In the hyper-partisan theater of modern American politics, few figures have commanded the spotlight with as much singular focus as Congressman Adam Schiff. For years, his name became synonymous with the swirling, all-consuming narrative of Russian collusion. From every available news desk and camera lens, he became the face of the investigation, the chief prosecutor in the court of public opinion, assuring the nation that the evidence of a grand conspiracy was hiding in plain sight. But as the dust has settled, a different narrative has emerged, one painted not by Schiff, but by his fiercest critics, who argue that his relentless crusade was not a heroic pursuit of justice, but a “political circus” that inflicted deep and lasting damage on the country’s trust in its institutions.

Now, in the wake of being removed from the powerful House Intelligence Committee and receiving a historic censure from Congress, Schiff is asking for a promotion. His campaign for the U.S. Senate in California has forced a national reckoning with his legacy, a legacy that figures like Bill Maher and Greg Gutfeld contend is built on a “massive fallacy.”

The criticism is not merely partisan sniping; it is a fundamental indictment of Schiff’s political identity. Bill Maher, a liberal commentator known for his equal-opportunity critiques, has been particularly scathing. He argues that Schiff meticulously built his brand on “paranoia and panic,” dedicating his entire public persona to the “Russian situation.” The result, Maher points out, is that while the country knows everything about Schiff’s views on collusion, they know almost nothing about his stance on substantive issues like healthcare. He became a one-trick pony in a political landscape desperate for multifaceted leaders.

Greg Gutfeld echoes this sentiment, framing Schiff’s actions in even starker terms. He accuses the congressman of “obsessing over impeachment” at the very moment the COVID-19 pandemic was beginning its silent, deadly creep across the globe. While the nation faced a once-in-a-generation crisis, Gutfeld argues, Schiff was fueling “endless investigations that went nowhere,” driven by a desire to “settle a personal score.” The consequence, he claims, was “years of deliberate deception” that “shredded trust in government” and left the American people more divided than ever. For his actions, Gutfeld believes Schiff “owes the American people a real apology.”

The official condemnation came from the highest levels of government. Then-Speaker of the House Kevin McCarthy took the extraordinary step of removing Schiff from the House Intelligence Committee, the very platform that had given him his national prominence. McCarthy’s justification was blunt: Schiff had “twisted national security into a political circus.” Schiff, for his part, took to TikTok to frame his removal as a punishment for simply “doing my job” and “holding Trump accountable.”

But the ultimate rebuke came in the form of a censure by the full House of Representatives. In a vote that largely fell along party lines, Schiff became only the 26th member in the nation’s history to receive this formal reprimand for his role in promoting the “Trump Russia collusion hoax.” It was a stunning and historic condemnation, a permanent stain on his congressional record.

Despite this, Schiff remains undeterred, aiming to take his political act to what his critics call “a bigger stage.” His Senate run in California has become a flashpoint, a test of whether a political brand forged in the fires of the Russia investigation can succeed in a state known for its progressive politics. Yet, even here, there are signs of trouble. Maher has suggested that Schiff’s progressive views, particularly his “politically correct tap dance” on contentious social issues, might prove to be “too progressive even for California.”

The controversy extends beyond Schiff himself, touching on the broader actions of the executive branch. The revelation of a preemptive pardon for Schiff, signed by President Joe Biden, has added another layer of intrigue and outrage. Critics question the constitutionality and propriety of such a move, seeing it as an attempt to shield a political ally from accountability.

At its core, the saga of Adam Schiff is a story about the intersection of ambition, ideology, and media in the 21st century. It’s a cautionary tale about how a single-minded focus on a divisive narrative can elevate a politician to national fame while simultaneously eroding the public’s faith in the very systems they are sworn to protect. As he asks the voters of California to send him to the Senate, they are faced with a fundamental question: Is Adam Schiff a principled public servant who was unfairly persecuted for holding power accountable, or is he a political opportunist who knowingly misled the nation for personal and partisan gain? The answer will not only determine the next chapter of his career but will also send a powerful message about what kind of politics America is willing to reward.