Jack Smith's latest admission has ignited a firestorm among those who value constitutional protections.
Smith, the former special counsel, revealed during a Dec. 17 deposition to the House Judiciary Committee that judges approving nondisclosure orders for subpoenas were not informed his team was targeting the phone records of Republican congressmen, as reported by Newsmax.
His reasoning for the secrecy was to prevent a "grave risk of obstruction of justice." That justification rings hollow when weighed against the fundamental rights of lawmakers to speak and debate without fear of surveillance.
Judiciary Committee members pressed Smith on whether the judges knew the subpoenas demanded call logs from companies like AT&T and Verizon for about a dozen lawmakers. Smith’s response, "I don't think we identified that, because I don't think that was department policy at the time," suggests a deliberate sidestep of transparency.
Committee members warned that such actions could trample on constitutional "speech or debate protections" for legislators. This isn’t just a procedural hiccup; it’s a direct challenge to the checks and balances that keep government overreach in line.
The FBI’s probe into 2020 election interference included not just metadata collection but also direct surveillance of Pennsylvania GOP Rep. Scott Perry at his office and home, culminating in the seizure of his cellphone. This stands out as the only known instance of a lawmaker’s device being taken during the investigation.
Targeted lawmakers have pushed for the impeachment of federal District Court Judge James Boasberg in Washington, D.C., for approving these phone record requests. Smith’s testimony, however, implies the judge might not have even known who was being targeted, raising questions about who truly bears responsibility.
Senators caught in this surveillance net could receive up to $500,000 each if their electronic records were seized without proper notification, thanks to a provision in a bill signed by President Donald Trump during a historic government shutdown resolution. This financial remedy, while significant, hardly addresses the deeper erosion of trust in federal oversight.
Smith defended the seizures repeatedly, stating, "we got these records in a manner that was consistent with the law and consistent with department policy." That assurance feels thin when the very policies he cites seem to prioritize expediency over constitutional clarity.
The notion that department policy allowed such sweeping actions without judicial awareness is a glaring red flag. If judges aren’t fully informed, how can the public have faith in the fairness of these investigations?
Progressive agendas often cloak themselves in the language of justice, but moves like this reveal a troubling willingness to bend foundational principles for political ends. Lawmakers deserve to operate without the specter of unchecked surveillance looming over their every word.
Smith’s insistence on legality, as he reiterated, "There was nothing improper about how we got these records," dodges the ethical weight of the issue. Following the letter of the law shouldn’t mean ignoring its spirit, especially when it comes to protecting the voices of elected representatives.
The fallout from this revelation demands more than apologies or payouts; it requires a hard look at how far federal power can stretch before it snaps. Lawmakers on both sides should rally to ensure such overreaches are curbed through ironclad reforms.
The targeting of Republican congressmen in this manner fuels a growing skepticism toward federal investigations that seem to pick and choose their principles. If the goal is justice, then transparency with the judiciary shouldn’t be an afterthought.
This episode serves as a stark reminder that vigilance is the price of liberty, especially when unelected officials wield tools that can silence dissent. Restoring confidence will take more than words; it will take action to guarantee that no one’s rights are quietly swept under the rug of "policy."