“TED CRUZ’S NUCLEAR ATTACK! He Just VAPORIZED Jack Smith, Calling Biden’s Scandal WORSE THAN WATERGATE!”
In a blistering Senate address that echoed with the fury of a constitutional crisis, Senator Ted Cruz drew a stark and controversial parallel: “Arctic Frost is Joe Biden’s Watergate.” With those words, Cruz set the tone for a scathing indictment of the Biden administration’s Department of Justice, and in particular, Special Counsel Jack Smith. What followed was a relentless takedown that accused the highest levels of government of weaponizing the legal system against political opponents and trampling the very foundations of American democracy.
Cruz began by painting Attorney General Merrick Garland and Special Counsel Jack Smith as fundamentally corrupt actors, architects of what he called a “political enemies list from the beginning.” The numbers he cited were staggering: 197 subpoenas targeting 430 Republican entities and individuals. For Cruz, this wasn’t just partisan hardball—it was “an absolute and egregious abuse of power.” He accused the Biden Justice Department of signing off on subpoenas for the phone records of at least nine sitting US senators, a move that amounted to a direct assault on the legislative branch.
“Twenty percent of the Republicans in the United States Senate were the target of this fishing expedition,” Cruz thundered. The implications, he argued, were chilling: the executive branch was spying on its legislative adversaries, convinced that “the ends justify the means.” In Cruz’s view, this was a flagrant violation of the Constitution, the separation of powers, the Speech and Debate Clause, and the basic rights to privacy and free speech.
The senator then offered a personal example, recounting how one of those subpoenas—issued by Jack Smith—went to AT&T, seeking Cruz’s own cell phone communications. “I actually want to commend AT&T for doing the right thing,” Cruz said, explaining that the Texas-based telecom giant consulted its legal counsel and refused to comply, citing the protections of the Speech and Debate Clause. “AT&T declined to comply, did not hand over my cell phone records,” he declared, drawing a line between corporate responsibility and governmental overreach.
But the story didn’t end there. Cruz revealed that the subpoena was accompanied by a judicial order signed by Judge James E. Boasberg, whom Cruz described as a “radical leftist judge out of control.” The order, Cruz explained, not only demanded his phone records but also forbade AT&T from informing him of the subpoena for at least a year. Quoting the order, Cruz recited the rationale: the court found “reasonable grounds to believe that such disclosure will result in destruction or tampering with evidence, intimidation of potential witnesses, and serious jeopardy to the investigation.”
Cruz scoffed at the justification. “There is precisely zero evidence to conclude that I am likely to destroy or tamper with evidence or intimidate potential witnesses,” he insisted. For Cruz, this was not just judicial overreach—it was a weaponization of the legal system, a direct attack on the constitutional protections afforded to members of Congress. He speculated that Judge Boasberg had “printed these things out like placemats at Denny’s, one after the other,” targeting not just himself but fellow senators like Lindsey Graham, Marsha Blackburn, Eric Schmitt, and Chuck Grassley.
“If a litigant makes a claim for which there is no factual basis, that litigant is subject to sanctions in federal court,” Cruz argued. “And if a judge signs an order reaching a factual conclusion for which there is zero evidence whatsoever, that judge is abusing his power.” He called on the House of Representatives to impeach Judge Boasberg, accusing him of abandoning his judicial oath in favor of a partisan vendetta.
Cruz’s outrage was not reserved for the judiciary alone. He pledged to work with Senate colleagues like Chairman Grassley and Chairman Johnson to uncover every official who had “signed off on this abuse of power.” He promised accountability for what he described as “zealots who wanted to corrupt the Department of Justice and corrupt the judiciary in order to try to attack their enemies list.”
As Cruz concluded, his message was clear: these actions were not just unconstitutional—they were immoral and wrong. In invoking Watergate, Cruz was not merely reaching for a historical analogy; he was issuing a dire warning that the very fabric of American democracy was at stake. For Cruz and his supporters, “Arctic Frost” was not just a scandal—it was a defining moment, a test of whether the rule of law would prevail over partisan ambition.
Cruz’s speech reverberated far beyond the Senate chamber, igniting debate across the political spectrum. Supporters hailed his defense of constitutional principles and his willingness to call out what they saw as government overreach. Critics accused him of grandstanding and inflaming partisan divisions. Yet, regardless of one’s perspective, the controversy surrounding “Arctic Frost” and the Biden administration’s investigative tactics had become a flashpoint in the ongoing struggle over the limits of executive power, congressional independence, and the integrity of the American justice system.
In the end, Cruz’s evisceration of Jack Smith and the Biden DOJ was more than a political broadside—it was a demand for answers, accountability, and the preservation of the checks and balances that define the United States. Whether “Arctic Frost” will ultimately be remembered as Biden’s Watergate remains to be seen, but for now, the battle lines are drawn, and the fight for constitutional order rages on.
