The Architecture of Revenge: Unpacking the Indictments of Comey and James

The legal reasoning—that the prosecutor who brought the charges, Lindsey Halligan, had been illegally appointed—was technically sound and legally fatal to the government’s case. But to focus solely on the procedural exit ramp is to miss the terrifying scenery of the journey itself. The indictments of Comey and James were not merely flawed legal manoeuvres; they were the fully realized manifestations of a Justice Department weaponized for political retribution.

For years, the phrase "weaponization of justice" has been bandied about on the news, often as hyperbole. In the Autumn of 2025 however, it became the literal operating manual of the Department of Justice.

The distinct cases brought against Comey and James, while different in their legal specifics, shared a singular, undeniable DNA: they were punishments for disloyalty to President Donald Trump.

The indictment of James Comey on September 25, 2025, felt like a zombie rising from the grave of the 2016 election. Charged with making false statements to Congress and obstructing a congressional proceeding, Comey was accused of lying during a 2020 Senate Judiciary Committee hearing. The crux of the government’s case rested on his testimony regarding "anonymous sources" and whether he had authorized leaks to the media.

To the casual observer, the charges might have appeared substantive. Perjury is, after all, a serious crime. But a closer inspection of the indictment revealed a legal theory so brittle it crumbled under the slightest pressure. The prosecution hung on semantic disputes over the definition of "authorization" and the ambiguity of Senator Ted Cruz’s questioning five years prior. It was the kind of case career prosecutors typically reject for lack of "jury appeal" and insufficient evidence of intent.

And indeed, career prosecutors did reject it. The timeline revealed in court filings is damning. Erik Siebert, the career prosecutor originally overseeing the investigation reportedly declined to bring charges citing a lack of evidence. In a functioning DOJ, that would have been the end of it. Instead, Siebert was effectively forced out, replaced by Lindsey Halligan—a former Trump personal attorney with zero prosecutorial experience, installed as the "interim" U.S. Attorney for the Eastern District of Virginia.

The motivation here was transparent. Comey’s "original sin," in the eyes of the administration, was never about leaks or testimony. It was his refusal to pledge loyalty in 2017 and his role in launching the Russia investigation. For nearly a decade, he has been the white whale of the MAGA movement. Indicting him was not about correcting the record of a 2020 hearing; it was about fulfilling a campaign promise of retribution.

It was a signal that the protective exaltation of former high-ranking officials was over, provided they were on the wrong side of the President.

The Price of a Judgment: The Targeting of Letitia James

If Comey’s indictment was about settling old scores, the charges against New York Attorney General Letitia James were about inflicting fresh wounds. James, who successfully secured a massive civil fraud judgment against the Trump Organization in 2024, was indicted on October 9, 2025, for bank fraud and making false statements to a financial institution.

The charges stemmed from a mortgage application for a property in Norfolk, Virginia. Prosecutors alleged James classified the home as a 'secondary residence' to secure a lower interest rate, only to rent it out—a 'scheme' they claimed saved her approximately $19,000.

Let us be clear: Mortgage fraud is a crime but the federal resources deployed to prosecute a state Attorney General over a discrepancy in a personal loan—where the bank suffered no loss and the loan was being repaid—were disproportionate to the point of absurdity. Federal prosecutors do not typically hunt down borrowers who blur the lines between 'second home' and 'investment property' unless there is a broader criminal enterprise at play.

The 'broad criminal enterprise' here was simply Letitia James doing her day job. She had humiliated the President in a New York courtroom, striking at the core of his identity as a successful tycoon. The indictment was a transparent attempt to bankrupt her, tarnish her reputation, and perhaps most importantly, remove her from office. It was a 'shot across the bow' to any local prosecutor thinking of investigating the President:

If you come for the King, the King’s DOJ will come for your mortgage.

What connects these two cases is the mechanism used to bring them. The appointment of Lindsey Halligan was the linchpin. By bypassing the Senate confirmation process and exploiting the Vacancies Reform Act (and eventually violating it, as Judge Currie ruled), the administration circumvented the institutional checks designed to prevent exactly this kind of abuse.

The Department of Justice is built on the premise of independence. While the Attorney General is a political appointee, the line prosecutors and the investigatory process are supposed to be firewalled from the White House’s political whims. In the cases of Comey and James, that firewall was not only breached; it was bulldozed. The DOJ became a concierge service for the President’s grievances, shopping for a prosecutor until they found one willing to sign the indictments.

The use of an 'interim' appointee to force through charges rejected by career professionals is a tactic associated with authoritarian backsliding, not American jurisprudence. It suggests that the law is no longer a fixed standard but a fluid instrument of power, available to be bent by whoever holds the appointment pen.

Judge Currie’s dismissal of these cases however, is a victory for the rule of law, albeit a fragile one. The cases were tossed on a technicality regarding Halligan’s appointment, not on the merits of the vindictive prosecution claims. While the judge noted the 'irregularities' in the grand jury process, the ruling leaves open the terrifying possibility that a more competent administration, one that crossed its t's and dotted its i's on the paperwork could have succeeded.

The political motivation behind these indictments was never hidden. It was broadcast on Truth Social, chanted at rallies, and detailed in press conferences. The tragedy is not that the President sought revenge—that is in his nature—but that the machinery of the American government so nearly accommodated him.

James Comey and Letitia James are not martyrs; they are flawed public figures subject to valid criticism. But they should not be defendants in show trials. The motivation to indict them was not to serve justice, but to service the ego of the Executive. We may have survived this stress test of our democracy, but the cracks in the foundation are now visible for all to see. The precedent has been set: The Justice Department can be weaponized. Next time, the weapon might not jam.