The question lingers, unanswered and increasingly urgent: why is Jocelyn Ballantine still employed by the Department of Justice?
Her involvement in the Michael Flynn prosecution was marred by admitted evidence tampering, initially dismissed as an “inadvertent mistake.” But the issues ran deeper, extending to altered documents provided to opposing counsel and crucial information redacted from FBI reports.
Ballantine’s actions didn’t stop there. She refused to sign the motion to dismiss charges against General Flynn, a clear indication of her unwavering commitment to a case riddled with irregularities.
Later, she was assigned to the high-profile Proud Boys trial, where accusations of misconduct escalated dramatically. Prosecutors, under Ballantine’s leadership, allegedly fabricated evidence, pressured defendants to perjure themselves, and even planted materials within the group’s online communications.
The goal, it appears, was to secure lengthy prison sentences – and they did, with some men facing over a decade behind bars. Families were shattered, lives irrevocably altered, all under Ballantine’s direction.
This past weekend, investigative journalist Julie Kelly revealed a disturbing new development: Ballantine has now been assigned to the case involving the January 6th pipe bomber. The question isn’t just about her continued employment, but about the cases she’s *allowed* to lead.
Kelly expressed disbelief, suggesting that new leadership at the DOJ and FBI may be unaware of Ballantine’s history. She described Ballantine as “among the worst of the worst,” a prosecutor who actively sought to destroy the lives of those she targeted.
During the Proud Boys trial, the defense team uncovered a hidden spreadsheet revealing FBI agents discussing the destruction of evidence and the surveillance of defendants communicating with their attorneys. This discovery was abruptly shut down by Judge Tim Kelly, a known associate of Ballantine.
Ballantine then argued that the communication represented classified information, successfully preventing the jury from seeing the evidence of potential government overreach. This was just one instance of a pattern of behavior designed to secure convictions at any cost.
The consequences were severe. Enrique Tarrio, for example, received a 22-year sentence – a punishment ultimately commuted, but one that represents the lengths to which Ballantine and her team were willing to go. They aimed for life sentences, seeking to inflict maximum damage.
The story took another shocking turn when former Proud Boys President Enrique Tarrio revealed that Ballantine attempted to coerce him into a false plea deal implicating President Trump in the events of January 6th, in exchange for leniency.
This blatant attempt to leverage a criminal case for political gain underscores the depth of the alleged misconduct. Instead of facing prosecution, Ballantine has been entrusted with one of the nation’s most sensitive investigations – the hunt for the January 6th pipe bomber.
The questions are stark and demand answers. Are those in charge aware of who is working within the Department of Justice? Do they understand the potential for bias and abuse of power that Ballantine represents?
The implications extend far beyond a single case. They strike at the heart of the justice system, raising serious concerns about fairness, accountability, and the pursuit of truth.
