James Comey Surrenders on Charge of Threatening Trump's Life in Instagram Post

On the morning of April 29, 2026, James Comey — former director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the man who once oversaw 35,000 employees and some of the nation's most sensitive national security investigations — walked into the federal courthouse in the Eastern District of Virginia and surrendered to authorities [1]. The hearing lasted less than ten minutes [3]. The charges against him: two federal felonies carrying a combined maximum sentence of twenty years in prison, stemming from a photograph of seashells on a beach [2].

The case against Comey centers on a single Instagram post from May 15, 2025, in which he shared a photo of shells arranged on a North Carolina beach to spell the numbers "86 47," accompanied by the caption, "Cool shell formation on my beach walk" [4]. Prosecutors allege that "86" — restaurant slang for removing an item from service — combined with "47," a reference to Trump as the 47th president, constituted a serious expression of intent to harm the president [5]. Comey deleted the post the same day and wrote a follow-up stating he "didn't realize some folks associate those numbers with violence" [6].

The indictment, returned by a grand jury in the Eastern District of North Carolina on April 28, charges Comey under two statutes: making a threat to take the life of or inflict bodily harm upon the president, and transmitting in interstate commerce a communication containing a threat to kill the president. Each count carries a maximum prison term of ten years [7].

The Legal Framework: What Constitutes a "True Threat"

The prosecution rests on 18 U.S.C. § 871, which makes it a federal felony to "knowingly and willfully" make any threat to "take the life of, kidnap, or inflict bodily harm upon" the president [8]. The statute has existed since 1917, originally enacted to address threats against President Woodrow Wilson during World War I [9].

But the constitutional question is more complex than the statutory text. The Supreme Court's 2023 decision in Counterman v. Colorado reshaped the legal landscape for threat prosecutions. In a 7-2 ruling authored by Justice Elena Kagan, the Court held that the First Amendment requires the government to prove that a defendant acted with at least recklessness — meaning the speaker "consciously disregarded a substantial risk that his communications would be viewed as threatening violence" [10]. A purely objective "reasonable person" test, the Court found, does not pass constitutional muster [11].

This standard creates a significant obstacle for prosecutors in the Comey case. The government must prove not merely that a reasonable person could interpret the seashell photo as threatening, but that Comey himself was at least aware of and recklessly disregarded the risk that his post would be perceived as a genuine threat of violence [10].

Acting Attorney General Todd Blanche addressed the burden at a press conference announcing the indictment. "You are not allowed to threaten the president of the United States of America," Blanche said, adding that the DOJ would prove intent "with witnesses, with documents, with the defendant himself, to the extent it's appropriate" [12]. He declined to present evidence publicly.

Two Indictments in Eight Months

The seashell prosecution is the second time the Trump administration has attempted to bring criminal charges against Comey. In September 2025, prosecutors in the Eastern District of Virginia indicted Comey on charges of making false statements to Congress, alleging he had lied to the Senate Judiciary Committee in 2020 about authorizing an FBI subordinate to serve as an anonymous source for news reports related to the Hillary Clinton email investigation [13].

That first indictment arrived less than a week before the statute of limitations expired [13]. It was dismissed in November 2025 after a federal judge found that interim U.S. Attorney Lindsey Halligan, who obtained the indictment, had not been validly appointed by President Trump [14].

The rapid succession of prosecutions forms a central pillar of Comey's defense. His attorney, Patrick Fitzgerald — the former U.S. Attorney who prosecuted the Scooter Libby case — announced at the April 29 court appearance that the defense intends to file a motion to dismiss on grounds of vindictive and selective prosecution [15]. Fitzgerald asked the magistrate judge to order the government to preserve all communications that might be relevant to that motion [15].

The Vindictive Prosecution Question

The vindictive prosecution doctrine, rooted in due process, forbids the government from bringing charges to punish a defendant for exercising legal rights. It sets a high bar: defendants must demonstrate that the prosecution would not have been brought absent an improper motive [16].

