forward, case by case, in 94 districts across the country and its territories.

The Infrastructure of Justice

Behind every U.S. attorney stands an elaborate support structure. The Executive Office for United States Attorneys coordinates policy, provides training, manages budgets, and maintains connections between far-flung offices and Department of Justice headquarters. Selected U.S. attorneys serve on the Attorney General's Advisory Committee, helping shape policy for the entire federal prosecution system.

The United States Attorneys' Manual governs how these offices operate, providing detailed guidance on everything from charging decisions to plea negotiations to sentencing recommendations. It's an attempt to create consistency across 94 offices while preserving the discretion that makes prosecution effective.

This infrastructure reflects a fundamental tension in American federalism. Federal law enforcement must be consistent enough that crimes are treated similarly whether they occur in Montana or Miami. But it must also be flexible enough to respond to local conditions and priorities. U.S. attorneys bridge this gap, implementing national policy while exercising local judgment.

The system has endured for over two centuries, surviving civil war, world wars, political scandals, and profound changes in American law and society. It will likely survive whatever controversies come next. But its stability depends on respecting the boundaries between law and politics, between legitimate oversight and improper interference—boundaries that are easier to state than to maintain in the heat of any particular moment.