The Louisiana Supreme Court moved swiftly to freeze a 16-count criminal indictment against Attorney General Liz Murrill, finding that a New Orleans judge appears to have violated state law by sealing the courtroom where the charges were returned, and that sheriff's deputies handcuffed two journalists who protested their removal from the proceedings.
The high court granted the stay early Friday, barely hours after a New Orleans grand jury handed up the indictment Thursday on charges of intimidation and malfeasance. The speed of the intervention signals how seriously the justices viewed what they called procedural failures in the lower court.
At the center of the dispute is a bitter political fight between Republican state officials and Democratic leaders in New Orleans, one that now includes criminal charges against the state's top law enforcement officer, a sealed courtroom, handcuffed reporters, and a governor who has already promised a pardon. For taxpayers and citizens who expect courts to follow their own rules, the facts here raise hard questions about who is actually abusing power.
In its stay order, the Louisiana Supreme Court said Murrill had presented "a compelling argument concerning the disturbing defects in the grand jury proceedings and in the trial court's handling of those proceedings." The court went further, stating that "by all accounts" the New Orleans court "violated express provisions of state law requiring that grand jury returns occur in the public eye, in open court."
Louisiana law is explicit: grand jury returns must happen in open court. Judge Leon Roche ordered the courtroom sealed before the indictment was returned. The Guardian reported that Roche did not explain at the time why he sealed the proceedings, though a court spokesperson later said the closure was intended to protect grand jurors' identities so they could deliberate "freely, objectively and without fear of public exposure."
That rationale did not satisfy the state's highest court.
The stay order allows Murrill to "assert any and all necessary defensive pleadings, including motions to quash." It also explicitly preserves the right to file motions seeking the recusal of both the special prosecutor and the trial judge, a clear signal the justices see potential conflicts that need airing.
When deputies cleared the courtroom ahead of the indictment, two members of the media refused to leave quietly. Danny Monteverde, an investigative producer for WWL Louisiana, and Elana Beiser, an attorney for the same outlet, were handcuffed after protesting orders to exit the courthouse entirely.
Tod Smith, president and general manager of WWL Louisiana, issued a blunt statement:
"At no point should a journalist be detained for seeking transparency or asking questions about access to a courtroom, particularly when state law provides for proceedings to occur in open court."
Smith said Monteverde was "fulfilling his responsibility to inform the public on a matter of significant community interest" when he was restrained. The Orleans Parish Sheriff's Office responded Friday that its deputies "acted in accordance with the directives they received" to protect grand jurors and other participants.
Judge Roche filed his own reply to the supreme court, insisting: "The court never instructed [deputies] to remand or detain any members of the media." He added: "No members of the media were handcuffed inside the courtroom or in the court's presence." The distinction, handcuffed outside the courtroom rather than inside it, is unlikely to comfort anyone who believes the press has a right to observe public legal proceedings.
The Supreme Court's recent willingness to weigh in on contentious procedural disputes at the state level makes the Louisiana justices' rapid intervention here less surprising, though no less significant.
The indictment did not emerge from a vacuum. It grew out of a running confrontation between Louisiana's Republican state government and Democratic officials in New Orleans over control of the city's courts.
Republican legislators passed a law overhauling New Orleans courts that, among other things, abolished a court clerk position won by Calvin Duncan in November with 68 percent of the vote. Duncan is an exoneree who spent nearly three decades in prison for a murder he was later cleared of committing. He is listed on the National Registry of Exonerations.
Murrill and Governor Jeff Landry have long refused to acknowledge Duncan as exonerated. Duncan has said he believes state officials retaliated against him by eliminating the office he won. Murrill then told eight New Orleans officials, including Mayor Helena Moreno and District Attorney Jason Williams, that they could face removal from their jobs for opposing the law.
That threat became the foundation of the grand jury's case. The 16 counts charge intimidation and malfeasance, allegations that Murrill used her office to punish political opponents for exercising their rights.
The special prosecutor who obtained the indictment, Laurie White, is a former judge who previously served as an attorney for Duncan. White also has her own complicated history with Murrill's office: Murrill's team once represented White in a state lawsuit alleging White gave an employee lingerie at a Christmas party. Both the state and a related federal lawsuit were dismissed, the Times-Picayune reported.
The tangled web of relationships, White prosecuting the attorney general whose office once defended her, while also having served as counsel for the man at the center of the political dispute, is exactly the kind of conflict the supreme court's stay order appears designed to let the defense explore. The court specifically preserved the right to seek White's recusal.
Murrill wasted no time pushing back. Writing on X, she called the charges "retaliatory, meritless and unconstitutional" and said she would continue "doing the job the people of Louisiana elected me to do." She is Louisiana's first female attorney general.
Governor Landry went further, promising a swift pardon and declaring that Murrill would not have her reputation tarnished by a "kangaroo court." The promise of a pardon before a trial even begins is unusual, but it reflects the governor's view that the indictment was political from the start.
The Louisiana political landscape has already been shaped this year by court interventions, and this case adds another layer of judicial involvement in the state's governance.
The stay freezes the case but does not end it. Several unresolved issues remain. The specific acts Murrill allegedly committed under each of the 16 counts have not been detailed publicly. The identities of the other six officials, beyond Moreno and Williams, whom Murrill warned about removal are not clear from available reporting.
Whether Judge Roche or special prosecutor White will face recusal motions, and how those motions would be decided, remains to be seen. The supreme court's language about "disturbing defects" suggests the justices are prepared to scrutinize the lower court's handling closely.
There is also the matter of who ordered the journalists removed and handcuffed. Roche says he did not instruct deputies to detain anyone. The sheriff's office says deputies followed "directives they received." Someone gave those directives. The public deserves to know who.
As the nation's courts continue to assert themselves on questions of constitutional rights and government overreach, the Louisiana case stands out for the raw nature of the confrontation: a sitting attorney general indicted by political opponents, in a sealed courtroom, with reporters in handcuffs.
Strip away the legal jargon and the case comes down to a simple question: Did New Orleans Democratic officials use the grand jury process to punish a Republican attorney general for enforcing a state law they opposed? Or did Murrill abuse her authority by threatening elected officials with removal for exercising their political rights?
The answer matters. But the process matters too. Louisiana law says grand jury returns happen in open court. That did not happen here. The state's highest court noticed. And two journalists were put in handcuffs for noticing the same thing.
The broader trend of courts being asked to enforce basic procedural rules that officials ignore when politically convenient is not unique to Louisiana. But the brazenness of sealing a courtroom to indict the state's top lawyer, and then handcuffing reporters who objected, takes the pattern to a new level.
When the people who run the courts cannot follow the courts' own rules, the rest of us are right to wonder whose interests they are actually serving.
