GOP Civil War: Stefanik Slams Johnson, Threatens to Block Defense Bill
Paul Riverbank, 12/3/2025Power struggles erupt in the House GOP as Rep. Stefanik and Speaker Johnson clash over FBI oversight and defense policy, exposing party fractures and raising questions about oversight, trust, and legislative priorities.
A rare public feud at the heart of the House Republican leadership vaulted into view this week—a split less about personalities, more about the party’s direction and its vision for accountability in government.
At the center: Congresswoman Elise Stefanik, the top GOP conference chair and a close Trump ally. In a move that surprised even regular Capitol watchers, Stefanik bluntly accused Speaker Mike Johnson of caving to Democrats and shielding what she called “the Deep State.” Her grievances, aired in full public view, weren’t couched in carefully hedged language. On social media, she charged that Johnson blocked a reform important to the party’s base and vital, in her view, to restoring trust in federal elections: a rule requiring the FBI to alert Congress whenever it opens counterintelligence inquiries into federal candidates.
The standoff is not an obscure procedural disagreement. Stefanik’s position carries real weight—she sits on the committee that shapes the National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA), the muscle of America’s annual defense policy. With her vote up in the air, the already fragile Republican majority finds itself on a knife’s edge, and the fate of the NDAA—typically a must-pass bill—hanging in the balance.
Stefanik traces her concerns back to the Russia investigation of 2017, known widely now as Crossfire Hurricane. Back then, she pressed then-FBI Director James Comey on why Congress had not been properly notified of the probe into President Trump’s campaign. She hasn’t let go of the issue. The stakes, she argues, have only grown: “A criminal act that can never happen again,” she wrote this week. She insists her provision would put up a necessary guardrail, stopping future abuses before they start.
But she didn’t anchor her argument solely in the past. This week, she cited new controversies, including the so-called “Arctic Frost wiretapping scandal” and reports involving real estate investor Steve Witkoff. For Stefanik, these incidents reinforce what she sees as a pattern of government overreach—one that, left unchecked, gnaws away at public trust.
To anyone hoping for quick internal reconciliation, Speaker Johnson’s reaction suggested otherwise. He called her accusation “false” and seemed caught slightly off-guard, telling reporters, “I don’t exactly know why Elise won’t just call me. I texted her yesterday…” He positioned the matter as largely out of his hands, explaining that committee rules—and not any animus or lack of will—kept Stefanik’s provision from being included in the NDAA. According to Johnson, any addition still needs bipartisan committee agreement, and in this case, jurisdictional technicalities placed the proposal under the watch of the Judiciary Committee, not Armed Services.
Johnson framed himself as supportive in principle. “I support her provision. I mean, I would vote for it. I think it’s smart,” he assured. Yet the process, as he laid out, isn’t as simple as flipping a switch at the Speaker’s desk. Policy, in Congress, often winds a tortuous path between rules, personalities, and parliamentary procedure.
Stefanik, for her part, was unmoved by the Speaker’s explanation. After a closed-door briefing, she doubled down—declaring, “Yes, in fact, the Speaker is blocking my provision to root out the illegal weaponization that led to Crossfire Hurricane, Arctic Frost, and more. He is siding with Jamie Raskin against Trump Republicans to block this provision to protect the deep state.” The public rebuke, from such a high-ranking Republican, quickly ricocheted across Capitol Hill.
The tension comes at a time when House Republicans can ill afford public fractures. Their majority is razor-thin, making any dispute over major legislation like the NDAA as much a political flashpoint as a legislative headache. Beyond the numbers, these arguments carry implications for the party’s core identity—how it handles oversight of law enforcement, navigates internal rifts, and responds to the lingering anxieties of conservative voters about the integrity of elections.
Both Stefanik and Johnson say they support oversight. Yet it’s the “how” and the “when” that divides them. Stefanik, with considerable urgency, demands aggressive congressional intervention now. Johnson, for all his rhetorical accommodation, must grapple with the reality of a divided House, internal distrust, and the subtle machinery of the legislative process.
As the NDAA’s fate hangs in the balance, what’s at stake is hardly just a single reform or even a single bill. This is a contest within the GOP over direction, priorities, and ultimately the trust constituents place in government—and in those sent to rein it in. In an era of deepening mistrust, neither side seems eager to blink.