OPINION: When symbolism is prosecuted and power is protected

Published 1:30 am Thursday, May 7, 2026

8647 was never a threat. It was a spectacle, a political exorcism in which the Justice Department fixates on a former FBI director’s beach photo while ignoring deeper problems of perjury, secrecy, and retaliation within its own ranks.

Trump’s second indictment of former FBI Director James Comey, built around a seashell arrangement spelling “8647,” is not a serious national security case. It is a test of how far the Department of Justice can stretch the law to punish a political adversary while claiming fidelity to it. The government’s theory hinges on interpretation: “86” as slang for removal, “47” as a reference to Trump. From that slender thread, prosecutors spin two federal felony counts for alleged threats against the president.

That foundation is thin, unstable, and constitutionally suspect. In other cases, individuals have been charged for explicit threats to kill Trump, burn Mar-a-Lago, or carry out violent attacks. Those cases involved direct, unambiguous language. Comey’s post requires an inferential leap from a coded number to a murderous intent the indictment never establishes. Legal analysts have noted the steep First Amendment barriers such a case faces if it rests primarily on symbolism.

The deeper issue is not the image but the disparity in enforcement. Comey faces prosecution over an ambiguous post, while far more serious allegations involving Trump allies remain unresolved.

Pam Bondi, recently removed as attorney general, left office under scrutiny for defying a congressional subpoena and for her handling of the Epstein files. False statements under oath are federal crimes, yet no comparable urgency surrounds her case. Todd Blanche, her former deputy attorney general and now acting attorney general, assumes control of the same department pursuing Comey. His prior involvement in an earlier Comey indictment, which collapsed after a court ruled the lead prosecutor was unlawfully appointed, raises further concerns. That ruling was not procedural trivia; it was a direct rebuke of how prosecutorial power was exercised.

Blanche now oversees a renewed effort against Comey. The continuity is striking. A failed prosecution built on questionable authority is replaced by one built on questionable intent. The appearance is not impartial justice, but persistence toward a predetermined outcome, a foregone conclusion, a fixed destination.

At the FBI, Director Kash Patel faces allegations of misleading Congress about his conduct in office, according to legal analysts and Democratic senators. These concerns go to the core of legal accountability, yet Patel remains in position while scrutiny lingers.

Similarly, former Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem has been accused of misrepresenting to Congress the scope and timing of policy decisions affecting vulnerable migrant populations. Federal courts have already ruled aspects of those decisions unlawful, with tangible consequences far beyond the symbolic realm of a social media post.

Against that backdrop, elevating a seashell photo to a federal case becomes difficult to reconcile. The contrast is structural. One set of actions involving sworn testimony proceeds slowly, cautiously, almost reluctantly. Another involving an ambiguous image moves swiftly, decisively, aggressively toward indictment.

This is not equal justice under law.

This disparity creates a hierarchy of enforcement: symbolic acts by perceived opponents trigger prosecution, substantive allegations involving allies invite delay, deflection, or silence. The result is erosion of credibility, corrosion of trust, and normalization of selective accountability.

Public reaction reinforces the divide. The same voices that once condemned “weaponized” justice now defend its use when directed at adversaries. Standards shift with the target. What is labeled persecution in one instance becomes law and order in another. This pattern does not clarify principles; it reveals their absence.

The legal trajectory remains uncertain. The prior indictment’s collapse signals judicial resistance to flawed prosecutions. Courts may narrow the case, dismiss weak counts, or require clearer evidence of intent. The First Amendment implications alone present a formidable barrier.

Yet the broader consequences extend beyond the courtroom. The message is unmistakable: political expression can be recast as criminal conduct when it aligns with the wrong side of power, when ambiguity becomes liability, when interpretation becomes evidence.

That shift carries implications for officials, critics, and citizens alike. It suggests enforcement is influenced by proximity to authority, undermining confidence in institutional neutrality.

8647 is not a credible threat.

It is a signal. It reflects a system willing to elevate symbolism into prosecution while leaving more substantive concerns unresolved. When that imbalance becomes visible, the question is no longer about a number on a beach. It is about the standards governing justice itself.

Van Abbott is a retired municipal finance and telecommunications official from Ketchikan, Alaska.