Less than a year into Trump’s second administration, the attack on democratic institutions is palpable. Among the most alarming targets are law school clinics—programs where students provide vital legal services to those who cannot afford them. In recent months, congressional investigations and political grandstanding have singled out public-interest clinics at major universities not for misconduct, but for the clients they serve.
In March, the U.S. House Committee on Education and the Workforce launched an investigation into Northwestern University’s law clinics, demanding detailed records from over 20 legal clinics and centers. The inquiry included internal budgets, funding sources, the personnel file of a clinic director, and all payments made to outside entities since 2020.
The catalyst was a clinic’s representation of organizers of a pro-Palestinian protest that blocked traffic at Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport in April 2024. After the House Committee sent its letter, two professors at Northwestern filed a federal lawsuit arguing the congressional inquiry violated the Constitution’s guarantees of free speech, due process, equal protection, and the right to counsel. Only after public outcry and legal pushback did the House quietly drop the inquiry. That withdrawal ended the immediate dispute but left a chilling message: represent the “wrong” client, and your school could face federal scrutiny.
A few months later the same Committee held a hearing questioning university leaders from Georgetown University, U.C. Berkeley, and the City University of New York (CUNY). During the hearing, Rep. Elise Stefanik (R-NY) questioned the employment of a professor who directs the Creating Law Enforcement Accountability & Responsibility (CLEAR) Clinic at CUNY School of Law, which provides three primary services free of charge: legal representation and consultation; know-your-rights workshops; and support for community organizing. During the hearing, Stefanik called for the clinic’s director to be fired for providing legal representation to individuals like Mahmoud Khalil, who was detained for participating in peaceful protests for Palestinians’ rights and whom the administration is still seeking to re-detain and deport.
Let’s be clear: representing Mr. Khalil is also a defense of the Constitution, which guarantees every person—citizen or not—the rights to free speech, due process, and a fair hearing. Recently, the Equality Justice Clinic at CUNY Law also joined a First Amendment lawsuit on his behalf, arguing that the U.S. government has used the threat of legal sanctions and other forms of coercion to suppress disfavored speech.
Taken together, these actions reflect a broader strategy of intimidating clinics by targeting the very clients whose representation is most essential to the rule of law.
Public interest law clinics are cornerstones of legal education and democratic accountability. They train the next generation of lawyers and provide representation to individuals and communities otherwise voiceless in the legal system. From housing disputes to immigration defense to civil rights litigation, legal clinics often provide a last line of defense for the most vulnerable—people facing eviction, deportation, loss of health care, gender-based violence, surveillance, or discrimination.
Importantly, law school clinics are not theoretical exercises—they engage in the actual practice of law and are a core part of the legal system itself. Faculty and students working within these clinics operate under the same professional responsibility rules that govern licensed attorneys, including duties of confidentiality, loyalty, and zealous representation. As such, any political interference with clinic advocacy risks not only academic freedom but also ethical and constitutional obligations owed to clients.
This is not a partisan issue. The right to legal representation, especially for the most vulnerable, is a foundational principle of American justice that has historically drawn support from across the political spectrum. Attacks on legal clinics for representing marginalized clients—whether immigrants, incarcerated individuals, or low-income defendants—not only misrepresent the role of public interest law, but also run counter to the core values long embraced by both Democratic and Republican traditions. Conservative and liberal jurists alike have recognized that access to counsel and equal protection under the law are fundamental constitutional guarantees. From the landmark Gideon v. Wainwright (1963) decision to modern-day rulings, the principle that everyone deserves a fair defense has been repeatedly upheld. While some actors may now seek to narrow or reinterpret these rights, that effort is a departure from—not a continuation of—the broader bipartisan legacy of support for clinic legal advocacy.
In cases like the Northwestern case, Bedi v. House Committee on Education and the Workforce, courts have been called upon to assess whether congressional inquiries into the work of law school clinics infringe upon First Amendment protections. These cases illustrate that such inquiries are not routine congressional oversight. Rather, the inquiries implicate core constitutional guarantees, including academic freedom, freedom of expression, and the right to provide legal representation unencumbered by political interference. The right to a legal defense—even for the most marginalized or controversial—is a defining feature separating democracy from dictatorship.
These attacks may feel uniquely American, but they follow a pattern that’s becoming all too familiar around the world. Anyone following the global erosion of democracy will recognize these tactics. In Hungary, Viktor Orbán’s government expelled the Central European University and cracked down on independent institutions. In India, the Modi government has arrested students and professors under anti-terrorism laws for dissent. In Turkey, President Erdoğan’s administration has dismissed thousands of academics and shut down universities under the guise of national security.
The through-line is clear: governments seeking to consolidate power often begin by undermining institutions that cultivate independent judgment and critical inquiry. When members of Congress attack law clinics for defending constitutional rights, they are following the same script.
