He wasn't just another cabinet member. When Eric H. Holder Jr. took the oath of office in early 2009, the air in D.C. felt different. He was the first African American to serve as the United States Attorney General, a position that carries the weight of every legal dispute, civil rights battle, and national security threat facing the country. It’s a lot. People expected he’d basically be the legal wing of the Obama "Hope" era, but the reality was way messier and, honestly, much more controversial than the campaign posters suggested.
Holder didn't just walk into the Department of Justice; he tried to renovate it.
The guy has roots in the Bronx and Queens. That’s important because it shaped his perspective on how the law actually hits the pavement in neighborhoods that aren't the Upper East Side. He graduated from Columbia Law, worked as a prosecutor in the Public Integrity Section, and eventually became a judge. By the time Obama tapped him, he had already served as Deputy Attorney General under Bill Clinton. He knew where the bodies were buried in the DOJ, so to speak. He wasn't a rookie.
The "Nation of Cowards" Moment
Right out of the gate, Holder dropped a bomb. During a speech for Black History Month in 2009, he called the United States a "nation of cowards" regarding matters of race.
People lost their minds.
The backlash was instant. Critics felt it was insulting, while supporters thought it was the most honest thing a high-ranking official had said in decades. He argued that while we interact in the workplace, we retreat into racial enclaves on the weekends. It set the tone for his entire tenure. He wasn't going to play it safe or stick to dry, legalese-heavy scripts. He wanted to talk about the things that actually make people uncomfortable.
💡 You might also like: Percentage of Women That Voted for Trump: What Really Happened
This wasn't just about rhetoric, though. He followed it up by prioritizing the Civil Rights Division, which many felt had been sidelined during the previous administration. He pushed the DOJ to investigate police departments for "pattern or practice" of misconduct. Places like Ferguson and Cleveland became flashpoints where Holder’s DOJ stepped in. Whether you loved him or hated him, you had to admit he was actually using the tools of the office to poke at systemic issues.
Fast and Furious: The Scandal That Wouldn't Die
You can't talk about Eric H. Holder Jr. without talking about Operation Fast and Furious. It was a disaster.
Essentially, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives (ATF) allowed illegal gun sales to happen, hoping to track the weapons to Mexican drug cartel leaders. They lost the guns. One of those weapons was found at the scene where Border Patrol Agent Brian Terry was murdered.
The House of Representatives eventually held Holder in contempt of Congress for refusing to turn over certain documents related to the investigation. He was the first sitting cabinet member to ever face that. The DOJ’s Inspector General eventually cleared Holder of any "wrongdoing" regarding the inception of the program, noting he didn't know about it until it started falling apart, but the political damage was done. It became a permanent talking point for his detractors. It showed the friction between a DOJ trying to be aggressive and the bureaucratic nightmare of agencies acting without proper oversight.
Smart on Crime or Just Soft?
For a long time, the trend in D.C. was "tough on crime." Everyone wanted more jails and longer sentences. Holder flipped the script with his "Smart on Crime" initiative.
📖 Related: What Category Was Harvey? The Surprising Truth Behind the Number
He realized—and openly stated—that we can’t spend our way out of the crime problem by just locking everyone up. He directed federal prosecutors to stop seeking mandatory minimum sentences for certain low-level, non-violent drug offenses. Think about that for a second. A top prosecutor telling his staff to not go for the maximum penalty. It was a seismic shift in federal policy.
- He advocated for the end of the disparity between crack and powder cocaine sentencing.
- He pushed for the restoration of voting rights for former felons.
- He focused on diversion programs rather than straight-to-prison pipelines.
His logic was basically that the current system was breaking the budget and breaking communities without actually making us safer. He looked at the data. He saw that the U.S. has about 5% of the world's population but nearly 25% of its prisoners. To him, that wasn't a sign of a functional justice system; it was a sign of a failing one.
The National Security Tightrope
While he was being called a radical on civil rights, he was also the guy overseeing the legal justifications for drone strikes.
This is where the narrative gets complicated. Holder defended the administration’s use of lethal force against U.S. citizens abroad who were deemed terrorists, like Anwar al-Awlaki. He argued that "due process" doesn't necessarily mean "judicial process." Basically, if the threat is imminent and capture is impossible, the executive branch can act. Civil liberties groups were horrified.
It’s this weird duality. On one hand, he’s the champion of voting rights and police reform. On the other, he’s the guy signing off on the legal frameworks for some of the most aggressive counter-terrorism measures in history. It proves that the office of the Attorney General is never just one thing. It's a constant, grueling trade-off between liberty and security.
👉 See also: When Does Joe Biden's Term End: What Actually Happened
Voting Rights and the Post-DOJ Years
Since leaving the DOJ in 2015, Holder hasn't exactly retired to a quiet life of golf. He’s been obsessed with gerrymandering.
He leads the National Democratic Redistricting Committee (NDRC). He’s basically spent the last decade fighting in the courts to change how congressional maps are drawn. He argues that the way lines are currently skewed makes it impossible for the will of the people to be reflected in Congress. It’s a grind. It’s a lot of boring court cases and map-drawing sessions that most people never see, but it’s probably where his longest-lasting legacy will be built.
What Most People Miss
People usually see Eric H. Holder Jr. through a purely partisan lens. If you’re a Democrat, he’s a hero who fought for the marginalized. If you’re a Republican, he’s a "radical" who politicized the DOJ.
The truth? It’s somewhere in the middle.
He was a corporate lawyer at Covington & Burling both before and after his time in government. He’s a Washington insider. He understands power. His tenure was marked by a genuine attempt to modernize justice, but it was also hampered by the same old political games that define D.C. He wasn't a saint, but he wasn't the villain the talk radio hosts made him out to be either. He was a guy trying to steer a massive, slow-moving ship in a new direction while everyone on the deck was screaming at him.
Actions to Take
If you want to understand the impact Holder had or how the DOJ works today, don't just read the headlines.
- Read the "Smart on Crime" Memo: It’s public record. Look at how he changed the instructions for federal prosecutors. It’s the blueprint for current criminal justice reform.
- Look into "Pattern or Practice" Decrees: Search for the DOJ reports on Ferguson or Baltimore. These documents are a masterclass in how federal power can be used to audit local government.
- Follow the NDRC's Court Cases: If you care about why your vote matters (or doesn't), track the redistricting cases in states like North Carolina or Wisconsin. This is the "hidden" side of Holder’s work.
- Compare AGs: Look at the tenures of Jeff Sessions or William Barr compared to Holder. You’ll see that the Attorney General isn't just a lawyer; they are the person who decides what the "soul" of American law looks like for four to eight years.
Holder’s legacy isn't finished. Whether through the maps he’s fighting for or the sentencing reforms that are still being debated in Congress, the "Holder era" is still very much alive in the American legal system. It's a reminder that the law isn't some static thing in a textbook—it's something people fight over every single day.