June 13th, 2025 – Sacramento, California
The morning sun cast long shadows across the courtyard of San Quentin State Prison as a nondescript white transport van idled outside the main gates. Inside, a frail but alert Sirhan Sirhan, the convicted assassin of Senator Robert F. Kennedy, sat in silence. Just hours earlier, California Governor Gavin Newsom had issued a stunning executive order: using his power of clemency to commute Sirhan’s life sentence, effectively granting him parole. The 81-year-old Palestinian refugee turned convicted assassin, who had spent more than five decades behind bars, was now a free man.
News of the commutation, which came late the previous evening, sent shockwaves across the nation. Coming just months after former President Donald Trump issued sweeping pardons for those convicted in connection with the January 6, 2021, insurrection, Newsom’s move was widely seen as a direct response—a calculated, biting rebuke to Trump’s perversion of the justice system. The governor’s press office announced that Sirhan would be provided with state-subsidized housing, placing him in a modest but well-appointed one-bedroom apartment in Washington, D.C. Its location was no accident—just blocks from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services headquarters, a direct jab at Trump’s controversial appointment of Robert F. Kennedy Jr. as the federal Secretary of Health and Human Services.
“If insurrectionists deserve clemency, so does Sirhan”
In a press conference held at the Governor’s Office in the California State Capitol, Newsom delivered a measured but scathing defense of his decision.
“Donald Trump has made a mockery of justice by granting blanket pardons to those who stormed the Capitol, attacked police officers, and sought to overturn a lawful election. If such individuals—domestic terrorists by any reasonable definition—deserve a second chance in his eyes, then surely a man who has spent over fifty years behind bars for a crime committed in a vastly different era merits at least the same consideration.”
The governor continued, directly tying the move to RFK Jr.’s tenure at HHS.
“This administration has chosen to empower a conspiracy theorist with an HHS appointment, dishonoring the Kennedy name far more than Sirhan ever could. If Robert F. Kennedy Jr. wishes to set federal health policy despite his history of misinformation, then I see no reason why Sirhan Sirhan should not be afforded the opportunity to live out his days in peace near the very agency his victim’s son now desecrates.”
The backlash was immediate. The Kennedy family—long opposed to Sirhan’s release—provided no comment beyond reiterating their opposition to RFK Jr. and his appointment to HHS, perhaps the first and only time they had felt solidarity with a California governor since their father was still around to shake hands with one.
Robert F. Kennedy Jr., now leading HHS, was reportedly livid, calling the commutation “a cruel and unnecessary provocation.” When asked if he would seek federal intervention to block Sirhan’s release, he demurred but did not rule it out—though his press secretary later noted he had also not ruled out consulting an astrology chart or a bottle of essential oils.
Republicans, meanwhile, accused Newsom of reckless political theater. House Speaker Mike Johnson called it “a disgusting, partisan stunt that demonstrates the utter depravity of today’s Democratic Party.” His press conference was abruptly cut short, however, when his phone buzzed mid-sentence, prompting a flustered expression before he quickly excused himself—reportedly to take a call from his son, who had just received a troubling Covenant Eyes “porn viewed” alert from Johnson’s own account. Texas Governor Greg Abbott went even further, announcing that California law enforcement officers involved in Sirhan’s release would be banned from participating in national policing exchanges in Texas, though given the state of California-Texas relations, this was akin to banning someone from attending a party they had no interest in showing up to in the first place.
But Newsom found support among progressives. Some within the Democratic Party viewed it as a shrewd maneuver—one that forced Republicans to reckon with their own hypocrisy regarding Trump’s January 6th pardons. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez took to social media, posting, “You can’t celebrate insurrectionists walking free while clutching your pearls over the release of an 81-year-old man. Newsom just called their bluff.”
By mid-afternoon, the white transport van carrying Sirhan arrived at his new residence, a government-subsidized apartment in Washington, D.C., within eyesight of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services building. The location, though chosen for its political symbolism, was also intended to place Sirhan under heavy scrutiny. Under the administration of Mayor Muriel Bowser, the Democratic-led city government arranged for a round-the-clock security detail to keep Sirhan under discreet surveillance, ensuring his safety while refraining from intervening in his daily activities or decisions—unless he tried something truly outrageous, like finding himself in a moment eerily familiar, as if history had decided to take another shot at making a name for itself.
Inside, Sirhan—who had long maintained that he had no recollection of the assassination—surveyed his new home. The apartment was modest but modern, furnished with basic necessities provided by the city government. He would be monitored under a supervised release program, but with no restrictions on his movements or interactions.
Civil rights groups, while divided on Newsom’s motivations, praised the state’s commitment to rehabilitation. “California has one of the harshest parole systems in the country,” said legal scholar and former public defender Premal Dharia. “If Newsom’s decision forces us to rethink that, even in this hyper-politicized moment, it will have done some good.”
As the days passed, the commutation dominated the national conversation. A flurry of lawsuits emerged, some attempting to block Sirhan’s release, others challenging Trump’s January 6 pardons as legally dubious. Democrats in Congress seized on the moment to push for new clemency oversight laws, proposing a constitutional amendment to limit a president’s ability to issue blanket pardons for political allies. Meanwhile, Trump’s allies in the House vowed retaliation, with some proposing state-level refusals to extradite individuals indicted by California courts, though given the tendency of certain red state police departments to misplace evidence, ignore subpoenas, and conveniently forget about investigations, it was unclear if anyone would have even noticed.
As the political firestorm raged, Newsom remained defiant. In an interview with Jake Tapper on CNN, he laid bare his calculus: “If the rule of law is to mean anything, it must be applied evenly. Donald Trump has signaled that political violence is excusable if it serves his ends. I refuse to accept that precedent. If we are to entertain second chances for the perpetrators of January 6, then we must be willing to entertain them for all.”
By the end of the month, protests had erupted across Washington, both for and against the commutation. Newsom’s decision received near-universal approval outside of MAGA circles, with even some moderates acknowledging the move as a necessary counterbalance to Trump’s abuse of the pardon system. The political establishment, still reeling from Trump’s return to power, now had to contend with a Democratic governor willing to fight fire with fire.
And in a quiet apartment near the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services in Washington, D.C., an elderly man sat by the window, watching history unfold—again, as if caught in some bizarre political remake that nobody had asked for but everyone was now forced to watch.