Comey's legal team argues the record of improper motive is unusually well documented. Trump has publicly and repeatedly called for Comey's prosecution. In a Truth Social post directed at Attorney General Pam Bondi, Trump complained that "Nothing is being done" regarding Comey, former Representative Adam Schiff, and others, writing that they "impeached me twice, and indicted me (5 times!)" [16].

Legal scholars see this as giving Comey a stronger-than-usual vindictive prosecution claim. Carissa Byrne Hessick, a law professor, noted the procedural catch-22 that defendants typically need evidence to obtain discovery — "you have to have the evidence before you can ask for the evidence." But in Comey's case, she observed, Trump's public statements may provide sufficient basis to clear that initial hurdle: Comey has "a very strong case for discovery" [16].

The defense team could also cite the broader pattern of Trump administration prosecutions targeting political opponents. NPR has documented more than 100 instances of Trump threatening to prosecute or punish perceived enemies [17].

Constitutional Crossfire: What Legal Experts Say

The indictment has drawn reactions from across the legal spectrum, and the emerging consensus among constitutional scholars — including several prominent Trump supporters — is that the prosecution faces formidable First Amendment obstacles.

Eugene Volokh, a First Amendment scholar and senior fellow at Stanford's Hoover Institution, was blunt: "This is clearly not a punishable threat" [18]. Jonathan Turley, a George Washington University law professor and frequent Trump defender, wrote that "despite being one of Comey's longest critics, the indictment raises troubling free speech issues" and predicted it is "unlikely to withstand constitutional scrutiny" [19]. Turley emphasized that the visual nature of the alleged threat — seashells forming numbers — is "inherently ambiguous expression deserving First Amendment protection" [19].

Mary Anne Franks, also at George Washington University, noted that prosecutors must show "clear meaning" to the statement, and characterized Comey's social media post as "a very ambiguous statement at best" [18].

The Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE) called the prosecution "transparent and unconstitutional," describing the idea of seashells constituting a serious threat as "ridiculous" [16].

The strongest argument in the government's favor comes from those who emphasize the post-assassination-attempt security environment. Mike Davis, founder of the Article III Project, contended that "no one has a First Amendment right" to threaten a sitting president, arguing that prosecutions are necessary given the two assassination attempts against Trump in 2024 [19]. Prosecutors also cite the "reasonable recipient" standard, arguing that "a reasonable recipient who is familiar with the circumstances would interpret" the message "as a serious expression of an intent to do harm to the President" [5].

When pressed by reporters about whether the DOJ would now prosecute every instance of someone posting "86 47," Blanche offered only that "every case is different" [20].

Unequal Treatment? Comparing the Comey Case to Other Threat Investigations

The Comey prosecution invites comparison to how other public figures have been treated after making arguably more explicit references to violence against the president.

Source: DOJ records, news reports

Data as of Apr 30, 2026CSV

In 2017, comedian Kathy Griffin posed for a photograph holding a realistic-looking severed head made to resemble Trump, covered in fake blood. The Secret Service opened a two-month investigation, and Griffin reported being placed on the no-fly list and the Interpol watch list [21]. She was not charged with any crime.

That same year, rapper Snoop Dogg released a music video titled "Lavender" depicting himself shooting a clown-faced Trump stand-in with a toy gun. The Secret Service acknowledged it was "aware" of the video [22]. No charges were filed.

By contrast, ordinary citizens have faced prosecution for less ambiguous posts. In 2024, David Michael Hanson of Phoenix was charged after posting on social media: "#joeAndKamala I'm asking you to resign on Monday your alternative is death brutally murdered" [23]. Trent Schneider, 57, of Illinois was charged in 2025 after posting a video in which he said he would "get guns and take care of business" and that Trump "should be executed" [24].

The disparity cuts both ways. Critics of the prosecution argue that Comey's post is far less explicit than any of these examples — a photograph of seashells with no text expressing violence — and that charging him represents selective prosecution of a political enemy. Supporters argue that Comey's status as a former FBI director gives his words added weight and context that an ordinary citizen's post would lack.

