
On January 22, 2026, the Rayburn House Office Building must have felt less like a chamber of horrors for Jack Smith
The former special counsel who Democrats once paraded as their incorruptible knight in shining indictment armor, sat under the lights looking like a man who just realized the exit doors are locked.
Republicans on the House Judiciary Committee—led by Chairman Jim Jordan—weren’t there to clap politely. They were there to dissect his legacy like kids pulling wings off a fly.
Smith had already dropped his two big Trump cases after the 2024 election (citing that quaint old DOJ policy against prosecuting a sitting president). But his final report from January 7, 2025, still clung to the narrative like a drunk to a lamppost: Trump caused January 6, knew he lost, and deserved every charge Smith tried to throw.
What the hearing revealed wasn’t new evidence of Trump’s guilt—it was fresh proof of Smith’s own partisan fingerprints all over the process.
The unique question nobody asks loudly enough: If this was truly about law and not politics, why did the “impartial” prosecutor end up looking so guilty under cross-examination?
Start with Darrell Issa, the California Republican who treated Smith’s testimony like a crime scene and himself like the lead detective with a grudge.
Rep. Darrell Issa (R-CA) gets Jack Smith to admit that he withheld the names of Republicans when he went to a judge to get an order put in place that would prevent anyone from finding out who he was monitoring and collecting private info on
The GOP should hold Smith accountable pic.twitter.com/pLVHtpBPmo
— Ryan Saavedra (@RyanSaavedra) January 22, 2026
Issa zeroed in on the subpoenas that snagged phone records from congressional figures—including Speaker Kevin McCarthy—without telling judges these weren’t random randos but elected officials whose communications enjoy special protections. Worse, Smith insisted his actions were “spying”. However, Issa wasn’t buying the semantics.
He pressed: Why hide the targets’ identities behind nondisclosure orders that gagged telecom companies and left approving judges in the dark?
In the brutal exchange for Smith, Issa likened it to Nixon-era dirty tricks upgraded for the digital age—except these plumbers came with badges and taxpayer funding Issa accuses Smith of spying.
Smith stammered through denials, claiming protocols were followed. However, the record shows his team knew early these records belonged to lawmakers yet pushed ahead anyway. Republicans highlighted how this breached separation-of-powers basics: You don’t rifle through the opposition’s call logs like they’re public property without at least a heads-up to Congress.
Democrats like Jamie Raskin interrupted like overcaffeinated hecklers. Still, Issa’s point landed hard: This wasn’t oversight; it was opposition research cloaked in subtle legality.
Conservatives have seen this movie before—IRS targeting Tea Party groups, FBI’s Crossfire Hurricane bias against Trump in 2016—and each time the Left cries “witch hunt” only when their side gets poked. Here, Smith became the living exhibit of how weaponization looks when the tables flip.
Brandon Gill, the Texas freshman with the delivery of a man who enjoys watching bureaucrats sweat, turned up the heat to barbecue levels.
Congressman Brandon Gill was sublime at today’s Jack Smith hearing.
Gill has moved into my top ten people of Congress…maybe top five.
Is he in yours?
If not, just watch this. pic.twitter.com/wgqSm4LUnR
— Mila Joy (@Milajoy) January 22, 2026
Gill asked the questions that cut straight to absurdity: Was Speaker McCarthy planning to flee to a non-extradition country with classified cocktail napkins?
Actually Gill asked simply if McCarthy was a flight risk. Because in his document to the court naming the unnamed person, Smith listed McCarthy as a flight risk, certainly to get the court to approve the warrant.
Smith, reduced to stuttering denials, couldn’t square his aggressive tactics with any reasonable suspicion of criminality from sitting lawmakers. Gill exposed how Smith’s analysis confirmed congressional ownership of the records almost immediately, yet nondisclosure orders kept everything under wraps for years—allowing unchecked access while claiming transparency.
The dragnet hit eight senators’ records too, bypassing minimization rules that should filter sensitive political chatter. Gill cited internal docs showing over 40 Trump associates targeted, including family members, in a sweep that looked more like political reconnaissance than a focused probe.
Smith’s defense boiled down to “we follow rules.” As if the rules allow spying on your political rivals under the guise of investigation.
This echoes conservative bedrock—government power must be restrained precisely because the Left loves expanding it against enemies. From Lois Lerner to Joe Biden, the pattern holds: Use federal levers for partisan hits, then act shocked when scrutiny arrives.
The question begs, “Did Smith look at the phone records of ANY Democrat?”
Jim Jordan, the committee chair with a prosecutor’s eye and a wrestler’s grip, saved the best for last by dismantling Smith’s reliance on Cassidy Hutchinson.
This is a pretty masterful 5 minutes from Rep. Jim Jordan.
He uses disgraced and discredited testimony from Cassidy Hutchinson to demonstrate how the truth simply didn’t matter to Jack Smith and the J6 Committee.
They wanted to GET TRUMP at all costs. pic.twitter.com/5IBjqxKZAE
— Andrew Kolvet (@AndrewKolvet) January 22, 2026
Remember her? The J6 committee’s golden girl whose dramatic tales—Trump lunging for the steering wheel, raging in the Beast—became gospel in their report, cited 185 times despite being hearsay debunked by actual Secret Service agents on scene. Jordan confronted Smith directly: You knew her credibility was shaky—stories shifted, sources unnamed, contradictions piled up—yet you still considered her for your case because nailing Trump trumped truth.
Smith hedged with vague nods to “corroboration,” but Jordan pressed harder: Committee staff coached her, edited her words to fit the narrative, turning testimony into scripted theater. Emails proved it. Smith’s final report still leaned on her timelines while ignoring rebuttals from a dozen-plus witnesses.
Jordan’s line cut deep: This wasn’t evidence; it was engineering. Conservatives have long called out the J6 committee as a partisan kangaroo court—stacked with Trump critics like Liz Cheney, producing a report more agenda than affidavit. Smith’s dependence on its flimsiest pillar showed his case wasn’t built to last; it was built to indict, period.
By the hearing’s end, Smith looked “rode hard and put up wet”, as we say in the country.
Democrats defended him with lines about “no one above the law,” but it rang as hollow as a campaign promise after election day. His cases collapsed not from new facts but from electoral reality—Trump won, DOJ policy kicked in, charges vanished. Yet Smith doubled down in testimony: Trump “willfully broke the law,” caused January 6, exploited the day.
Republicans hammered the hypocrisy—raids on Mar-a-Lago that rummaged through personal spaces, millions spent on probes yielding indictments that fizzled, all while ignoring exculpatory angles. The Left’s playbook: Stretch “justice” into a partisan slingshot, fire at foes, then cry foul when it rebounds. This hearing wasn’t victory for Democrats; it was exposure. They looked stunned that Republicans let Smith speak—because the facts did the talking.
What Republicans offered here wasn’t mere political theater. We can’t afford another Jack Smith slithering into power, armed with selective outrage and gag orders. We must demand real accountability.
Probe the prosecutors who turn badges into ballots, chain biases with oversight, restore justice as impartial instead of ideological. With Trump back in 2026 steering the ship, the swamp-draining continues—but only if we keep shining lights on these partisan piranhas. Laugh at the absurdity, sure—the stuttering, the deflections, the pretzel logic—but never forget: When the law becomes a tool for one side, the republic pays the bill.
