The Comey Indictment

One sign you live in a dictatorship is if you can be silenced, or bankrupted, or imprisoned, or disappeared, or killed, not because a fair trial in a courtroom finds you guilty of breaking a law, but because you’re disliked by someone powerful.  That was how things worked in Mussolini’s Italy, and Stalin’s Russia, and Pinochet’s Chile, and in countless other authoritarian states.  The question is whether that will now be how things work in Donald Trump’s America.

How’s the scorecard looking?  Well, it’s still early days – it seems hard to believe, but Trump has been in office for less than a year – but so far, two comedians have been driven off the air (one temporarily) because they made fun of the president; nine large law firms have been sanctioned because they represented opponents of the president; eight top-ranked private universities have had their funding threatened because some of their staff or students expressed views obnoxious to the president; a number of U.S. cities either have had or will have troops sent to them because they tend to vote against the president; and now one of the president’s least favorite people, former FBI director James Comey, has been indicted by a federal prosecutor.

What is Comey alleged to have done?  The indictment consists of two exceptionally vague pages, but the issue seems to be whether he made a false statement to Congress on September 30, 2020.  On that day, in a committee hearing, Senator Ted Cruz asked Comey whether he had “authorized” a leak to the Wall Street Journal about the FBI reopening the investigation into Hillary Clinton’s emails.  Comey said he had not.  Comey is accused of making a false statement to Congress, i.e. of perjuring himself, and of thereby obstructing justice.

A little background: the original investigation of Clinton’s emails was always public knowledge, because it was journalists who broke the story of her using a private email server for State Department business.  In July 2016, Comey publicly announced the conclusion of that investigation by saying that while Clinton had broken some departmental rules, and had been “extremely careless,” she had not done enough to warrant prosecution.  In October 2016, the Wall Street Journal reported that the discovery of a new tranche of emails on a Clinton aide’s ex-husband’s laptop had led to a reopening of the investigation.  Among the sources for the WSJ story was at least one person from inside the FBI.

FBI investigations are not supposed to end up in the newspapers, because we are not supposed to hear about them unless someone gets charged with a crime.  As a general matter this seems fair: you can destroy a person’s life if you tell the world they are being investigated, even if, in the end, the investigation comes to nothing.  (Which, in the legal sense, was the case here: after a review of the new tranche of emails, the FBI stuck with its original decision.)  Matters become more complicated if the person is running for president, as Hillary Clinton was in 2016.  You could argue that the public has a right to know that a candidate is being investigated; or you could argue that the email scandal had already been fully-aired, and that everybody knew what Clinton had done, and that three weeks before the election, for a law enforcement officer to squirt lighter fluid onto this particular dumpster fire was to interfere in politics, which the FBI is not supposed to do. 

Considering the closeness of the election – Clinton won the popular vote, and would have won the electoral vote if 80,000 votes in Pennsylvania, Wisconsin and Michigan had gone the other way – the WSJ story may well have made Donald Trump president.  I must say, I’m impressed by the Trump Administration’s high-mindedness: they seem deeply concerned about whether Hillary Clinton got robbed that year.  Still, a leak from inside the FBI is a significant violation of protocol, which is why the Inspector General mounted an investigation of it.

Was Comey involved?  Comey’s then-deputy, Andrew McCabe, has admitted to being the leaker, although it sounds as if he might have acted not out of malice but because a reporter maneuvered him into saying more than he should have.  McCabe defended himself by saying that after the leak, he told Comey about it, and that Comey was “accepting.”  Calling an after-the-fact reaction an “authorization” seems like a stretch: “authorization” seems like something you receive in advance.  For his part, Comey testified that McCabe told him the leak had happened, but not who was responsible for it.  If that’s true, what McCabe took for “acceptance” may well have just been fatalistic resignation.  The publicity around the Clinton investigation was already a mess, and perhaps Comey did not feel that day like blowing his top about it.  After all, the horse was already out of the barn.

It seems to me that no matter who is telling the truth, Comey didn’t authorize anything, so his answer to Cruz was not a false statement.  However, suppose for the sake of argument we decide that it does matter whether we believe Comey or McCabe.  The case is a classic “He said, he said”: only those two men know which of them is remembering accurately, and perhaps not even they do – it’s not unusual for a person’s memory to be shaped by a fervent desire to believe that a mistake was someone else’s fault.  The Inspector General’s report found Comey’s version more probable – said, in fact, that it was supported by an “overwhelming weight of evidence” – because there’s no reason to think that Comey would have wanted such a leak to happen, as leaks about the Clinton investigation had already made his life miserable.  McCabe, when he testified, was under attack from all sides – he’d done other things to anger the Trump Administration – and was in danger of losing his job, his pension, and perhaps his liberty.  If he did mess up, he had plenty of reasons to misremember who was responsible.

