
The indictment of James Comey is not a victory for justice but a cautionary tale about what happens when a president turns prosecutors into political instruments. Donald Trump has spent years nursing grievances against the former FBI director who presided over the early Russia investigation. Now, back in office, Trump is pressing the Justice Department to settle his personal scores. The result is an indictment so thin, and so obviously tainted by presidential meddling, that it exposes Trump more than it damages Comey.
From the start, the case has been shaky. A grand jury even refused to endorse one of the charges pitched by prosecutors. What remains is a pair of counts built on disputed testimony and procedural quibbles, the sort of allegations normally handled administratively or dismissed altogether. No amount of legal embroidery can conceal how weak the case is. Even in a Virginia forum that Trump’s team assumed would be favorable, conviction is unlikely.
That is because the indictment looks less like law and more like revenge. Trump has made no secret of his wish to see Comey punished. He has crowed about it at rallies, demanded it on social media and ordered his subordinates to deliver. The prosecutors who went along are not acting as independent officers of the law but as political courtiers, putting loyalty to the president above loyalty to the Constitution. That debasement of the Justice Department is more serious than anything alleged against Comey.
None of this means Comey should be treated as a saint. His public career has been marked by questionable decisions. His interventions in the Hillary Clinton email case in 2016 were breaches of long-standing norms that arguably altered the course of a presidential election.
His handling of his own memos after being fired by Trump raised legitimate concerns about judgment. These choices damaged his reputation and deserve continued scrutiny. But they are not the subject of this indictment for good reason: They are not crimes.
By elevating minor procedural matters into felony charges, the administration has revealed both its weakness and its spite. It is one thing to disagree with Comey’s decisions; it is another to contort the justice system into a weapon against him. That is the hallmark of a vengeful leader, not a confident one. And the American public can see it.
The irony is that Trump’s obsession makes him appear petty and smaller. With wars abroad, economic strains at home and deep divisions tearing at the national fabric, he chooses to devote energy to old grudges. A president with vision would move forward. A president consumed by ego cannot.
Comey, for his part, has already moved on. He has reinvented himself as a bestselling writer of mystery thrillers and is already three volumes into a new career. One can almost imagine how a Comey novel would end this tale: a vengeful ruler, a sloppy prosecution and a jury unwilling to play along. The plot may yet prove prophetic.
Comey’s past missteps may be real, but Trump’s abuse of power is the greater scandal. The rule of law is too important to be warped into a tool of presidential revenge. The Comey indictment deserves condemnation. History will remember it as a misfire.

