MAGA Felon, 75, Plotting Political Comeback?

Chris Collins, the disgraced former congressman from New York who once traded stocks on the White House lawn, says he’s plotting a return to politics. His reason? Not policy. Not service. Not even Trump. Collins admits he just wants invitations to fundraisers and galas again.

“I did not leave on my terms, and my reputation was trashed,” Collins, now 75, told a conservative podcast. “Right now it’s kind of lonely.”

Collins’ fall was swift and humiliating. In 2019, the Republican resigned from Congress after pleading guilty to insider trading and lying to federal investigators. He had tipped off his son about a failed drug trial, sparing his family nearly $800,000 in losses.

He was sentenced to 26 months in federal prison. But after serving barely ten weeks, Collins was rescued by Donald Trump, who granted him a full pardon in December 2020—one of dozens of controversial pardons for political allies.

The New York lawmaker had been the very first member of Congress to endorse Trump back in 2016.

“He pardoned me on December 22 after ten weeks of hell,” Collins said in a radio interview earlier this year. “I’d like to go back and be his sidekick if you will.”

After relocating to Marco Island, Florida, Collins says he sees an opening. When Florida Rep. Byron Donalds announced his run for governor, Collins started floating the idea of running for Donalds’ House seat.

“If I then retire as the congressman for Florida 19 in Marco Island and Naples, I think I would be welcomed then to serve on some of the boards, the hospital boards, and being invited to the fundraisers and galas,” he said. “And that would be a great retirement.”

Collins added bluntly: “I’m not invited to any of those things because all I am is, you know, the former congressman who resigned in disgrace, convicted felon.”

Collins has no illusions about why he might be welcomed back into politics: his unwavering loyalty to the president who bailed him out. He predicted that Trump and other MAGA figures would embrace him “with open arms.”

Critics see Collins’ musings as another example of how Trump’s pardon power enabled corruption. “This is what happens when accountability gets erased,” said one Democratic strategist. “A convicted felon thinks public office is his ticket to cocktail parties.”

But Collins isn’t pitching ideas for health care, climate, or jobs. He’s pitching himself as a lonely man in need of high-society company.

For Democrats, his words serve as a stark reminder of Trump’s America in 2025—where being a loyal felon can still be a political résumé.