Among the swirling parts of the controversy over President Trump’s firing of FBI director James Comey, there’s one that matters most. It stands in the way of the naming of a special prosecutor, the creation of a bipartisan, joint House-Senate committee to investigate the Trump-Russia connection, or the impeachment of the president.
It’s the lack of any known evidence of collusion between Trump and Russia in a plot to defeat Hillary Clinton in last year’s election. Unless such evidence—incriminating evidence—comes to light, Trump is likely to be off the hook, at least for now, and the uproar over canning Comey will begin to fade.
None of the current probes has found any, so far as we know. Dianne Feinstein (D-California), a member of the Senate Intelligence Committee, said recently that the committee’s inquiry hadn’t. Adam Schiff (D-California), ranking Democrat on the House Intelligence Committee, said he had discovered evidence that isn’t merely circumstantial. Yet he hasn’t revealed it.
The FBI investigation, the most extensive of the probes, has been looking into the Trump-Russia relationship since last July. If it had come up with evidence of malfeasance by Trump, we wouldn’t necessarily have heard of it. But given the likelihood of leaks, we probably would have.
The absence of evidence has put Democrats in a weak position in calling for an “independent” investigation. Senator Sherrod Brown (D-Ohio), in a press release, noted the Comey firing occurred “right in the middle of an investigation into White House ties to Russia. Coincidence? Maybe. . . . Now more than ever, we need an independent investigation.”
Coincidence isn’t evidence, though Senator Elizabeth Warren (D-Massachusetts) thinks it is. “Comey was fired because of the Russians,” she told MSNBC. “The timing makes this, I think, entirely clear.”
Democrats have thrown around words like “treason” in talking about Trump and his campaign team—without evidence to support it. In an editorial, the New York Times said Comey was fired “because he was leading an active investigation that could bring down a president.” Again, no evidence. The FBI, by the way, is not conducting a criminal investigation. It’s a counterintelligence investigation—into, presumably, Russian activities—and its very existence and whatever it does is classified, for what that’s worth.
The firing prompted fears that the FBI investigation, with Comey gone, would be diminished or short-circuited. The idea was that his successor would worry about losing his job if he kept the investigation going at full speed and would therefore slow things down.
Acting FBI director Andrew McCabe assured the Senate Intelligence Committee last week this would not happen. He said the White House hasn’t tried “to impede our investigation to date.” If it does, he promised “absolutely” to inform the committee.
McCabe was asked by Senator James Lankford (R-Oklahoma) if he needed “somebody to take this away from you and somebody else to do it.” In other words, should a special prosecutor take control? “No, sir,” McCabe said.
His most important testimony knocked down the story that Comey had sought additional funding to expand the investigation of the Trump-Russia connection. The Washington Post had headlined the story across the top of page one: “Comey sought more resources for Russia probe.” Democrats reportedly were told by Comey of this request.
But Comey had also met with Deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein on May 1. Rosenstein was the logical person to address such a request to. But the Justice Department insisted Comey had not asked for more funds to expand the probe.
McCabe’s testimony was crucial on this point. He said he was “not aware of that request, and it’s not consistent with my understanding of how we request additional resources.” He said the “Russia investigation is adequately resourced.”
The story had excited Democrats, giving them another reason to call for a special prosecutor. Without compelling evidence of wrongdoing, however, the work of the prosecutor—or “independent counsel”—would consist of a prolonged fishing expedition. Democrats would love that. It would keep the issue of Trump’s ties to Russia alive for months or years.
At the Justice Department, it would be up to Rosenstein to appoint a special prosecutor, and Democrats are pressuring him to do just that. They shouldn’t get their hopes up. Congress could name one too, but Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell has ruled that out.
In effect, Comey had become a special prosecutor without the title. He took over the investigation of Hillary Clinton’s emails and later announced she had been “careless” in handling classified information but wasn’t guilty of a crime.
With Attorney General Jeff Sessions having recused himself from involvement in the Trump-Russia issue and no deputy AG on board till April 26, Comey was on his own. He angered Trump by refusing to declare publicly that the president isn’t a target of the investigation, a petty offense at worst but a big deal to the president.
Once Rosenstein was confirmed, Comey was in trouble. The new deputy provided the case for getting rid of him. The case was legitimate—he’d overstepped his authority in deciding Clinton’s fate—but it wasn’t the real reason for Trump’s decision. The president wanted Comey out, period.
Trump had the authority to order the firing. It wasn’t an abuse of power. It wasn’t a coup. Presidents are allowed to discharge people who work for them.
It was politically problematic, though. The timing was bad. Trump’s prospects of getting his health care and tax reform agendas enacted this year may suffer. But there was no good time to fire Comey. Whenever Trump did so, it would cause a firestorm.
The controversy has been likened to Watergate, the 1970s scandal that forced President Nixon to resign. Indeed, they are alike in superficial ways—with one big difference. There was plenty of evidence implicating President Nixon.
Not so in Trump’s case. Yet the investigations will continue for months, and we don’t know what they will yield. It won’t take mountains of evidence to push him out of office.
Fred Barnes is an executive editor at The Weekly Standard.
