Trump’s Revenge Is Certain, and Perhaps Necessary
The reckoning is not vengeance but correction — and it was always coming.
For years, the political class and its press allies sanctified lawfare as justice. With the same tactics now closing in on their makers, cries of “tyranny” ring hollow. This is not vengeance. It is correction.
By Nick Holt
For nearly a decade, the political class, its media allies, and millions of citizens gripped by a pathological hatred of Donald Trump treated every subpoena, raid, and indictment as if it were a holy sacrament.
They applauded impeachment as proof that history itself was bending toward their virtue. Now the wheel turns, and suddenly the same machinery they built is “tyrannical”.
They told themselves this was democracy in action. But in reality, it was a campaign of lawfare without precedent — a system designed not to test evidence but to cripple a presidency.
Subpoenas became pageantry, raids became theatre, and indictments were passed off as civic duty. The cheering section was vast: journalists who abandoned facts for fiction, politicians who discarded restraint, and citizens who mistook hatred for principle.
The irony today could not be starker.
James Comey in the dock is not the scandal. He is almost incidental, the opening act in a reckoning that will reach every major player.
What shocks them is that Trump, the man they swore to erase, now has a hand in their humiliation. They never prepared for the wheel to turn because they believed they would always win.
For years they praised every legal ambush as proof that justice had been served. But the point was never justice. The point was paralysis, sabotage, and the destruction of one man and anyone near him.
It began with a whisper. In 2016, George Papadopoulos, a young Trump volunteer, told an Australian diplomat that Russia might have dirt on Hillary Clinton. No corroboration. No independent intelligence. No vetting. Just gossip. Yet within days the FBI opened a full counterintelligence probe into a presidential campaign. They had their quarry.
Onto this flimsy foundation came the Steele dossier — opposition research dressed up as intelligence. Partisan pornography, paid for by the Clinton campaign, laundered through Fusion GPS, and served to a public and press already conditioned to hate Trump. The claims were salacious, unverified, and contradicted by the Bureau’s own files. None of that mattered. It was useful.
From this stew came FISA warrants. Carter Page was surveilled on the strength of dossier claims so shaky the FBI’s own footnotes flagged them as unreliable. Exculpatory evidence was buried. Doubts edited out. Affidavits to the court read like gospel even as agents knew they were gossip.
Then came the leaks. Anonymous officials whispered to compliant reporters. Headlines declared collusion “proven.” Trump was compromised. The Kremlin had its man in the Oval Office. Rumor became revelation. Innuendo became fact. The press acted not as a check on power but as its partner.
Three years and $30 million later, Robert Mueller had issued hundreds of subpoenas and dozens of indictments. And at the end: no conspiracy, no coordination, no collusion. The case collapsed. The premise dissolved into dust. But by then the sabotage had done its work.
The goal was never discovery. It was paralysis.
When the Russia narrative collapsed, they reached for impeachment. First over Ukraine. Trump was accused of pressuring President Zelensky to investigate Hunter Biden.
But Joe Biden himself had already boasted on camera that he threatened to withhold aid unless Ukraine fired a prosecutor investigating Burisma — the company paying his son. The grotesque irony was lost on no one who bothered to look.
When Ukraine failed, they tried again with January 6. Trump was impeached after leaving office — a constitutional absurdity. The charge was “incitement of insurrection,” though his words on the day urged the crowd to remain peaceful.
Evidence was irrelevant. The prize was the phrase. They wanted “insurrection” carved into history like scripture, branding Trump as a permanent danger to democracy.
By the time Biden took office, impeachment was spent. Lawfare became the weapon of choice. In New York, Letitia James fabricated fraud where no bank claimed to be defrauded. In Manhattan, Alvin Bragg twisted bookkeeping into felonies.
In Washington, Jack Smith stacked indictments to choke Trump’s 2024 campaign with endless trials.
The Mar-a-Lago raid was the apex of the spectacle. Armed FBI agents stormed a former president’s home over a records dispute that could have been resolved administratively.
Bill Clinton kept tapes in a sock drawer. Barack Obama hauled truckloads of documents to Chicago. Joe Biden’s garage stored boxes beside the Corvette.
None of them faced raids. None were accused of espionage. But Trump was different. For him, boxes in a bathroom became a national security thriller.
And when even that wasn’t enough, they tried to erase him from the ballot under the 14th Amendment. It was such an obvious attempt at election theft that even the Supreme Court, in rare unanimity, slapped it down.
None of it could have endured without a press that, from the start, abandoned journalism for propaganda.
Each leak was reported as revelation. Every development was delivered with certainty: Trump guilty before trial, guilty after acquittal, guilty even when no crime existed.
When Mueller found no collusion, headlines spoke of “unanswered questions.” Instead of “sorry, we were wrong”.
Trump’s phone call to Ukraine dominated headlines, while Biden’s on-camera threat to withhold aid was “irrelevant”.
January 6 was branded an “insurrection” before any hearings.
And when the FBI raided Mar-a-Lago, the press flooded the air with images of boxes in bathrooms and whispers of nuclear secrets.
By the time facts intruded, the image had hardened.
This was not journalism. It was narrative enforcement. Propaganda 101. And the Trump-hating disciples lapped it all up.
The Wheel Turns
With Comey under indictment, the same voices cry foul. Suddenly they wail about “dictatorship” and “tyranny.” They beg for restraint, as if the very machinery they built had not been designed to crush opponents.
The plain fact is this: the system they created is now being applied to them.
And that’s what shocks them most — not the charges, not the process, but the fact that Trump now presides, at least partly, over their reckoning.
This is not revenge.
It is rectification.
Without consequences, the abuses would continue.
Without reprisal, bureaucrats, prosecutors, and journalists would learn the same lesson: fabricate dossiers, stage raids, run headlines, and pay no price.
Such systems do not fade politely into history. They escalate until they are stopped.
They made lawfare the game. Now Trump plays by their rules. Not with mobs, but with subpoenas. Not with violence, but with prosecutions.
The reckoning will not be glamorous. It will be bureaucratic, forensic, and merciless in its paperwork. That is the point. The tools once wielded for spectacle will be turned into tools of correction.
Call it revenge if you like. But history will record it differently. It is deterrence. It is balance restored. And it is a warning.
Because what is more dangerous — reprisal, or a system where one faction wages total war while the other is told to “rise above it”? That is not democracy. That is submission.
Learn the lesson or endure the consequences.
History has little sympathy for those who mistake hubris for authority.