James Comey has never been my favorite person. Like a lot of Americans, I was deeply annoyed by his decision in 2016 to drop an October surprise on the Clinton campaign, seeing it as unfair and unnecessary (which of course makes it ironic that Trump is now persecuting him so relentlessly—since Comey probably did more than any other single human to put Trump in the White House).
But however annoying one may find him, Comey is—if nothing else—a Boy Scout. He follows the rules.
Even his decision in 2016 to reveal the existence of an FBI investigation into Clinton seems to have been motivated—not by a desire to harm either candidate in the race—but, quite to the contrary, to bend over backward to avoid even the appearance of partisan favoritism (on the off-chance the existence of the investigation became public after the election results were in and made it look like the Bureau had buried something to protect Clinton).
(This is similar to how the DOJ's prosecution of Hunter Biden probably wouldn't have occurred at all if he were an ordinary citizen, rather than the son of the sitting president—and therefore a perfect opportunity for the pre-Trumpified department to show how independent they were from White House control. Those were the days, am I right? Sometimes, you don't know what you've got 'till it's gone.)
Comey's marked Boy Scout qualities will probably serve him well in his present criminal defense. It's hard to imagine a more marked contrast between Trump's botched, sloppy, flagrantly politicized indictment—which no career prosecutor in the Department of Justice would sign, and which Trump had to overtly badger his own attorney general on social media—in broad daylight, for all the world to see—to artificially concoct—and Comey's own tendency to cover all his legal bases.
Indeed, as an opinion piece in the New York Times recently pointed out, an IRS audit of Comey during Trump's first term (which looks suspiciously targeted) not only failed to find any wrongdoing on Comey's part—but the IRS was actually forced to cut him a check for a refund. He had "conservatively overpaid his taxes," the Times writer puts it. There he is—"bending over backwards" again.
It is probably precisely this almost pedantic honesty on Comey's part that makes Trump hate him so much. Trump loathes nothing so much as decency or integrity, since he cannot understand them. He cannot imagine why anyone would be motivated by mere patriotism, honor, or loyalty to an oath of office—and so, when he sees it, all he can conclude (like the small-minded foster parents in Kipling's story "Baa Baa, Black Sheep") is that it must be some elaborate and unfamiliar form of "showing off."
Was not "showboat" Trump's preferred term for Comey, after all, in his first term?
Much as William Gaddis had to be shaving—he tells us—before, with a flash of insight, he realized that Newt Gingrich's "Contract with America" reminded him of nothing so much as Samuel Butler's Erewhon—that inverted land where poverty and sickness were a crime, whereas dishonesty was a minor peccadillo—so too, I had to be driving last night, and thinking about other things, before it came into my mind just what this situation most resembled—of course, I thought—Billy Budd!
After all, in Melville's great novella, the events are likewise set off by a conflict between two polar opposite natures—the eponymous Budd himself—the embodiment of good-nature and decency—and the master-at-arms John Claggart—the embodiment of brooding malice. Melville explains at length that it is part of the nature of certain villains—certain intrinsically depraved and malicious natures—that they cannot help but despise goodness and innocence when they see it. In fact, they want to attack goodness precisely because it is good.
And so, they set about setting traps and snares for innocence. In Claggart's case, he lodges a false accusation against Budd—bogus charges involving a concocted plan to mutiny.
One cannot help but be reminded of Trump's efforts to pin charges on Comey for supposedly conspiring to undermine his first presidency. One can easily imagine that if Claggart had access to social media, in Melville's day, he might spend his time penning long "Truth Social" posts declaring preemptively that Billy Budd was "guilty as hell!"
What strikes me most, though, is the similarity in motive between Melville's antagonist and our current president. They both want to strike at honesty and goodness precisely because it is so foreign to their own nature. They want to destroy it precisely because they envy it; they suspect it; they never possessed it themselves, and therefore, they cannot stand to see anyone else safe in the enjoyment of it. Above all things, they must destroy good-nature; so that eventually, the whole world will be as wicked and malicious as they are, and they will no longer need to feel inadequate.
And lord knows Trump has done a good job of it so far. He is well on his way to his goal. Nine months into his term, and he has already managed to staff the upper reaches of the Justice Department with people every bit as sociopathic and dishonest as he is.
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