No One Is Above the Law—Including Letitia James
Letitia James once declared that “no one is above the law.” And now, it appears, she might get to test that theory on herself.
This week, in a karmic corkscrew so tight it could pop the lid off a can of virtue-signaling pea and lentil soup, the Federal Housing Finance Agency referred New York Attorney General Letitia James to the Department of Justice for possible mortgage fraud.
Yes, that Letitia James—the one who sued Donald Trump for allegedly overvaluing buildings, counting too many bathrooms, and violating New York’s unspoken law against being a Republican with real estate holdings.
According to documents obtained by The Ingraham Angle, James allegedly claimed a Virginia property as her “principal residence” to get favorable loan terms—while simultaneously swearing up and down to New York voters that her primary residence was in the Empire State.
For those of us who’ve ever had to fill out a mortgage application with actual facts, this is known as fraud. In progressive circles, it’s called “a lived experience.”
She also reportedly listed the home as a four-unit structure instead of five, an eyebrow-raising discrepancy that could have changed her entire lending category and interest rate.
And then there’s this gem: James is also accused of claiming her father was her husband on mortgage documents. That makes for an odd mortgage application, but it does a number on the James family tree. Oedipus Hud was not the housing policy we had in mind.
Somewhere, Sigmund Freud is sighing into a pipe.
She also allegedly declared a home in Virginia her “primary residence” to secure a better interest rate—despite being the elected Attorney General of New York.
Irony has just refinanced at a historically low rate.
And Letitia James might be holding the balloon note.
Letitia James has been one of the capos in the Lawfare syndicate, before and after last year’s election—dragging the legal system through every political theater in Manhattan with the enthusiasm of a prosecutor auditioning for a MSNBC primetime show.
She’s sued over Treasury access and grant funding—she’d probably sue Trump for drinking from a plastic straw if she thought she could get it into federal court.
And yet here she is, allegedly fibbing on her loan documents and filing as part of a fake married couple with Dad—back in 1983 and again in 2000.
It’s not just a one-off; it’s a pattern. One that’s documented, dated, and damning. At least they stayed together through thick and thin.
One could ask—and it’s a fair question—would James be prosecuted for this if she weren’t Letitia James?
But isn’t that the same question many asked about her prosecution of Donald Trump?
After all, she pursued him under a novel legal theory—wielding a state anti-fraud statute designed for consumer protection (Executive Law § 63(12)) to claim “fraud” in real estate valuations despite no financial loss, no victim, and no bank complaint.
It was, in effect, fraud without the fraud.
But there’s nothing novel about mortgage fraud. Misrepresenting your primary residence, mislabeling a property’s structure, or claiming your father as your husband on legal forms—these are classic, cut-and-dried misrepresentations—the kind of thing prosecutors don’t usually need to invent new theories to charge.
After all, if misrepresenting property status with supposed intent divined by the prosecution after consulting with the office Ouija board is criminal for Trump, it’s criminal for James, too—no divination required.
Sure, people can make honest mistakes—no doubt.
But that’s not the construct James manufactured for her all-too-obvious political targeting of President Trump.
She didn’t allow for ambiguity. She didn’t grant the benefit of the doubt. She built an entire case on the premise that intent can be divined, documents can be stretched, and targets can be chosen.
She opened the floodgates. She can’t act shocked when the water flows back.
And the progressive left apologists should spare us the whole “she’s being targeted” routine. Letitia James ran for Attorney General on the platform that she would go after Trump.
Now that the tables have turned in a celestially remarkable way, this isn’t selective prosecution—it’s a case of someone tripping over the very tripwire they spent years laying for someone else.
Save your time—and your carbon emissions.
Now that she’s the one under scrutiny, the rules she rewrote are simply coming home to roost.
If the allegations are factual—and if her own prosecutorial standard is applied—Letitia James isn’t just eligible for indictment. She’s eligible for a mortgage fraud tutorial at FCI Danbury.
Sauce for the goose.
Or, as retired NYPD Inspector Paul Mauro put it, “Letitia James may have engaged in the very sort of fraud which she alleged in her ludicrous case against Donald Trump.”
James built her brand on the legal equivalent of a moral selfie. Now, the filters might’ve been doing more work than we thought.
As she famously said: “No one is above the law.”
We’ll soon find out if that includes her.
Charlton Allen is an attorney, former chief executive officer, and chief judicial officer of the North Carolina Industrial Commission. He is the founder of the Madison Center for Law & Liberty, Inc., editor of The American Salient, and the host of the Modern Federalist podcast. X: @CharltonAllenNC
CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons, cropped.
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