Notably, Trump allies have used the same "86 47" phrasing without consequence. Former Representative Matt Gaetz and influencer Jack Posobiec have both deployed the term in political contexts, as have numerous anonymous social media accounts [16]. None have been prosecuted.

The Defense Arsenal vs. The Average Defendant

Comey enters this fight with resources that most defendants charged under § 871 cannot dream of. His lead attorney, Patrick Fitzgerald, is one of the most experienced federal prosecutors-turned-defense lawyers in the country. His team also includes Michael Dreeben, a former deputy solicitor general who argued more than 100 cases before the Supreme Court [15].

Most defendants charged with threatening the president are represented by public defenders or court-appointed counsel. The typical § 871 case involves an individual who made intemperate online statements, often while intoxicated or in a state of emotional distress, and who lacks the financial resources for a sustained legal fight [9].

Comey, by contrast, has the support of a well-funded legal defense, access to former senior government officials who can serve as character witnesses, and a public platform to shape the narrative around his case. He has already used that platform effectively: within hours of the indictment, Comey posted a video statement declaring, "This won't be the end of it — but I'm still innocent, I'm still not afraid and I still believe in the independent federal judiciary" [1].

The asymmetry highlights a tension that both civil libertarians and Trump supporters have identified, though from opposite directions. Civil libertarians argue that if even a wealthy, well-connected former official can be prosecuted for ambiguous political speech, ordinary citizens have no chance of protecting their First Amendment rights against a motivated government. Trump allies counter that the legal establishment rallying to Comey's defense proves that Washington insiders face a fundamentally different — and more forgiving — justice system than ordinary Americans.

Chilling Effects: What a Conviction or Acquittal Would Mean

The case carries implications well beyond Comey's personal fate. Legal scholars on both sides of the political aisle have flagged the potential chilling effects on political speech, law enforcement culture, and the relationship between former government officials and the administrations that succeed them.

If Comey is convicted for posting a photograph of seashells, the precedent would dramatically expand the scope of what constitutes a prosecutable threat under § 871. FIRE has argued that such an outcome would "chill a huge amount of political speech" by establishing that ambiguous, symbolic expression can be treated as a true threat [16]. Former government officials — and current ones considering future whistleblower disclosures — would have reason to think twice before posting anything that could be construed as critical of a sitting president.

Acquittal or dismissal, on the other hand, would establish that the government cannot prosecute vague symbolic expression absent clear evidence of threatening intent. It would also validate the vindictive prosecution defense in a case where the chief executive publicly called for criminal charges against a personal rival — setting a constraint on future administrations' ability to direct the Justice Department against political opponents.

The trial, if it proceeds, is expected to be held in the Eastern District of North Carolina. Comey was released on his own recognizance following his initial court appearance [3].

The Longer Arc

The Comey prosecution does not exist in isolation. It arrives in a political environment where the Trump administration has pursued criminal cases against multiple perceived adversaries, where the norms governing DOJ independence from White House political direction have been tested repeatedly, and where the courts have been asked to adjudicate the boundary between legitimate law enforcement and political retribution.

Comey's history with Trump stretches back nearly a decade. Trump fired Comey as FBI director in May 2017, an act that triggered the appointment of Special Counsel Robert Mueller. Comey testified before Congress about Trump's private requests for loyalty and for dropping the investigation into former National Security Advisor Michael Flynn. The enmity has been public, sustained, and well-documented on both sides [13].

Whether the seashell case represents a legitimate application of a century-old statute to a genuine threat or the use of the criminal justice system to settle a political grudge will ultimately be decided by a jury — if the case survives what promises to be an aggressive pretrial challenge on constitutional and due process grounds.

What is already clear is that the prosecution has forced a reckoning with questions that the American legal system has long preferred to address in the abstract: When does political speech become a criminal act? Who gets prosecuted, and who gets a pass? And what happens to democratic norms when the most powerful person in the country is both the alleged victim and the person who appointed the prosecutors?

Comey's own words, delivered hours after his indictment, framed the stakes as he sees them: "Let's go" [25].