All Bork; No Bite

Buckle your seat belts. We are going for a ride on Mr. Peabody’s “Wayback Machine.” The dial is set to October 20, 1973. The location is the office of attorney general Elliot Richardson in the U.S. Department of Justice. Just as we arrive, Richardson’s phone rings. The caller is President Richard Nixon.

One day earlier, facing new pressure to release tapes of White House conversations related to the June 17, 1972 break-in at Democratic Headquarters at the Watergate Hotel, Nixon proposed what became known as the “Stennis Compromise.” Instead of handing over the source material, the White House offered to let then 72-year-old Mississippi Senator John C. Stennis listen to the tapes and report his findings to the Senate Watergate Committee.

In return, Watergate special prosecutor Archibald Cox would drop his demand for the original tapes. Cox, whom Richardson had appointed in May 1973, rejected the proposal. A week earlier he successfully defended his subpoena of the tapes before the U.S. Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia despite Nixon’s claim of executive privilege. Cox’s refusal to honor the compromise is what precipitated Nixon’s call to Richardson, ordering the attorney general to immediately fire Cox and shutter the office of the special prosecutor.

As Mr. Peabody and Sherman ponder the significance of this moment, Richardson puts the phone on mute.

Like Richardson, Ruckelshaus also refused to fire Cox and immediately resigned, after which, next in line solicitor general Robert Bork (yes, THAT Robert Bork) carried out Nixon’s order. The White House announced Cox’s firing and the resignations at 8:35 pm that night. The announcement, delivered by press secretary Ron Ziegler, included abolishing the office of special prosecutor and delegating its responsibility to the Department of Justice.

I bring you this trip down nightmare memory lane because it answers the question, “Where did Donald Trump get the idea he could get one of his MAGA stooges to do his dirty work if the few remaining members of this administration with a conscience refuse to?” Keep in mind, Richardson and Ruckelshaus were both Nixon appointees who refused to do his bidding.

The parallels to yesterday’s indictment of former FBI director James Comey are more than coincidence. For a chief executive of the United States, who always claims to be “the FIRST president in history” to do X, Y, or Z, this is an open and shut case of political plagiarism. In December 2020, attorney general Bill Barr named U.S. district attorney for Connecticut John Durham to determine if the FBI investigation into connections between Russia and the 2016 Trump campaign was “motivated by a conspiracy by U.S. intelligence and law enforcement agencies.” (Source: New York Times/January 26, 2023) Durham’s final report, released on May 12, 2023, without comment from then attorney general Merrick Garland, was a non-starter as far as Trump was concerned. The text mirrored deficiencies in the FBI procedures already covered in a December 2019 report by Justice Department inspector general Michael Horowitz, did not recommend any changes to FBI rules, noted that deficiencies had already been addressed and concluded “…the flaws in the investigation were not politically motivated or intentional and that the FBI had sufficient evidence to launch the probe.”

Trump’s reaction was more than predictable. Ignoring Durham’s findings, Trump declared, “…the FBI should never have launched the Trump-Russia Probe!” Furthermore, he made weaponization of the Biden Justice Department a campaign issue in 2024 and famously declared, if elected, he would be “your retribution.” Or as Trump’s former national security advisor John “next on the chopping block” Bolton said, “When Trump says your retribution, he means my retribution.”

Which brings us to January 20, 2025. As is common practice for new administrations, Trump replaced the Biden-appointed U.S. attorney for the eastern district of Virginia (which includes cases in the District of Columbia) with Erik Siebert, an experienced prosecutor having served in the Richmond division of the eastern division of Virginia since 2010. However, Siebert refused to bow to Trump’s demand that the Department of Justice prosecute New York state attorney general Letitia James for mortgage fraud, citing lack of evidence of any crime. Nor did he feel prosecution of Comey was warranted. On September 19, Trump threatened to remove Siebert, after which he tendered his resignation.

Now batting zero for two (Durham and Siebert), it was obviously time to bring in the designated stooge. In this case, Lindsey Halligan, who’s prosecutorial experience to date totaled (drum roll) NONE! But she had the credentials. In 2009 and 2010, she was a contestant for Miss Colorado, a subsidiary of Miss USA, a pageant owned at the time by (drum roll) Donald J. Trump. She studied broadcast journalism at Regis University in Denver. To her credit, she did graduate from the University of Miami School of Law in 2013 and was admitted to the Florida Bar in 2014.

Before representing Trump in the classified documents case, her entire work experience at Cole, Scott and Kissane in Fort Lauderdale consisted of residential and commercial insurance claims. Since joining the second Trump administration her primary responsibility as White House senior associated staff secretary was leading the effort to review exhibits and curatorial content at the Smithsonian Institution. She co-authored a August 12, 2025 memo to Institution Secretary Lonnie Bunch which included the following.

As we prepare to celebrate the 250th anniversary of our Nation’s founding, it is more important than ever that our national museums reflect the unity, progress, and enduring values that define the American story. In this spirit, and in accordance with Executive Order 14253, Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History, we will be leading a comprehensive internal review of selected Smithsonian museums and exhibitions. This initiative aims to ensure alignment with the President’s directive to celebrate American exceptionalism, remove divisive or partisan narratives, and restore confidence in our shared cultural institutions.

The memo was co-signed by director of the Office of Management and Budget Russell Vought. Certainly, Vought’s involvement did not mean to imply “I’d hate to see something happen to the Institution’s funding.”

Halligan’s rise to power makes no sense until you realize, who better than an insurance lawyer could explain to a museum director or a team of career prosecutors the terms of an “insurance policy” with the Trump administration. Kapish?

For what it’s worth.
Dr. ESP