This week’s indictment of former FBI director James Comey resembles a dire moment from Game of Thrones. Picture Joffrey, cruel and self-absorbed, seated on his throne, demanding Ned Stark, the Lord of the North, to submit. Stark stands his ground, defiantly, and pays for it with his life.
In response to President Trump, Comey remarked, “We don’t live on our laps and shouldn’t.” As someone who once held a political position at the Department of Justice, I find myself aligning with Comey. I observe quietly, appalled by what seems to be a weaponization of federal law enforcement for political revenge.
And if anyone can face off against the White House, it’s Comey. This isn’t his first experience with pushback.
I first encountered Comey back in 2005 when I was deputy attorney general for President George W. Bush. At just 23, I was a press assistant, newly tasked with accompanying him on visits to various attorneys’ offices across the country.
Then, Comey was a towering figure, respected by federal agents and prosecutors alike. He wouldn’t submit to the White House, having earned his stripes as a federal prosecutor in the prestigious Southern District of New York. Later, he was appointed to one of the highest law enforcement positions during the early 2000s.
During a trip to Arizona, we were scheduled to meet with U.S. Attorney Paul Charlton, who would later be dismissed over issues related to standing up to the White House. I recall overhearing Comey’s senior team during a dinner, engaged in conversations beyond my understanding. Eventually, I would learn they were considering resigning.
Alberto Gonzalez had been appointed Attorney General and had a complicated history with Comey. In 2004, when the White House attempted to reauthorize a secret domestic surveillance program, Attorney General John Ashcroft was incapacitated post-surgery. As a result, Comey stepped in. He believed the program infringed on the constitutional rights of Americans and refused to approve it. There was even a dramatic moment when Gonzalez rushed to Ashcroft’s hospital bed to undermine Comey, only for Comey to confront him there.
This “hospital bed showdown” has become legendary within the Department of Justice. During this period, Comey and then-Director Robert Mueller stood resolutely against the White House, insisting on upholding constitutional freedoms. They threatened to resign if the administration did not back down. They managed to win that round, but the war was lost when Gonzalez replaced Ashcroft, and Comey found himself ousted for not yielding.
In his farewell address in August 2005, Comey discussed the “reservoir of trust and reliability” associated with being a member of the Judiciary Department. He noted how past officials had built that reservoir, which allowed the public to listen and trust what they said. But he cautioned that while it takes time to fill this reservoir, just one crack could drain it.
Now, looking at the current state of the Department of Justice, it appears there are significant leaks and the reservoirs are drying up quickly. We are in danger of losing the very foundations of our democracy. This is about an independent, nonpartisan judicial process that is essential for stability.
Let’s not yield to the pressures Comey and fellow Department of Justice members face. Our obligation transcends any single president, nation, or economy. We are committed to justice, serving not out of vengeance or political expediency, but out of a commitment to fairness.
Weaponizing the Department of Justice to pursue political foes is not only ethically wrong but also poses dangers to the very fabric of our democracy.
