The chief federal prosecutor in Washington, D.C., said this week she is seeking to interview women who allege Rep. Eric Swalwell assaulted them in the nation's capital, and signaled she may move to pierce the confidential settlement agreements that Congress used to keep those allegations quiet.
U.S. Attorney Jeanine Pirro made the disclosure on the John Solomon Reports podcast, as reported by Just the News. When asked whether she was willing to pierce those settlements to reexamine material evidence, Pirro answered plainly: "You're darn right."
The move marks a significant escalation. If federal prosecutors successfully open sealed settlement agreements, accusers bound by nondisclosure agreements could testify before a grand jury. The underlying facts of those settlements, how much was paid, by whom, and to resolve what, could become evidence in a federal probe.
Swalwell, a California Democrat who served seven terms in Congress beginning in 2013, resigned this week. He also withdrew from what had been a leading campaign for California governor. He has strongly denied the allegations, calling them false. But his departure came as lawmakers from both parties called for his expulsion, and the House Ethics Committee opened its own investigation.
At least four women had come forward with allegations involving incidents in California and New York, with some dating back to 2018. Among the claims: a former staffer alleged Swalwell raped her on two occasions when she was too intoxicated to consent. The New York Post reported that a fifth woman has now come forward, and that Swalwell faces multiple prosecutorial investigations, including in Los Angeles and Manhattan.
The Manhattan District Attorney has separately opened a criminal probe into the congressman over a sexual assault allegation, one thread in what has become a multi-jurisdictional legal reckoning.
Pirro did not stop at interviews. She announced a public tip line for anyone with information about alleged sexual or inappropriate conduct by Swalwell in Washington, D.C. The Washington Examiner reported that Pirro explained her reasoning directly:
"What I think is really important right now is for anyone who has any relevant information or has any complaint as it relates to the kinds of complaints we're hearing about with Eric Swalwell needs to come forward to my office."
Pirro said she expects there may be victims in the district because of the seriousness of the allegations and the fact that Swalwell lived in D.C. Rep. Lauren Boebert publicly encouraged additional accusers to come forward, telling potential victims: "We'll be here for you, to protect you."
The prospect of piercing congressional settlement agreements touches a nerve that runs far deeper than any single member's conduct. For decades, Congress operated a system that allowed offices to resolve staff complaints, including allegations of misconduct and discrimination, with taxpayer-funded payouts and strict confidentiality.
A Real Clear Policy article introduced into the congressional record in 2024 estimated that the Office of Congressional Workplace Rights paid out $18.2 million to settle 291 cases of misconduct or discrimination between 1997 and 2021. That figure covers a wide range of complaints, but the sheer scale, nearly three hundred settlements over roughly two decades, illustrates how routine the process became.
The system was designed, in theory, to protect victims. In practice, it also shielded the accused. Nondisclosure agreements kept the details out of public view. Taxpayers funded the payouts. And members of Congress continued serving without voters ever learning what had been alleged against them.
Earlier this year, Rep. Nancy Mace, a South Carolina Republican, introduced a bill to publicly disclose the settlements. Congress overwhelmingly tabled it in a bipartisan vote. That fact alone deserves attention. When given a chance to pull back the curtain on its own settlement apparatus, both parties chose to keep it shut.
Former Speaker Nancy Pelosi, who led House Democrats for four of Swalwell's seven terms, said on Tuesday she had no knowledge of the allegations. She expressed relief that Swalwell resigned rather than force a floor vote on expulsion, calling it "the right thing to do... to not subject members to have to take a vote on something like that."
That framing is worth pausing over. Pelosi cast Swalwell's resignation as a favor to colleagues, sparing them a difficult vote, rather than addressing the substance of the allegations or the question of whether leadership should have known sooner.
An East Bay journalist has said that Swalwell's conduct toward women was an open secret in Alameda County, raising uncomfortable questions about what party leaders knew and when. If the behavior was widely discussed in his home district, the claim that it never reached senior leadership in Washington strains belief.
The legal mechanics matter here. Federal prosecutors have tools that congressional ethics panels do not. If Pirro's office moves to pierce settlement agreements tied to Swalwell, it could compel testimony from accusers who were previously silenced by NDAs. It could also expose the financial terms, revealing whether taxpayer funds were used to buy silence about serious criminal allegations.
That is a different order of accountability than anything Congress has shown itself willing to impose on its own members.
Several open questions remain. It is not yet clear which specific incidents in Washington Pirro's office is focused on. It is not clear whether any settlement agreements involving Swalwell actually exist, or whether any accusers have agreed to be interviewed. No grand jury has been publicly empaneled.
As another woman came forward with misconduct allegations around the time of Swalwell's resignation, the scope of the case continues to expand. And with investigations now active in at least three jurisdictions, Washington, Los Angeles, and Manhattan, the legal walls are closing in from multiple directions.
Swalwell maintains his innocence. He is entitled to the presumption of innocence in any criminal proceeding. But the women who allege they were harmed are entitled to something too: a system that does not use taxpayer money and legal gag orders to bury their claims.
The bipartisan vote to table the Mace disclosure bill tells the real story. Congress had a chance to open its own books. It refused. Members on both sides of the aisle chose institutional self-protection over transparency.
Now a federal prosecutor is doing what Congress would not. Pirro's willingness to pursue settlement records, interview accusers, and open a tip line represents the kind of external pressure that the institution has spent decades insulating itself against.
The $18.2 million in settlements paid out over two decades is not just a budget line. It is a ledger of complaints that were resolved in the dark, complaints that voters, taxpayers, and in some cases law enforcement never got to evaluate. If even a fraction of those settlements concealed conduct that rose to the level of criminal behavior, the public has been cheated twice: once by the alleged misconduct, and again by the system that hid it.
When the people's representatives build a system to settle misconduct claims in secret and then vote to keep it that way, it falls to prosecutors to do what elected officials will not. That is not a sign of a healthy institution. It is a sign of one that has lost the right to police itself.