Could the indictment – again, two vague pages – be about some other misdeed?  In 2017, Comey told Congress that after Trump fired him, he asked a friend and former advisor, David Richman, to pass on to a reporter some memos he’d written describing dubious presidential behavior, in the hope that this might lead to the appointment of a special prosecutor.  But Comey’s memos contained nothing classified, and both Richman and Comey were out of government, so neither had any legal or ethical obligation to keep those memos private, although the president may well have unhappy about them, as they made him sound like a Mafia boss.

I’m no lawyer, but the case against Comey doesn’t sound very impressiveEvidently it also didn’t impress the career prosecutors at the Department of Justice, because they declined to bring charges.  In response, Trump fired their boss, U.S. Attorney Erik Siebert, and gave Siebert’s job to one of the president’s personal lawyers, a young woman with no prosecutorial experience named Lindsey Halligan, who managed to obtain an indictment just before the statute of limitations ran out.  The old chestnut is that a decent prosecutor can get a grand jury to indict a ham sandwich.  Perhaps she can also persuade them to lunch on baloney.

One could argue that this indictment is not important in the grand scheme of things.  If the case against Comey is as flimsy as it appears, any remotely-honest judge will throw it out, and, to judge from the Trump Administration’s track record in court, we still do seem to have a preponderance of honest judges, with the possible exception of a certain segment of the Supreme Court.  A legal writer for the extremely conservative National Review says the indictment “is so ill-conceived and incompetently drafted, [Comey] should be able to get it thrown out on a pretrial motion to dismiss.”  So should we worry about this? 

To answer that question, you should first think about how it would affect your life if you were indicted.  To me, even if I were innocent, it would feel like a catastrophe: here I was, being accused in front of the world of being a criminal.  Presumably James Comey has been in the trenches, and has a thicker skin than I, so consider other issues: what lawyer could I get, especially if law firms are being squeezed for representing Donald Trump’s opponents?  How much would my defense cost?  The only imaginable answer is “a lot,” so would I be bankrupted?  Would I or my family start to receive death threats from some of the president’s more zealous supporters?  The latter is not an uncommon experience: ask Anthony Fauci, or Stormy Daniels, or any of the more than two dozen women who have come forward to accuse Trump of sexual harassment, molestation, assault, and rape.  Ask E. Jean Carroll.

Quite possibly Lindsey Halligan does not expect to gain a conviction, and is just trying to mollify her boss.  Quite possibly, also, for Donald Trump himself, while he would love to see Comey in an orange jumpsuit, this is less about winning a case than about lashing out.  He does a lot of lashing out.  Furthermore, he learned a long time ago from Roy Cohn that suing people left and right is a good way to keep them – and others – from standing up to you.  Being subjected to even a frivolous lawsuit is a nightmarish experience, and most people will settle rather than go through the meat-grinder.  In his current position, Trump has a lawyer – or perhaps we must now say a fixer – with the ultimate in deep pockets: the attorney general of the United States.  Mere citizens, even very rich ones, have a hard time competing with that kind of asset.

Paul Weiss and eight other big law firms have settled.  Columbia University and Brown University and the University of Pennsylvania have settled.  Paramount/CBS and Disney/ABC have settled.  Countless other institutions are undoubtedly altering their behavior and keeping their heads down in what one might call preemptive settling.  For every person who will stand up to a bully, there are five or ten or twenty who won’t, especially when the bully commands the resources of the U.S. presidency. 

At this point, I suspect Donald Trump’s main pleasure in life – he looks like an ill man, both mentally and physically – is to make people afraid of him.  Bob Woodward says Trump once told him, “Real power comes from fear,” and that, I think, is what Donald Trump wants most from his second presidency: to instill fear.  He is an old, sick, loveless person, and I suspect it’s the only emotional satisfaction he has left.  As his mental and physical powers recede, he’ll grab for any other kind his hands can reach.

An academic once wrote a book about Saddam Hussein’s Iraq called “Republic of Fear.  The question raised by the Comey indictment is whether that is the sort of republic in which you and I are now going to live.

~ STUDEBAKER (Studebaker@studebakerguy.bsky.com)

Next
Next

Rotten Boroughs in Texas