The Unlikely Alliance That Forced Trump's Hand on Epstein Files

3 million documents released. A president "seething" with anger. An administration official describing Trump as trying to make the whole thing "go away." The successful campaign to force the release of the Epstein files wasn't just a political victory—it was an extraordinary example of what happens when unlikely allies refuse to back down.

But the most remarkable part? It was orchestrated by two lawmakers who couldn't be more different: a progressive from Silicon Valley and a conservative from Kentucky.

The Dinner Question That Started Everything

Last April, at a formal Justice Department dinner, Representative Thomas Massie of Kentucky asked Attorney General Pam Bondi a seemingly simple question: "When do you think we might get 'Phase 2' of the Epstein files?" Her response was definitive—all that remained was material she considered "child pornography," and there was nothing more to release.

But something didn't sit right with Massie. "I suspected there was stuff that needed to come out," he told me.

Meanwhile, in California Representative Ro Khanna's office, a young communications staffer named Sarah Drory was having her own moment of doubt. During a morning strategy meeting in July, she tentatively suggested: "What about a bill to release the Epstein files?" The room fell silent. Senior colleagues exchanged dismissive looks. One declared Epstein "a social-media thing."

Three days later, Khanna introduced an amendment requiring the Justice Department to release the files. When a Republican congressman voted for it, Massie called Khanna. They talked late into the night about a long-shot idea: Could they convince other Republicans to do the same?

The White House Fights Back

What followed was what Massie called a "360-pressure campaign"—an unprecedented effort by the White House to kill the legislation. The tactics were sophisticated and personal. Key staff members working for Massie suddenly received job offers that would double their salaries. When one young employee got such an offer, Massie asked him directly: "Did it ever occur to you that they might be offering you this job to basically make me less effective?" The staffer sheepishly replied: "That's what my mom said."

The pressure on Republican women in Congress was even more intense. Representatives Marjorie Taylor Greene, Nancy Mace, and Lauren Boebert found themselves in the crosshairs. In November, Boebert was summoned to the White House Situation Room—an unusual setting that raised questions about what exactly the administration thought was in those files.

Trump himself was reportedly furious, telling allies that "his friends would get hurt" with the wide release of records. One administration official described the president as "seething," desperately wanting his aides to make the whole thing "go away."

An Unexpected Coalition

Despite the pressure, something remarkable happened. On a sunny September morning, two news conferences took place on Capitol grounds. One was organized by Massie and Khanna; the other by Epstein survivors and anti-trafficking advocates. Thousands attended both events, many bringing friendship bracelets and flowers for the victims.

What struck observers was the diversity of the crowd—including many elderly people, some in wheelchairs. One elderly woman from West Virginia, with tears in her eyes, told me: "Frankly, we were young. You didn't talk about it." The Epstein case had compelled many to reflect on their own buried experiences of abuse.

Greene, initially skeptical, became one of the bill's strongest advocates after meeting with survivors. "I never in my life thought I would hug Marjorie Taylor Greene," one Epstein victim told me. "But she was genuine, and she followed the facts."

The Vote That Changed Everything

On November 18, the House voted. Just one member opposed releasing the files. The Senate followed with unanimous approval. Trump, despite his opposition, signed the bill into law. The Justice Department began releasing what would eventually total more than 3 million documents.

The immediate impact was global. In Britain, Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor and former U.S. Ambassador Peter Mandelson were arrested. In Norway, former Prime Minister Thorbjørn Jagland was charged with "gross corruption." More than a dozen prominent figures stepped down from positions or lost honorary titles.

What the Files Revealed—and Concealed

Trump's name appears tens of thousands of times across the files, though many mentions are in media reports Epstein circulated. The high number surprised White House staff who were unprepared for the release. "That freaked out people," one administration official said. "Nobody really knew what was coming."

At least six Cabinet members or senior administration officials had contact with Epstein, with closer relationships than previously known. All deny wrongdoing, and law enforcement hasn't made allegations against them or the president.

But questions remain. Nine people familiar with information submitted to the FBI told me they were alarmed that many documents—including those referencing Trump—weren't made public. This week, journalists identified documents related to allegations involving Trump and a minor that weren't released, or were released then deleted from the DOJ website.

The Democratic Dilemma

Democrats faced their own crisis. How do you separate the party from elder statesmen revealed to have been close to Epstein? Bill Clinton traveled multiple times on Epstein's plane in the early 2000s. Ghislaine Maxwell told the Justice Department that "President Clinton was my friend" and helped create the Clinton Global Initiative.

Yesterday, Hillary Clinton testified under oath for six hours, saying she had "no idea" about Epstein and Maxwell's criminal activities and doesn't remember encountering Epstein. But younger Democrats, unlike party leadership, have been unwilling to look away from these connections.

Khanna likened his position to a Hindu text where a prince must choose to kill a family member to uphold justice. "All the Epstein files should come out," he said, "and if those files implicate Bill Clinton, so be it."

The Personal Cost of Truth-Telling

Both Massie and Khanna have paid dearly for their efforts. Major donors have cut ties, losses not made up despite small-dollar donations. Massie faces a difficult Republican primary against a Trump-backed challenger. And then there are the security threats.

Nearly everyone I spoke with for this story fears for their safety after publicly pushing for file release. Massie matter-of-factly mused about the risk: "I've pissed off enough billionaires who are clearly amoral people that I might have shortened my expected lifespan."

The effort also claimed a tragic victim. Virginia Roberts Giuffre, one of Epstein's most vocal survivors and an early organizer of file release efforts, died by suicide last spring. Her family believes the toll of her abuse, combined with harassment from her public advocacy, became "so heavy that it became unbearable."

The Silence That Speaks Volumes

When Attorney General Bondi testified to Congress earlier this month, she urged anyone who had been hurt or abused to contact the FBI. Sitting behind her were witnesses to Epstein's crimes, some carrying photos of themselves as teenagers when first abused.

When a lawmaker asked these victims to raise their hands if they had reached out to the Justice Department to offer testimony, every hand shot up. He then asked how many had been ignored or denied. Again, every single hand went up. "Ms. Bondi, it looks like you have some more witnesses to talk to," he said.

The attorney general never turned around.