If you stripped away the job titles, the nameplates on their desks, and their ranks in Donald Trump’s administration, you would be hard-pressed to tell Karoline Leavitt and Pam Bondi apart. Did someone say doppelgängers?
Leavitt stands behind the White House press room podium, although “stands” is a generous word. When she presents propaganda as policy and spews lies faster than lightning, it becomes clear she does not have a leg to stand on.
Bondi, meanwhile, sat before the House Judiciary Committee this week, though “sat” feels equally generous. She used her chair less as a place of testimony, more as a launching pad for finger-wagging fury and indignant deflection, some of it wildly bizarre.
Leavitt and Bondi are sisters from another mister, metaphorical twin pillars of Trump’s over-the-top White House ballroom, built on exaggeration, fabrication, deflection, indignation, and appalling sanctimony.
And all in the service of their daddy, Dictator Donald.
They adore, defend, and tout Trump as the “greatest president in history” and the “hardest working man in politics,” with a slavish devotion that would make even Kristi Noem blush.
Nowhere is their synchronization more obvious than in their handling of the Epstein files.
Bondi once declared that an Epstein “client list” was “sitting right now on my desk to review.”
Then she shifted. By mid-2025, the “client list” no longer existed. According to Bondi, she had been referring to the “entirety of the paperwork.”
Right on cue, Leavitt stepped to the podium and insisted there was no inconsistency, explaining that Bondi had never referred to a specific list.
When questions persist, they pivot. This week, pressed about Epstein, Leavitt had to abruptly shut down a press briefing and tell reporters to “move on.”
The following day, Bondi appeared before Congress. Pivoting from Epstein questions to an enthusiastic recital of stock market highs, she declared that the Dow was over 50,000 and Americans’ retirement savings were booming, and that was what everyone should be talking about.
She was clearly following Leavitt’s advice.
The two of them go from uncomfortable scrutiny to glowing economic tribute, from difficult files to financial bragging points. If you question the inconsistencies, you are not seeking truth — you are accused of deflecting from Trump’s greatness. How dare anyone question Dear Leader?
Bondi calls Trump “the greatest president in history.” Leavitt routinely describes his actions as “historic,” and has said Trump was left to “clean up” a “disaster” caused by Joe Biden, a “drunken sailor.” Leavitt and Trump cast Biden as their foil. In Wednesday’s hearing, Bondi’s foil was Merrick Garland, her predecessor as attorney general.
The pattern continues with their notorious binders. Bondi’s “burn book,” organized by names of Democratic lawmakers, filled with prewritten slams and social media screenshots, even documented who viewed what when examining the Epstein files.
Burn is right. That thing should be tossed in a bonfire.
That was her prep for the hearing. She did not arrive to testify. She came for disingenuous combat.
Leavitt performs a parallel routine. Her briefing binder often appears less a repository of relevant information, more a prop for prepackaged attacks. When reporters press on scandals, she pivots to crime statistics in Democratic districts or launches searing and stupid scoldings.
Leavitt has dismissed reporters as “left-wing hacks” and continuously blasts what she calls “disingenuous” questions.
In Leavitt and Bondi’s framework, scrutiny is not democratic oversight — it is disrespect. Even treason.
Neither woman simply answers questions. Both instinctively punch back. Bondi snapped during her hearing when Rep. Ted Lieu (D-CA) accused her of lying under oath.
“Don’t you ever accuse me of lying,” she retorted.
A lie wrapped in a lie, if you will.
Hovering above all of this, the crucifix necklace. Both women wear prominent crosses. Bondi has said hers reflects a “strong Christian” upbringing and a faith that gets her through each day.
That does not ring true. If her faith is so central, why not apologize to the Epstein victims?
Leavitt has used nearly identical language about her own silver cross. Faith is personal, but when it becomes a cover for disreputable behavior, it turns sanctimonious.
That contradiction gnaws at many Americans. How does the image of humility and truth coexist with spin, deflection, hostility, and lie after lie toward those asking legitimate questions?
Bondi’s hearing underscored something else. She does not merely defend the administration, she embodies its combative ethos. When challenged, she does not debate. She raises the volume of indignation and projects offense, as though questioning were itself an insult.
Leavitt operates the same way. Instead of measured responses, she delivers confrontation. The real commonality between these two women is that neither appears to be speaking primarily to the American public, in search of honesty.
The irony is difficult to ignore. The roles of press secretary and attorney general traditionally demand fidelity to facts and commitment to institutional credibility. Instead, what we are witnessing looks more like fealty to a single dithering dictator.
Finally, there is the aesthetic symmetry. Both women project a lacquered, cable-news-ready polish, complete with calibrated outrage, camera-trained composure, and — getting a bit catty here — dyed blonde hair. They are in the vein of talent and looks Roger Ailes obsessed over at Fox News, a model Trump replicates in casting his cabinet.
Leavitt and Bondi do not simply mouth Trump’s words. They personify them. They are curated to project crass certainty and dimwitted dazzle even when facts falter. They may stand at different podiums but their speech, mannerisms, deceit, and lack of decorum are exactly the same.