These tactics reflect a broader global pattern of institutional interference, wherein government actors deploy legal and administrative mechanisms to undermine academic autonomy and suppress forms of advocacy perceived as politically oppositional. Law clinics in the United States are increasingly becoming entangled in this transnational trend, signaling a concerning alignment with global patterns of democratic backsliding.
Authoritarians attack educational institutions because an informed public equipped with critical thinking skills threatens their hold on power. Law clinics teach critical inquiry and values of service and justice. When students represent the marginalized—those denied healthcare, displaced from homes, silenced in court—they embody democracy’s core. Trump-aligned members of Congress targeting law clinics do so precisely because of this critical role they play. They seem untroubled by the fact that these attacks are recycling familiar authoritarian tactics.
The current attacks echo earlier efforts to curtail clinic independence. In the early 2000s, the Tulane Environmental Law Clinic in Louisiana became a national flashpoint after it assisted local residents in challenging the siting of a polyvinyl chloride plant in a Black community. In response, then-Governor Mike Foster and industry allies pushed for regulatory changes that severely limited the clinic’s capacity to serve clients, forcing clinics across the country to reckon with new legal and political risks. These efforts were not about misconduct, but about silencing advocacy that threatened corporate and political interests. The current wave of attacks echoes this history, using the machinery of government to chill dissent and dismantle institutions designed to empower ordinary people.
These moments exemplify a recurring strategy aimed at neutralizing legal resistance through systemic disempowerment—manifested in funding constraints, encroachments on academic freedom, and the imposition of external oversight over case selection. Such measures are not designed to enhance institutional governance, but rather to suppress dissenting voices and curtail oppositional advocacy.
What is needed now is not fewer clinics, but more of them. The U.S. needs to strengthen civic education, protect academic freedom, and invest in institutions that uphold democratic governance. A clear and collective commitment to democratic renewal—both domestically and globally—is essential.
Domestically, this means safeguarding the independence of universities and other institutions, protecting advocates and lawyers, and expanding public access to legal representation—especially for marginalized and politically unpopular clients. How so? By enacting legislation that shields law clinics and legal educators from political retribution for the clients they represent. States and Congress should establish clear protections for clinical faculty, students, and university programs against coercive oversight or retaliation based solely on the substance of their advocacy. Universities must reaffirm policies that guarantee academic freedom and clinic autonomy in case selection, free from donor or political interference. Bar associations and legal institutions should strengthen professional protections for lawyers—including students—who face threats or career consequences for taking on disfavored cases. And crucially, public funding for legal clinics and indigent defense must be expanded, not cut, to ensure equal access to justice is not reserved for the politically convenient.
At the global level, authoritarian forces are networked and increasingly coordinated in consolidating their power. Countering this trend demands an international movement for rights—one that treats democracy as a collective, global endeavor rather than a purely domestic concern. Legal scholars, activists, educators, and students across borders should build transnational coalitions not only to exchange strategies, but to develop new legal frameworks, and coordinate responses to democratic erosion—just as authoritarians themselves have become increasingly global in their tactics. These coalitions could connect law school clinics, human rights lawyers, and legal educators to share litigation models, create rapid-response legal toolkits, and defend colleagues facing political retaliation. While global networks like the Global Alliance for Justice Education and the International Network of Civil Liberties Organizations offer starting points, what is urgently needed now is a purpose-built legal-defense alliance and infrastructure capable of confronting authoritarian threats that transcend national borders.
Democracy doesn’t crumble overnight. It erodes through institutional attacks, cultural repression, and political intimidation. When law students or their professors are punished for defending unpopular clients, when universities are threatened for teaching critical thinking, and when lawyers are surveilled or sanctioned for their advocacy—these are all warning signs.
Renewing democracy demands more than vigilance. It demands deep investment in the institutions that cultivate critical thinking, civic engagement, and a commitment to justice. Law schools—and especially law clinics—are indispensable to this work. Protecting them is not just about preserving education. It’s about ensuring a future where rights are upheld, representation matters, and justice is not a privilege, but a guarantee.
* * *
What Americans are witnessing is a concerted effort to delegitimize legal defense for marginalized or politically disfavored people—and to send a warning to law students and educators against challenging state power. This is a dangerous precedent. As others have shown, this pattern is not new. Clinics have historically faced attacks from elected officials, donors, and political actors seeking to silence advocacy that threatens powerful interests. Across contexts–whether in environmental justice, immigrant rights, or civil liberties–the common denominator is interference aimed at suppressing dissent through legal intimidation.
These attacks are not isolated incidents—they are part of a broader authoritarian playbook aimed at silencing dissent, weakening the rule of law, and undermining democracy itself.







