Jordan Demands Secret Testimony: GOP Uncovers Smith’s “Witch Hunt” Tactics

Paul Riverbank, 12/4/2025A closed-door subpoena for former special counsel Jack Smith deepens partisan battles in Congress, spotlighting fierce disputes over transparency, oversight, and the public’s right to know the truth behind Trump-era investigations. The real story, for now, remains hidden from public view.

Jordan’s letter thudded onto Smith’s desk with no effort at subtlety: “Due to your service as Special Counsel, the Committee believes that you possess information that is vital to its oversight of this matter,” it read. The rhetoric wasn’t exactly coded. Oversight, in this case, meant poking into Smith’s handling of Donald Trump—whose legal entanglements had already managed to split half the country into warring camps.

Smith, silent for much of the months-long spectacle, didn’t send up flares or issue a bombastic statement. Instead, his lawyer, Peter Koski, quietly confirmed Smith would play along, albeit with some reservations. Koski explained that Smith had earlier asked for the chance to testify publicly, back in the untempered days of October, but Republicans had, for reasons unexplained, closed that door. “We are disappointed that offer was rejected, and that the American people will be denied the opportunity to hear directly from Jack on these topics,” Koski said, not quite disguising his frustration. “Jack looks forward to meeting with the committee later this month.”

That missed chance for the spotlight wasn’t lost on House Democrats. Jamie Raskin, the Maryland congressman who’s made a career out of parliamentary showdowns, wasted no time in accusing Jordan, and by extension his whole committee, of stonewalling. In his version, Republicans were chasing shadows and seeking ammunition for partisan talking points—preferably in private. “Chairman Jordan has denied Special Counsel Jack Smith’s offer to speak publicly to the whole Congress and the whole country about his investigations … instead demanding he comply with a subpoena for a closed-door, private session simply so Republicans can spin, distort, and cherry-pick his remarks through press leaks,” Raskin charged, trading subtlety for blunt scorn.

The scuffle, in many ways, is exactly what politics in Washington has devolved into—a protracted argument not simply about facts, but about who controls their telling. Both parties claim transparency as a guiding principle, but each wants to set the terms. Smith and his team spent months in the shadow of relentless suspicion. The cases—one accusing Trump of hoarding government secrets in Florida, the other probing alleged schemes to overturn a national election—echoed through cable news cycles and congressional halls alike. Each indictment deepened divides, setting up another chapter in America’s struggle to adjudicate its own history in real time.

If Smith bristled under accusations that he’d weaponized the law, he rarely let on. At a public event in London—a far cry from the D.C. echo chamber—he shot back: “The idea that politics would play a role in our cases is absolutely ludicrous.” His accusers, however, weren’t convinced. Jordan’s allies kept hammering away, casting all sorts of doubt in press briefings and impromptu hallway interviews.

Behind the scenes, Smith’s work resulted in two hefty reports. The first, dissecting Trump’s actions after the 2020 election, trickled over to Congress at the start of the year. The second, focused on classified documents, is still sheltering somewhere in the Justice Department; officials say they’re holding onto it in light of ongoing legal action—though the logic grows thinner as Trump’s political fortunes shift. With each passing week, questions pile up, as does the fog of unfinished business.

Now the countdown is on, with both parties digging in: Republicans on a mission to uncover what they suspect is political overreach, Democrats forecasting leaks and spinning. The public, for all the endless talk of transparency, finds itself mostly in the dark—reliant on snippets and selective retellings.

As December approaches, Jack Smith remains caught in the crossfire—a reluctant figurehead for an argument over truth, trust, and the corrosive power of suspicion in the nation’s capital.

It was barely noon last Tuesday when Jim Jordan decided to jolt Washington out of its autumn lull. With a brash sweep, the Ohio Republican—House Judiciary chairman and no stranger to political theatrics—summoned former special counsel Jack Smith to Capitol Hill, slapping a subpoena on his name for good measure. The deadline wasn’t just a gesture. Smith was instructed to hand over documents by December 12th and then appear for a closed-door grilling five days later.Jordan’s letter thudded onto Smith’s desk with no effort at subtlety: “Due to your service as Special Counsel, the Committee believes that you possess information that is vital to its oversight of this matter,” it read. The rhetoric wasn’t exactly coded. Oversight, in this case, meant poking into Smith’s handling of Donald Trump—whose legal entanglements had already managed to split half the country into warring camps.Smith, silent for much of the months-long spectacle, didn’t send up flares or issue a bombastic statement. Instead, his lawyer, Peter Koski, quietly confirmed Smith would play along, albeit with some reservations. Koski explained that Smith had earlier asked for the chance to testify publicly, back in the untempered days of October, but Republicans had, for reasons unexplained, closed that door. “We are disappointed that offer was rejected, and that the American people will be denied the opportunity to hear directly from Jack on these topics,” Koski said, not quite disguising his frustration. “Jack looks forward to meeting with the committee later this month.”That missed chance for the spotlight wasn’t lost on House Democrats. Jamie Raskin, the Maryland congressman who’s made a career out of parliamentary showdowns, wasted no time in accusing Jordan, and by extension his whole committee, of stonewalling. In his version, Republicans were chasing shadows and seeking ammunition for partisan talking points—preferably in private. “Chairman Jordan has denied Special Counsel Jack Smith’s offer to speak publicly to the whole Congress and the whole country about his investigations … instead demanding he comply with a subpoena for a closed-door, private session simply so Republicans can spin, distort, and cherry-pick his remarks through press leaks,” Raskin charged, trading subtlety for blunt scorn.The scuffle, in many ways, is exactly what politics in Washington has devolved into—a protracted argument not simply about facts, but about who controls their telling. Both parties claim transparency as a guiding principle, but each wants to set the terms. Smith and his team spent months in the shadow of relentless suspicion. The cases—one accusing Trump of hoarding government secrets in Florida, the other probing alleged schemes to overturn a national election—echoed through cable news cycles and congressional halls alike. Each indictment deepened divides, setting up another chapter in America’s struggle to adjudicate its own history in real time.If Smith bristled under accusations that he’d weaponized the law, he rarely let on. At a public event in London—a far cry from the D.C. echo chamber—he shot back: “The idea that politics would play a role in our cases is absolutely ludicrous.” His accusers, however, weren’t convinced. Jordan’s allies kept hammering away, casting all sorts of doubt in press briefings and impromptu hallway interviews.Behind the scenes, Smith’s work resulted in two hefty reports. The first, dissecting Trump’s actions after the 2020 election, trickled over to Congress at the start of the year. The second, focused on classified documents, is still sheltering somewhere in the Justice Department; officials say they’re holding onto it in light of ongoing legal action—though the logic grows thinner as Trump’s political fortunes shift. With each passing week, questions pile up, as does the fog of unfinished business.Now the countdown is on, with both parties digging in: Republicans on a mission to uncover what they suspect is political overreach, Democrats forecasting leaks and spinning. The public, for all the endless talk of transparency, finds itself mostly in the dark—reliant on snippets and selective retellings.As December approaches, Jack Smith remains caught in the crossfire—a reluctant figurehead for an argument over truth, trust, and the corrosive power of suspicion in the nation’s capital.