After defying congressional subpoenas for half a year, former President Bill Clinton and Hillary Clinton have suddenly discovered a passion for transparency — but only on their terms.
The House Oversight Committee subpoenaed both Clintons last August on a bipartisan vote to testify about the Epstein files. They were given a date in October. They skipped it. They were given a date before Christmas. They missed that, too, citing a funeral. They were given a date in January. They ignored it again.
Only after Chairman James Comer threatened contempt — and the committee followed through with a bipartisan contempt vote — did the Clintons finally agree to closed-door depositions scheduled for the end of this month. Then, in a move that surprised exactly no one who has watched the Clintons operate for three decades, both pivoted to demanding the whole thing be done in public instead.
Hillary Clinton took to X to address Comer directly:
If you want this fight let's have it in public.
Bill Clinton followed suit, declaring he wouldn't be used:
as a prop in a closed door Kangaroo Court.
A spokeswoman for Comer accused the former first couple of "moving the goalposts." That's putting it charitably. The Clintons burned through every deadline the committee set, exhausted every delay tactic available, stared down a criminal referral to the Justice Department — and then, at the last possible moment, recast themselves as champions of openness.
The pattern is familiar. Resist. Delay. Then, when the walls close in, change the subject by making a bigger demand and hope everyone forgets you spent months stonewalling.
Comer explained the logic behind depositions after Ghislaine Maxwell's own closed-door appearance before the committee on February 9:
Depositions have historically been much more substantive than hearings. Hearings unfortunately, have become more of an entertainment thing.
He's right, and the Clintons know it. Open hearings are five-minute rounds of grandstanding where members of Congress compete for cable news clips. Depositions are hours-long, methodical, and difficult to navigate. A deposition is where you actually have to answer the question. A hearing is where you run out the clock with practiced indignation and pivot to talking points.
The Clintons didn't suddenly embrace transparency. They chose the format most favorable to them — the one with cameras, time limits, and partisan crosstalk to hide behind. According to Fox News, Comer has reportedly always been open to a public hearing, but only after a substantive closed-door deposition. That sequencing matters. You get the facts first, then you put them on display.
What makes this more interesting is the fracture within the Democratic Party itself. Rep. Ro Khanna of California — one of the architects of the law compelling the release of the Epstein files — applauded the Clintons' demand for a public hearing:
As long as [the hearing is] focused on Epstein, and it's not a wild goose chase — it's not trying to score political points or embarrass either President Clinton or President Trump, it is asking legitimate questions about what they knew took place and who they knew were participating in heinous acts. That should be a legitimate point of inquiry.
Khanna called the former president "an important witness." Meanwhile, former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi was reportedly steamed at Democrats who wanted the Clintons to appear at all. The generational divide is real. Younger congressional Democrats don't carry water for the Clintons the way the old guard does — and the Epstein files have made loyalty to that brand politically toxic.
Rep. Suhas Subramanyam of Virginia made the Democratic strategy even more explicit:
Certainly it does set the precedent. President Trump was subpoenaed during the January 6th investigations and didn't come in. He cited some form of executive privilege. And so we're kind of forcing the Clintons to come in with the threat of criminal contempt. Then that is a precedent that we are setting.
There it is. For a faction of Democrats, the Clinton depositions aren't really about the Clintons at all — they're a mechanism to build a case for compelling President Trump to testify about Epstein. The Clintons become the precedent, and the precedent becomes the weapon.
Subramanyam's argument has a certain procedural logic to it, but it rests on a false equivalence. Trump's subpoena during the January 6th investigation involved claims of executive privilege — a legal doctrine with deep constitutional roots, whatever one thinks of its application in that case. The Clintons hold no office. Bill Clinton left the Oval Office more than a quarter-century ago. Hillary Clinton hasn't been a senator since 2009 and last served as secretary of state in early 2013. They have no privilege to invoke. They simply refused to show up.
The committee also subpoenaed a host of other prominent figures, including former Attorney General Bill Barr. The Clintons weren't singled out — they singled themselves out by being the ones who wouldn't comply.
The DOJ's release of Epstein files on December 19 included photographs of Bill Clinton with Jeffrey Epstein. The committee's investigation exists because a bipartisan majority decided those connections warranted scrutiny — not partisan theater, not a fishing expedition, but scrutiny grounded in a law that Congress itself passed to compel disclosure.
The Clintons' shifting posture — from defiance to conditional cooperation to demands for public spectacle — does not project innocence. It projects management. Every move has been calibrated not to answer questions but to control the conditions under which questions get asked.
The depositions are scheduled for the end of February. Whether the Clintons actually sit for them — or manufacture another reason to delay — remains to be seen. The House Rules Committee was preparing a measure last week to force a full House vote on contempt and send criminal referrals to the Justice Department. That threat is what finally moved the needle.
If the Clintons comply with the depositions, a public hearing may follow. Some Republicans reportedly support that outcome. The question is whether the committee gets substance before spectacle — or whether the Clintons succeed in turning the entire process into a televised performance where nothing of consequence gets said.
Six months of defiance. A bipartisan contempt vote. Criminal referrals on the table. And only now do Bill and Hillary Clinton want the American people to watch.
The cameras aren't the part they're afraid of. The questions are.